The Poisoned Ink Well

Thursday, October 31, 2002

One of the most devastating things that has happened to me in recent memory has been the outright bald faced attacks on my reputation which I know to some is practically nonexistent, anyway. I spent 10 years struggling, working, scrubbing toilets, and wiping asses only to be told that I had never worked. I was called names and was sneered at by people claiming to represent me.

Growing up the hard way is still growing up. Years of being the sole support of a child and of attending school and professional conferences and having references and documentation as to my where about didn’t seem to matter.

I spent my time engaged in work, school, raising my son, or engaged in my favorite past time of constantly work shopping and going to readings and concerts, but that didn’t stop them from imagining something quite different. If you think you know someone at 17 then trust me by the time most of us, and I know not all of us, reach 35, we have gone through some growth processes.

If I spent my time well, while nine out of ten didn’t, then don’t fault me for it. If my loves were real, if my maternal instinct was real, if my time I spent nursing and at college was real, and if it makes you angry that a nothing like me, someone who should probably have given up, Oded, or been sent to prison decades ago to prove you right, then I want you to know that:

I did it to piss you off, I did it to prove you wrong, I did it because THE BEST REVENGE IS TO LIVE WELL and I will continue to improve, to further my education, and I will never, ever give up.