When I was small I believed I was destined to be a very important person.  Like those who go to fortune tellers and are unsurprised to discover they were Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth in a former life, I was certain I would be someone whose presence danced across the international stage.

This disillusion lasted for an embarrassingly long period of time, well into my thirties in fact.  First I was going to be a great actress, then a world renowned writer, and finally, a Supreme Court Justice.  It wasn’t until I developed debilitating ovarian cysts and spent nearly a year and a half in ridiculous amounts of pain that my understanding of what my life was to be changed.

This year I am thankful for a quieter life.  I am thankful beyond measure to be free of the pain that rendered me a poor mother, partner, wife, and friend.  I am thankful to have moved on to the point where I can work a nearly full time job and participate in my children’s lives.

While I once dreamed of days spent imparting my wisdom to the masses or walking the red carpet with throngs of followers, now I am happy to read with my boyfriend in front of a fire and enjoy a nice glass of wine.  I am happy to stay home most nights, read to my children, snuggly my cat, and go to bed at a decent hour.

I find joy in walking places, now that I am once again able to meander for miles without needing to sit down and recover from a bout of excruciating pain.  I am happy to bicycle and do push ups, to dance and sing, to clean the house.

Having pain enter my life is not something I can be happy for.  I’ve tried, but even I am not that self-effacing.  Learning to build my life back into something fulfilling, enjoyable, and truly lovely is something I treasure with all my heart.

So thank you to all of you who helped me find my way back from the dark recesses of illness, the precipice of suicide, and the resulting wreckage of my former life.  You lent strength to someone who didn’t have her own and helped lead me to a happier, quieter, life.

Happy Thanksgiving.