Indifference is much more powerful than a middle finger

I keep thinking about how much can change in a year.

I’m in a good place.

A really good place.

And I’m not handing that over to anybody.

People can talk. They can recycle old stories, invent new ones, revisit old grudges and keep saying my name long after I stopped saying theirs.

That’s their choice.

Mine is different.

I choose my husband, my dogs, this crazy mountain life, the work we’ve built, the people who genuinely know us, and the peace I fought hard to get back.

And maybe the best part is knowing that my happiness no longer depends on anyone else understanding it, approving of it, or being comfortable with it.

I’m moving forward.

They can stay wherever they are.

I know where I’m headed.