When I was a teenager, my mom called me a dreamer. She didn’t mean it as a compliment, but she wasn’t wrong. I've always been idealistic, my head regularly inhabiting the clouds. I’d sing along with John Lennon’s Imagine and revel in the fact that we were soul mates. You’re NOT the only one, John. We’re in this together! I took pride in that side of myself. But when my mom labeled me a dreamer, and I knew it wasn’t a compliment, it got my attention. Of course, my idiot teenage response was, "What does she know?" Eventually, I would relate to Mark Twain, who said, …
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