I can hear his voice now, strong, yet tender.
My dad has called me molly b. for as long as I can remember.
As a greeting on my voicemail, the salutation of a note, or heaven forbid, in a firm talking-to.
I've signed many a note to him by the epithet myself.
I have wanted this blog to be more of a reflection of who I really am for the longest time.
I'd roll phrases around and then roll them around some more and the words never felt right.
And then one day it hit me.
I knew exactly what I wanted this space to be.
This new blog name, molly b.?
It's me. Finally.
After all this time, I knew the answer all along.