I’ve always worn my heart on my sleeve, as far back as I can remember.

A little too loud, too honest.

A cognitive filter with holes that are a little too large, allowing stray thoughts to skip through

At inopportune times.

With skin that shows every emotion, blushing with inner turmoil so easily that I’m often asked if I’m having an allergic reaction.

I worry that I’ve offended, or hurt someone’s feelings at least once a day.

Blurting is a second language for me.

I feel a kinship with small children who tumble all over themselves, arms and legs and tongues faster than their brains.

And yet,

I know that I’m honest.

What people see if what they get.

Maybe I’m rough around the edges, but my heart is large and soft.

Life is too short to be someone you aren’t.

And while I’ll keep trying to be a softer, kinder version of myself, as I inch closer to another milestone,

I realize that for the first time in my life that I don’t feel the need to change a thing about my life.

And that’s a wonderful gift.