As my mom always says, “You never know when you’ll turn a corner.”
I was traveling home from Northern California – by car! (more on that soon) – and decided to stop in Santa Barbara for some food and frolicking on the beach and downtown. There were about five exits, and I don’t know diddly about Santa Barbara, but I decided that Mission Street sounded promising. So off I exited.
I ended up hitting a residential neighborhood. When I turned a corner, I saw some young funky types with a yard sale, so I stopped to ask for guidance on where to find a hip spot to relax. We got to talking, and as it turned out, one of the four people was an alum from my small East Coast college.
“That’s so random!” we exclaimed in unison. Not only did we study at the same school and say the same things at the same time, it turned out, but both of us live with chronic pain and have had similarly hellacious experiences with dumb, arrogant doctors.
“OMG my new best friend!” I squeeled, hugging Tara. She decided to ditch the yard sale and go to dinner with me. So off I went in my little red Honda, following her in, that’s right, her little red Honda.
Over dinner, we told our respective stories. It was so validating for me to hear what she had to share, and vice versa. Just more food for fodder, more of a sense of “hell yeah I’m going to speak up about what I’ve been through.” I swear it’s the feminist movement all over again.
Tara has agreed to be a guest blogger on this site. Stay tuned for her post!