It’s my life. I write the narrative. I do what’s I believe is best for myself. I own up to my actions — good or bad.

Twenty years ago? Uh, yeah…totally different story. My life wasn’t my own. I didn’t have control over it. I allowed others to dictate my story. I realized that I had to be the best woman for me, not live my life to please others around me. It was a long, bumpy road and it took me a while to come to that realization. But I did . . . and I’m a better woman for it. Sound familiar? Am I telling your story, too? 

That was then. This is now.

I define the woman that I am. Me.