From the very first day I walked in the door of the house I was greeted with a smile and a laugh.
It was a natural transition from a child who couldn’t speak, who didn’t understand why people were angry or disappointed or sad.
As a result, I quickly became one of those people.
My parents took the same approach to my life as they did my siblings, even though I was a toddler and had no idea why people would be upset.
They would sit me down and say: “Look at you, you’ve got a smile, and you’ve been through so much and you still have that energy.
I’m glad you’re here.
You’re not alone.
Everyone is feeling that way, and I know that feeling.”
My parents had a similar attitude towards me.
As they told me, the only thing that matters is that you succeed.
My parents never gave up hope that I would.
They were never disappointed, never disappointed in their expectations for me.
They gave me everything I needed to succeed.
In my early twenties, I was living a life of uncertainty.
My job as a receptionist at a local restaurant required that I work extra hours to make ends meet, and my employer also required me to take on extra work.
I was on disability and had recently lost my job as an assistant to a prominent businesswoman.
In addition to my disability, I had trouble maintaining a good relationship with my husband, who was working part time at a hospital in a rural area of California.
He was struggling to make a living, and as a result we were struggling financially.
When the illness got worse, my husband’s job became less and less.
He had to work part time and took on extra caregiving duties while his wife took on more responsibilities at home.
During this time, I became increasingly concerned about the state of my finances and relationship with the family.
I also found myself thinking about my health and what I could do to help myself.
The thought of my family constantly being in debt kept me awake at night, and the thoughts of what could happen if I became ill made me anxious and nervous.
I started thinking about the possibility of my illness worsening the situation.
At one point, I began writing about what I was going through and the ways I was coping.
I didn’t feel comfortable sharing the news of my diagnosis and the way I was being treated, but I also wanted to let others know that there were people who cared about me, and that I had their support.
I did this in a way that was not only personal, but also that was very clear to them.
I wanted to give them hope, but at the same time, it also gave me an opportunity to tell my story and share what I knew about the struggles I was facing.
It was then that I began to question my own expectations.
When I began living in a different environment, I realized that I didn.
I began to notice the differences in the way my family and friends treated me and the people around me.
I began noticing how people treated me differently and how I felt different in their eyes.
Eventually, I would understand the differences and the differences were not due to me.
The changes were due to my expectations, which were very different from the expectations I had previously had of them.
As I began speaking out about my diagnosis, I started to get noticed by others.
One of the first things I noticed was that my social circles began to grow.
I noticed that people were more accepting of my experiences and their perspectives on my diagnosis.
I saw a change in the attitude of people who were used to hearing about my illness as a personal tragedy.
These changes were very positive, but they were also very bittersweet.
I realized there was a great deal of work to be done.
Once I was diagnosed with ALS, my hope began to wane.
I knew that my only hope was that the work I had been doing to be better would eventually translate into a job.
I couldn’t see the day when I would be able to do that.
I would have to work harder to get better and eventually earn a living wage.
I wasn’t going to be able go back to the day of being a receptionista, so I had to get more involved with my community.
I became more involved in local charities, and one of my biggest goals was to start an ALS-specific nonprofit, ALS Justice.
The goal was to create a national nonprofit that would provide assistance to those who were struggling to survive ALS.
This year, I decided that the next step in my journey was to move to California.
For the past few years, I have been involved in several local charities in order to help those in need.
These charities were a part of the community, and for the first time, they were able to give back to those in the community.
Living in California has been such a life-changing experience for me and