When I was little, my friends and I all dreamt of what our lives would be like as we played with our Barbies. One declared she was going to marry a doctor, another a lawyer and me?! Well, I drew a lot of strange looks from my friends as I declared I would live in a house with a red door.
To me having a red door meant I was more than just the standard white or brown door. It meant there was something fun and whimsical about the person residing behind that door. I've always had an independent streak in me and a love of being different, mind body and soul. And now I've found my way.
As a family we've made our way back into something resembling a life. My children....are happy. My husband, who I discovered owns more than 40 pairs of shoes in this move, is content. I, though waiting for my impending surgery on my foot, can finally open my eyes and feel the sun on my face....even though I discovered today the previous tenants forgot one of their weaves behind one of the drawers in my new bathroom....let's just say rubber gloves were in order.
So my friends, you now know why I've changed my identity to Red Door Girl when I sign into your comments. It reminds me of the vision I lost through this trial.