Over the years of having this website, I’ve had many people suggest that my abusive childhood made me more compassionate and a kinder human being. Or, maybe it gave me a better sense of humor or made me more spiritual.
Or maybe it didn’t. No version of me wasn’t abused. If there had been a version of me that wasn’t abused, he could be more compassionate. He could be a complete narcissist. He could be funnier or kinder. He could be a selfish ass.
No one knows. That version of me is Schrodinger’s cat. It’s all the possibilities because the box can never be opened to see what’s inside.