There is so much about me – that for so many years, I have been so often reminded – that is broken. I have a broken body, I have had a broken spirit, and have been called just about every name in the book, and a few that I was sure people invented just for me. I am autistic. That won’t go away, it is a forever. And even if I were strong enough and could channel enough energies from just trying to live life to lose weight and try my best to be “fit”, there are so many ways in which my body is broken that it seems it hardly would matter. For so long, those things were all I could define myself by. There was nothing in me that I could see beyond those glaring realities. But hidden deep below the broken body and the broken spirit was a heart, that loved… That loved with every bit as much fierceness as that which it took to push aside all the brokenness to find it. And that has been the goal of my life. To somehow prove to myself and the world that it is the heart that matters more. That the heart matters more than any brokenness that might surround it.