Isn’t it disappointing to disagree with people we love or admire?

Really, disappointing is the best word I can think of (it was Grandma’s word too). For me it somehow encloses both the bigness and smallness of the realization: adjusting to the sense of the bottom dropping out beneath me, and the simultaneous, honest, What’s the big deal?

Because I really shouldn’t have to explain everything, right? And yet I *want* to. I want to hear someone say, “You’re right, I agree with your choice.”

Isn’t that just about the most affirming thing we can hear?