Some of my first memories include a stubborn desire not to be the victim. I needed to think through things to be a responsible person. And that meant there were a lot of things I needed to learn.
Then, it was only a second later my grandmother blurted out: “Awch, kids. Your Dad is DEAD.”
In the short run, my awkward and almost undetectable social skills combined with a strong internal moral compass did not make me the most popular kid. But taking control, in my mind, meant that I needed to also take control of my own inborn desires. Real friends could see that. I needed to make choices based on the best outcomes — not what feels good at the moment.