Had I really spent so many years feeling miserable because I was bigger than other girls, when there were people who’d grown up without their parents? Had I pitied myself because I’d failed at Weight Watchers, and because my high school BFF and I had fallen out, when there were people who’d found their own mother’s dead body on the floor? Had I fretted because I’d never been in love, and that I’d wasted two years on Wan Ron, when I had a mother and a father who loved me, who would have given me whatever help they could, who wanted nothing but my happiness?
First world problems. Gratitude
