This week, I got some loving, well-intentioned, unsolicited advice. At the heart of a longer message was this: “Love more, j,” with the clear implication that I was,  perhaps, not being open to the very love for which I’ve spent almost a year advocating.

My first reaction was to feel blindsided. My second was to become angry and defensive. My third reaction brought me here, to this post, to deal directly with something I’ve been writing all around, because I think it’s important. And confusing. And while love, in my opinion, doesn’t lend itself to unequivocal language, I’m going to try, because this matters. Because I want to get it right.

I’ve talked a lot this year about “loving more.” That frequently means working through the hard stuff, tapping into your deepest reserves to find patience, understanding and acceptance… but not always.

Choosing love doesn’t always mean staying in. Sometimes it means having the courage to walk away while there still is love.

The truth is not everyone you meet will be good for you, and some people – even good people – will be bad for you. When you find yourself tied up in knots, constantly navigating another’s emotional landmines; when someone else’s pain and rage makes you afraid to tell your truth; when you feel as though staying in a relationship risks your sanity and your sense of self, “loving more” gets very complicated, and it may not mean staying put. It may mean letting go, before the hurt or deception or crazy-making kills everything that was ever good about the relationship.

And there’s something else. I’ve said many times that the most important love of all is self-love; all other love stems from that. I believe that when the choice is between loving yourself or losing yourself as you try desperately to please someone who is bad for you, you should always choose love. Always choose yourself.


I’ve made the wrong choice before. I’ve stayed in a bad relationship so long that I began to doubt my perception of the world. I looked in the mirror and felt unsure about who was looking back at me. I laid awake at night crying, wondering where I’d misstepped, how I’d managed to get so terribly, terribly lost.

In the end, I chose love. I did it by choosing to trust the people who were closest to me, the ones who were worried about me and who had, for years, done nothing but love and support me. I chose to believe them when they said that I wasn’t crazy or terrible, and I wasn’t obligated to stay in a relationship with someone who made me feel that I was both.

I chose me, though not soon enough to prevent the damage. I was exhausted, shattered.

Reassembly is not a straightforward, linear process, and even now, I know I don’t look like I used to. I don’t think or act or love like I used to. Every day, I feel the internal shifts of evolution, and I try to have faith that I’m becoming more and more the person – the magnificent, badass love warrior – I aspire to be.

Make no mistake about it, though. I did not stay in the relationship, but I did, absolutely, choose love.

It’s not easy to know which times are which, when you should stay and when you should go. It has been confusing (and transformative) to live a life in which I remain committed to – in fact, hellbent on – fearless love. It is beautiful and astonishing in ways I never dreamed of when I started. What it isn’t, and what it never will be, is simple. But then, the best things rarely are.


  1. hippiechick on November 18, 2011 at 6:07 pm

    This. This. THIS.

    Make no mistake about it, though. I did not stay in the relationship, but I did, absolutely, choose love.


    • j on November 18, 2011 at 7:54 pm

      THIS response. <3

  2. Lance on November 18, 2011 at 6:26 pm

    I just wrote about this post before last – called Sick of Myself. My big regret in life is not saying NO, and being myself earlier. You can be nice, kind, sweet, giving, caring, charitable, well mannered, well meaning, and open hearted without being a doormat. I didnt understand this until 3 or 4 years ago.

    I think that what I like about you the most, j. If we lived next door to each other, you’d be that pillar of awesome I would strive to emulate. You are so comfortable in your skin. It;s admirable.

    • j on November 18, 2011 at 7:56 pm

      Lance, I love that last paragraph. Thank you. Whatever comfort I feel in my skin is hard won. I’m so grateful for my fellow (love) travelers.

  3. Helga on November 18, 2011 at 6:27 pm

    Yes, you said it. Wrong choice, but I feel like I can make better choices now that I’m allowing myself to love ME. You have a fantastic way of verbalizing things I didn’t even know I was thinking.

    • j on November 18, 2011 at 10:48 pm

      Thank you. I’ll happily verbalize for you. You are extremely loveable. 😉

  4. laura hardin on November 18, 2011 at 6:30 pm

    I love you!!!

