The Way I See It

  My Family Reflection I see them through the window—families leaning into each other, laughing over plates of toast and eggs, the easy rhythm of people who didn't have to negotiate their way here. And I'm standing at the counter, ordering something to go. Just me. I could have had that scene. But I know exactly why I don't. I couldn't get my family out of bed this morning. Not because they don't love me, but because I refuse to turn our home into a boot camp. I won't bark orders. I won't trade their sleepy peace for my need for company. That's not who I want to be. So this is my choice. Fully, painfully mine. And I have to live with it—not as a punishment, but as a consequence of something I actually believe in. I'd rather have a family that joins me because they want to, not because I made them. I'd rather sit alone with my takeout than sit across from reluctant faces. But I won't pretend it doesn't pinch. Watching that laughter from th...