Sixteen years ago, the day after turning 30, I took the first huge risk of my life. I stood next to the front porch on a chilly afternoon and poured out my heart, knowing that in one sense I was destroying the person I had become and reclaiming the person I wanted to be at the same time. For the first time, life’s gray was erased – black pushed to one side, white to the other. In its place was a feeling I knew I’d never replicate, even though the grays of life would return. About this, however, nothing is gray.
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