“Could my favorite thing about myself be that I’m baller as fuck?”
As I read her posts, I could be reading things I wrote 20 years ago. She struggles with things I struggled with, and in some of the same ways. Her passion is a double-edged sword, forcing her to dance on its blade.
She has no specific target for her uncontainable outrage, and it blasts out in all directions, splashing everything it contacts, regardless of justification.
I recognize those feelings, the blurting, the railing against the unfairness of the world at large. Sadly, there is no advice I can offer her to make the journey more comfortable, but I’m glad she is on the path.