    • j on November 18, 2011 at 10:48 pm

      Awww! <3

  5. NM (@echo90803) on November 18, 2011 at 7:04 pm

    Judy – powerful, powerful post! And I believe you are so very right. I’ve learned this the hard way as well, earlier in bad relationships, and currently in a situation where I’ve lost my compass and soul in a bad work relationship. I am learning to consistently choose self-love, not in a selfish sense, but with the awareness that I can only aspire to baddass, fearless love if I’m willing to fearlessly love myself simply because I deserve it; it is my birthright. It’s not conditional on anyone else’s conditions or beliefs about whether or not I’m lovable. I love me too much to willingly stay victim to a toxic work environment. I’m hoping to physically move on, but I’ve already started learning how to emotionally move on, and it’s been powerful.

    I’m especially delighted that I checked here base on an intuition that there might be something new though you’ve not been posting on Fridays. What a lovely surprise, you lovely thang, you! xoxo

    • j on November 18, 2011 at 10:54 pm

      These bad, even toxic relationships, are definitely not limited to lovers.

      This is perfect: “I am learning to consistently choose self-love, not in a selfish sense, but with the awareness that I can only aspire to baddass, fearless love if I’m willing to fearlessly love myself simply because I deserve it; it is my birthright.”

      I’m glad you checked in. I didn’t mean to post this when I did. I’m not sure what I hit, but it emailed my subscribers. I’m choosing to interpret that as universe intervention rather than user error. 😉

  6. Michael on November 18, 2011 at 7:16 pm

    Yes, you are – profoundly – badass. Your loving badassery is indomitable and inspiring. And you get hugs for it, even if they’re just mental hugs.

    • j on November 18, 2011 at 10:55 pm

      Thanks, M. Mental/virtual hugs from you are the next best thing.

  7. prudencemacleod on November 18, 2011 at 7:56 pm

    You are quite right J. You have to love yourself first, elsewise you are incapable of loving another. And then there’s them. Ya gotta love ’em all, girl, even if you dare not be in the same town with ’em. “paraphrasing a friend of mine) Sometimes the best way to love’em is to leave ’em. Stay badass, stay loving, stay Judy above all else.


    • j on November 18, 2011 at 10:56 pm

      “Sometimes the best way to love’em is to leave ‘em.”

      Indeed. Thank you, Pru! xo

  8. terrepruitt on November 18, 2011 at 8:20 pm

    Sometimes it is so hard to know. Am I giving up? Am I giving in? Am I losing too much of myself? Is this compromise? Arrggh. It is great when you have people that love you that you trust and that you will let help you see. I don’t believe love is blind, I believe love sees and it accepts. So when someone sees they are being hurt, or doing all the giving, or just not feeling right, then it is a choice of love to leave.

    This is beautiful.

    It is hard letting go even when we know it is the right thing to do. (“The truth is not everyone you meet will be good for you, and some people – even good people – will be bad for you.”)

    • j on November 18, 2011 at 10:57 pm

      Yes, it is always easier to see clearly in hindsight. It’s that emotional forest for the trees thing. Thank you, Terre.

  9. tree peters on November 18, 2011 at 9:34 pm

    I really appreciate your thoughts here. I totally agree that everything healthy must start with self-love and that sometimes walking away is the loving choice. Staying in things past their expiration date hurts everyone, even the other person who might believe they want it at all costs.
    Also, I love your description of yourself as, “the magnificent, badass love warrior”.

  10. j on November 18, 2011 at 10:59 pm

    Thank you. It’s weird how often choosing love (whether staying in or walking away) requires one to be a badass. Sometimes love is sweet, but there are times when it just seems like one harrowing decision after another. (And yet… there’s nothing more worth having, right?)

  11. Meg Sweeney on November 19, 2011 at 4:39 am

    Wow – things are a comin’ down. I may be the first to say this but, I need names, dates, specifics to fill in the lines. I know I am being a nosey neighbor, but here I am representing us. What has gone so adrift? Pray, tell.

    • j on November 19, 2011 at 9:16 am

      Are you being protective of me? If so, that’s so sweet.

      I’m actually glad for the unsolicited advice, not because it was right or appropriate, but because I realized that I haven’t getting been down into this subject the way I want – need – to. Love is complicated. If we’re going to have a conversation about it, let’s REALLY have a conversation. This is the beginning.

      (Thank you!)

  12. Michele @ Within Reach on November 19, 2011 at 6:45 am

    Your efforts to get this one right paid off. It’s never easy to let go of toxic people and things… especially when they’re not toxic for others… sometimes, there’s just something about the spontaneous combustion or low-level festering that goes on between two otherwise lovely people… people with wonderful traits of honesty, integrity, kindness, and compassion. Sometimes, it just doesn’t work. And I so agree that choosing ourselves is critical. Well said.

