Time machine

I read something earlier this morning, a story of a 'coming of age' experience, which initially had the old clichés about 'if I had my time over', 'if I knew then what I know now', and the like, springing to mind. But I quickly realised that I almost certainly wouldn't do it differently, even if I could cheat the laws of physics and find myself a time machine to take me back to being 13. Because the boy who sat in a cubicle in my school toilets literally shaking with fear at the consequences of anyone finding out he liked boys and not girls is still living in my head today, and that same scared boy has made more or less all of the decisions in my emotional life in the intervening forty-odd years. Fear and happiness are pretty much mutually exclusive.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B