“They say good things come in threes. I hope “they” are right because there are three of me.

There’s Me: the personal Me. The romantic who will drink a bottle of wine with you in the middle of the day and walk in the rain in Central Park holding your hand. The friend who will laugh at stupid jokes because it feels good to laugh. The Me who takes risks, jumps without thinking, takes a trip on a whim, who dreams big, and cries hard. There is silly Me who gets lost in a paper bag driving to the same place I’ve been before. And don’t forget rash Me who says things I don’t mean in the heat of the moment and who takes them back right away (OK, eventually), and then there’s forever-faithful, loyal Me who will forgive fast and often—over and over again.

Then there’s second Me, the maternal Me, the Me I grew into over time.

…

Me-three is an altogether different Me, one who I created after gradu-ating from college because I thought I was supposed to, because that’s what everyone did, because it worked better that way. … my third Me? Well, she was an epic mess.”