by Melissa A. Fabello. Originally posted on Everyday Feminism.
I had an intervention once.
It wasn’t like the tearful ones that you see on TV, where a load of loved ones read notes from their pockets begging their person-who-might-have-a-problem to find themselves again.
No, it wasn’t like that at all.
But my mother did get me in a place where I couldn’t easily escape – her car – and, sweetly but sternly, expressed that she had something to say and that I wasn’t going to like it. She told me: “You can’t choose who you love. But you can choose who you’re with.”