    • j on November 19, 2011 at 9:22 am

      You’re making such a good point here, one I only touched on, but it deserves more words, so thank you. It is much more confusing to be in a relationship with someone who seems not to be toxic to others, even as (s)he is tearing you down, piece by piece, leaving you in that place where you’re no longer sure of yourself, no longer sure even of the things you’ve always been most confident in.

      We are complicated beings for sure. It makes perfect sense that we won’t all fit together nicely, and that sometimes good people are just bad together. There should be no shame in that.

  13. Jerry Attricks on November 19, 2011 at 6:48 am

    I love you, man. I’m not sure if I have a choice with this…

    • j on November 19, 2011 at 9:23 am

      I’m glad you’re so helpless. <3

  14. dan on November 19, 2011 at 7:32 am

    No one should be *told* to love more. They should be invited into love, shown into love & then love should wait

    • j on November 19, 2011 at 9:31 am

      I think there are so many people who need to breathe these words in. I’ve said before that love shouldn’t be a series of auditions. It’s not a test that needs to be passed. I think love makes us crazy sometimes, not in a good way, but in a desperate yearning way. And so we stay when we shouldn’t, demand things that should be invited or earned, tell ourselves that our loneliness isn’t our fault…

      Oh, Dan. These are the hard conversations about love we all need to be having.

  15. Patricia MacDonald on November 19, 2011 at 7:55 am

    J, one thing I love about you is your ability to speak outwardly your innermost intuitions and thoughts… that’s a rare gift!

    Reading this blog I have wondered how deep you could go, how far you had grown in yourself in your life for various reasons. You are young yet so it was very much a relief and I smiled as I read this post – it was a joy to be able to see so clearly a deeper part of you.

    In my past I’ve had to let two children go for a number of years and many years later it was a man. Obviously it was for different reasons and I love them all very deeply. True love doesn’t ever die. I occasionally think of the man and he me (we’re in touch a few times a year) and I will, less often, wonder what might have been. Usually at those times my cynicism kicks in LOL and I let those thoughts go. I always know without question I’ve done the right thing.

    You are writing / musing on a truer aspect of the core of love then you have for a bit, and I’m not going to be able to speak about it here, I’m no where near as good at expressing my deeper truths as you are dear J. Let’s just say you are a woman I would connect with and love even if we only met for a short time in a grocery store. <3

    • j on November 19, 2011 at 9:39 am

      You have no idea how very, very important this comment is to me. As I’ve been building the site for A Human Thing (which will be dedicated to the conversations I truly, deeply want to have about love in all its gritty, painful, gorgeous, hopeful incarnations), I’ve worried (far too much) about who I might lose in the translation.

      This year has been so transformative. I’ve never been more naked, more open, more awed (and sometimes hurt) by the world. But I’ve been feeling the pull lately to go much deeper in my writing on the subject of love, beyond the hugs and the sweet gestures and the mindful kindness (which are all important), to the real, complicated, hard-to-articulate, harder-to-answer questions. Your comment makes me know there will be people who want to go there with me.

      Thank you for urging me on.

  16. Marie Raymond on November 19, 2011 at 9:44 am

    I fell like you crawled into the recesses of my heart and wrote down my inner turmoil of the last year. I, too, chose love. And I am happy for it. The journey has been difficult but realizing that the love I have for myself and my family can pull me through any difficult situation.

    Thank you.

    • j on November 20, 2011 at 10:17 am

      “The journey has been difficult…” I was surprised by just how difficult the journey was (is), how spectacularly nonlinear and full of one step forward, two steps backs it’s been. But, like you, I’ve found myself getting stronger and stronger the more I focus on the love I have for myself and the examples of healthy, expansive love I’m treated to every day.

  17. Brett Bee on November 19, 2011 at 10:40 am

    This is beautiful, Judy. What a wonderful introduction to you, your writing and your truth. Thank you.

    • j on November 20, 2011 at 10:18 am

      Thank you, Brett. Looking forward to reading about you, too.

  18. Robyn Elfie on November 19, 2011 at 10:50 am

    I will go with you, J. I’ve been there with you for the last year. Daring to grow away from a sad, sick person that I dearly love and always will, but who is just horrible for me and to me. I choose love. The deepest, clearest, most limpid, see-right-to-the-bottom kind of love. I bought me a house to live in by my kindly loving best self. Come visit!

