The week is nearly over though I’m convinced it just started.
It’s funny how much quicker time seems to go by as we get older. Our days are so packed to the brim with appointments and deadlines and all that other boring adult stuff that we don’t have the time to stop and take note of the tiny, wonderful moments in our lives.
One thing I’ve learned in my life is that most of us are looking for reassurance that we aren’t alone.
Whether it’s a personality trait you worry is odd, a penchant for the unusual, or difficult life circumstances, we just want someone to say “Me too!” or “I know just how you feel.”
This is something I learned as a teenager, when I chose Jane Austen and knitting over nights out with friends. I longed for someone who would sit next to me with some yarn and knitting needles, ready to talk about Emma Woodhouse or Elizabeth Bennet. Surely I wasn’t the only 14-year-old who preferred to spend her time this way.