Once again I am called on to step up to the mark. To be the strong one. To hold it all together.
For more years than I care to remember I've had to be the strong one, the one that coped and, right now, I would give anything to have someone say "It's OK, I've got your back on this one, I'll deal with it".
But that ain't going to happen. So big girls knickers are on and here we go again.
Sorry. My OCD won.
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(If you subscribe to my art substack, this letter is already waiting for
you in your mailbox, but I’m sharing it here too in case you don’t do
substack but...