    • j on November 20, 2011 at 10:20 am

      “I will go with you, j.” <— Those are amazingly powerful words! Thank you, Robyn. I love, love, love this: "The deepest, clearest, most limpid, see-right-to-the-bottom kind of love. I bought me a house to live in by my kindly loving best self."

      HUGE smile.

  19. Pam on November 19, 2011 at 11:10 am

    Absolutely–sometimes the best course is to step away. Sometimes people can’t allow you to change and grow; sometimes people are too unhappy to want to see you happy; sometimes people are simply not your friends.

    I have a young friend who is trying to navigate the dating world. The message I try to give her is to stop and listen to herself to figure out what she wants. (She gets very caught up in wanting to be liked, even by people to whom she feels no connection.) I try to emphasize that the decision about whether to kiss the new guy is best based on the answer to the question, “do I want to kiss him?” rather than “what will he think if I don’t kiss him?”

    I think the decisions about when to leave someone behind, or when to kiss someone new, or when to leave a basket of flowers at someone’s door, are founded on trusting yourself, listening to your heart, and bravely loving yourself enough to follow where it leads. <3

    • j on November 20, 2011 at 10:26 am

      “I think the decisions about when to leave someone behind, or when to kiss someone new, or when to leave a basket of flowers at someone’s door, are founded on trusting yourself, listening to your heart, and bravely loving yourself enough to follow where it leads.”

      I agree. And so the goal, when you’ve been shattered and your internal sensors are all out of whack, is to get back to that place where you can trust your own sense of things and bravely follow your (mended) your heart.

  20. Cynthia Patton on November 19, 2011 at 3:31 pm

    I wondered when you would get around to this topic, and not just because it’s one that has consumed me for the past few years. It’s always difficult to leave a relationship, toxic or otherwise, but I do know with certainty that it gets easier the more you love yourself.

    If you want to go deeper, then by all means, go deeper. Don’t worry about who might not follow. It’s your path. Follow it bravely.

    • j on November 20, 2011 at 10:33 am

      It’s true that the leaving (or the having left) gets easier the more you love yourself, and what I’ve learned is how many ways we “betray” that love without even realizing it, usually by putting ourselves last all the time.

      I remember talking to someone who loves me well about someone who was tying me up in knots. I was justifying my remaining in the relationship that was so clearly bad for me and my friend said, “I totally understand how you think the other person will feel if you walk away… how would you feel?” That’s when I realized that how I’d feel hadn’t been part of my equation. Which, of course, is crazy and was the beginning of the hike-back-to-healthy.

  21. Julia Fehrenbacher on November 19, 2011 at 9:54 pm

    “Always choose yourself.”

    Yes! Yes, yes! Always.

    I’m so with you here, Judy. I love that you took the time to get it right. Your way with words, you commitment to what matters, helps us all see more clearly.

    With so much love,


    • j on November 20, 2011 at 10:36 am

      Truthfully, I needed to write this post for me. I needed to remind myself of truths I’ve learned the hard way. I didn’t realize how fortifying it would be to have you guys respond. Thank you!

  22. Giulietta Nardone on November 20, 2011 at 4:31 pm

    Hi J,

    All love, even self-love is hard because it’s complicated. love requires a lot of honesty and most of us are not taught to be honest, especially with ourselves. I love myself more than at any other time in my life and it shows in my relationships with others. Do I still do unloving things? Of course, it’s part of the human condition. But I try to *still” love myself when I act human.

    Thanks! j.

    • j on November 20, 2011 at 5:27 pm

      I think self-love, for some, is the hardest love of all, actually. And I agree with you. Love requires a lot of honesty, with ourselves and with others. And maybe, too, a little more self-awareness than is comfortable.

      Thank you back!

  23. Clare Flourish on November 20, 2011 at 5:19 pm

    Oh dear. My own “desperate yearnings” spoken, I was offered friendship, not the relationship I craved. And I have chosen that friendship rather than nothing, and oh, it hurts. God, I hate reality sometimes, and it is still better than fantasy. So no, I do not say to this friend, “You should love more” but I would if I thought it would work what I want. And then the “sad, sick person”- I do not know whether I can do her any good, and I do not know whether I can remain positive when I am with her, however much I admire how she has lived so well. She is only so hurt, now, because her difficulties are truly overwhelming.

