I refuse to choose between wonderful things. I have always despised the times I’ve been urged to do so. I know I can’t have everything I want all at the same time, and I know I can’t have it constantly.  But have them all I will.

This truth about me bothers me very little.

I am an incurable romantic, and a clear-eyed realist. I can revel in someone’s presence and their imperfections because I expect the same in return. I can enjoy all things soft and feminine and still kick ass and take names when my work requires it.

I am, when I choose to be, the life of the party and I crave complete solitude when I have too many hours peopled with…people. I frequently give more than I should, but I resent those who take without asking, or attempt to by manipulation.

I can only be close to those who are willing to speak the truth to me, and reject anyone using truth as a license for mean-ness or disrespect.  Yes, I know the difference.

Don’t expect me to apologize for adoring the beauty of the great outdoors, the miracles of nature while simultaneously expecting bug spray and a plug in for my flat iron. I intend to look fabulous and not feel itchy while I adore creation, thank you very much.

I will view Ireland, Paris and the Black Hills with equal awe.

If you offer me three choices of jewelry or shoes or meals cooked from scratch, I will covet them all equally and expect them all in good time. I am patient and persevering. A cup of coffee brought to me from a gracious heart is equally appreciated. Anyone listening to my occasional diatribes with amused affection is priceless.

I am intense and light-hearted, I dream huge and respect the bottom line, I laugh easily and search for great depths at the same time. I suppose I make no sense to those who love me. I don’t blame anyone for that, but I do appreciate finding those who know how to enjoy me.

There are so many sides of us to celebrate…the deep and ridiculous, emotional and logical, poetry and porn…how can we choose, and why should we?

Embrace the paradox.