but I'm as good once, as I ever was. I wish I could go back and talk to little 6 year old Debbie Adams. And then I'd love to talk to her every year of her life. I had a great childhood, which proves the theory that life is just kinda hard, no matter how you grow up. I can remember a friend of mind saying that she was in her twenties before she realized that not everybody liked her. What was not to like? She was kind, considerate, compassionate,pretty, and then WHAM! Her husband at the time acted like he just hated her. Boy, can I relate. You go from Cinderella to the wicked step sister in nano seconds. Happened to me for my 30th birthday. What a tumultuous affair that was. My ego could have schlepped under a snake's belly. It had to be my fault, right? I coulda lost weight, I coulda cleaned the house more, I coulda coulda coulda?? NO! It took me a while and lots of reading to realize it had nothing to do with me and EVERYTHING to do with HIM! I bounced around like a bebe in a boxcar, trying to make sense of it all and trying not to experience that again. I know what! I'll just not date, not interact with a guy, nada, nothing, finite! That kept those awful things from happening to me for a good long while. I got to grow up, be my true self, get my kids reared. For the first time in my life, I knew who I was, confident to express what I liked and didn't like. No need for validation from the outside. Is that what maturity is, self validation? I think so. You can't give what you don't have. Then ol Marty came along. He liked who I was for who I was. No changing needed to please him. Sure, we had to do some tweaking along the way, but I always have known that he loves me for ME. Don't gotta be a size 2, partying, drinking, dancing on the pole kinda girl. He likes "Creative Debbie", he's still amazed that I reared two pretty fabulous kids who are fantastic adults with no dad in the picture and NO child support. He doesn't care if I don't cook, clean, or whoop it up in the bedroom. He loves 6 Year old Debbie and all the years combined inside me. I Yam what I Yam, as Popeye says, and I'm loved.