But also, I realized … done. Not like I was ready to die, or change careers, or leave L.A. forever, but I realized at the end of this day of spectacular experiences by myself that I had a lot of days full of spectacular experiences by myself. The whole Lone Woman at the Bottom of the World thing was pretty checked off. Perhaps, finally, even played out. Just as I had proved to myself that I was a real writer, I had proved to myself that I could be happy and brave and tackle the planet by myself. So … I didn’t need to prove anything anymore. I could stop. I was ready to stop doing all of this
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