But instead I spoke about my sons who were visiting my sister. I put away my flirty tricks and let me talk about my boys. Something about this quiet hard working mechanic seemed to allow it.
He was not kinder, smarter, or richer than other men. He was there, and he was good, and I was ready to be found.
Talking about my boys drew me out of hiding. My boys had me dancing and showing off
And that's when the mechanic found me. He found the beautiful mom, the creative soul, the loving sister, the delighted daughter, the tentative friend, the dancing queen, the flirty girl and more.
He didn't look at the container I was hiding in, my body and face and hair, not at first anyway. He looked at me.
And I was found.
Had my sons not needed me I may have stayed too deeply lost for him to see. Had I not needed to find me for my sons, I may have wanted to stay lost.
But my sons found me.
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