Pamplemous, (wow that is hard to spell 🙂 ) please read this carefully and go to the end because it may not sound reassuring at first but I promise it gets there:

I had a feeling you were drunk-posting when I read this the other day- the comment about the wine might have given you away :). Drunkness and drinking are topics that bring up some tough feelings for me, because I grew up with an alcoholic parent. Reading the way your sentences were put together was even a little emotionally triggering for me. But here’s the thing. Watching my parent heal from this, and be humbled, and humiliated, and face her shame over and over again as she finally got treatment for her addiction, has made me a softer person. I used to hate her flaws because we all pretended things were perfect in my family, when we all knew they weren’t. A parent above all is someone we look up to as ‘perfect’ as a kid. She wasn’t- but it was that admission of imperfection that finally carried her into a new, healed, sober life.

Now when I see someone who admits their flaws, I feel warmth. Relaxation. Safety, because the people brave enough to admit their shortcomings are usually more sane and compassionate than those who live in denial. I know you didn’t ask for this big backstory, but I just want you to know, from a very real place in my heart, that you don’t have to be perfect to be here.