“Sometimes I fail and miss the mark and often times I’m afraid to let them see those pieces of me. Or embarrassed. Perhaps it’s complicated. Yet, those pieces of me are the parts I have to sit with when I’m alone. They are the questions I have to give answers to when my therapist tells me even Superman had to be Clark Kent at times. As I search within the walls of my heart and ideologies surrounding this need to protect the real parts of me from the innocent eyes and admiration of my boys, I worry, I guess, that they will see my flaws and instead of celebrating me as human they will be forced to realize that even I’m not perfect…”