I'm 70 and I realized last year that my adult children don't actually know me — they know the woman who raised them, packed their lunches, signed their permission slips, showed up for their games — but they don't know who I was before any of that, or who I've become since, and we are three people related to a version of me that hasn't fully existed in twenty years and nobody has thought to introduce us
Apr 21, 2026
Marlene Martin