    Thank you for your post. From my point of view, choosing deliberately not to rail “You should love more” however much the temptation, Rupert Brooke puts it very well:
    I think if you had loved me when I wanted;
    If I’d looked up one day, and seen your eyes,
    And found my wild sick blasphemous prayer granted,
    And your brown face, that’s full of pity and wise,
    Flushed suddenly; the white godhead in new fear
    Intolerably so struggling, and so shamed;
    Most holy and far, if you’d come all too near,
    If earth had seen Earth’s lordliest wild limbs tamed,
    Shaken, and trapped, and shivering, for MY touch —
    Myself should I have slain? or that foul you?
    But this the strange gods, who had given so much,
    To have seen and known you, this they might not do.
    One last shame’s spared me, one black word’s unspoken;
    And I’m alone; and you have not awoken.

  24. j on November 20, 2011 at 5:32 pm

    Your reply breaks my heart. I know you don’t need me to agree with you, but I do. Reality, however painful and unpolished, is better than fantasy, and you are admirable for trying to stay in the friendship when what you long for is something more. I guess I want to tell you to keep a close watch on yourself, be strong and be brave… even if being brave means walking away in order to preserve your sense of self or to keep from being forever stuck in a place that only yearns.

    Sending you big love.

    • Clare Flourish on November 21, 2011 at 5:33 am

      Thank you. I posted around midnight (here) on the evening of That Conversation, and think that the “friendship” agreed is a way of tidying away the matter, healthily minimising resentment and cleansing the wound for healing. I remain open, seek non-attachment, and if I form a desire will consider seriously whether it is achievable, respecting the other as a person and not as a fantasy. I love KjM’s “loving the in-between, the becoming state”.

  25. KjM on November 20, 2011 at 7:05 pm

    “…even now, I know I don’t look like I used to…”

    You say that like it’s a bad thing… 🙂

    Actually, I don’t believe you do – but seemingly couldn’t resist. That said, you aren’t as you used to be, and this is the goal. Outrageous fortune does rain slings and arrows upon us, as well as staggeringly beautiful intrusions into our lives such as badassery as exemplified by you.

    But, we change. The process of disassembly and reassembly is…challenging. We seem to come without instructions. (Where’s a good complaints department when you need one?)

    And yes, during the reassembly phase, we may feel -different- and interpret that as -less- than before. It may even be. We may well have shed something, even something that made us the powerful individual we were.

    And we are on the path to a new, and powerful, individual.

    And loving oneself applies to the in-between, the becoming state, no less than the final form. And one good reason why?

    There is no final form – just a growing, learning, loving person.

    What’s not to love?

    • j on November 20, 2011 at 7:30 pm

      You are beautiful, Kevin. In case no one has told you today.

      I agree, and in so many, many ways, I’m happy to be different and I do feel that I’ve grown… which I suppose in our analogy would mean that I’m more, not less. But it makes me sad that I don’t trust as easily or wholly now… that I am, generally, more reticent than I was before. I shed something childlike and a little bit wonderful, so even as I feel the exhilaration of personal evolution, I feel wistful about what I lost in the process.

      I LOVE this: “There is no final form – just a growing, learning, loving person.” I find that enormously reassuring, actually. Thank you!

  26. Rita on November 20, 2011 at 9:02 pm

    I can’t say what I want to say because there are no words.

    Simply. Thank you. xo

    • j on November 21, 2011 at 9:19 am

      This was just right. I’m feeling the love. Thank you, Rita. xo

  27. (whoa) Mary on November 20, 2011 at 11:33 pm

    I think the love that you have in your immediate family makes it easier for you to explore love in a deeper way, delving into the messy & uncomfortable. Kudos to your family for that. They ground you and can pull your back into a loving embrace if it gets difficult. Not everyone has that. You are fortunate.

    Not everyone has the self-love either and that alone makes it harder to leave a bad relationship. I have personally heard friends say, “what if no one else will love me. What if this is it?”

    I feel I have to be honest here, I struggle with self-love and in many ways I am self-destructive in my behavior. I am so bad that I question the motives of anyone who gets close to me. I tend to find a way to screw up any and all relationships.

    • j on November 21, 2011 at 9:41 am

      It was complicated and more tangled than I can explain in the relationship (two, actually) that I’ve described in this post… my usual sources of love and understanding were… strained (which isn’t the right word but it is the one I’m going to use). But, in general, yes, you’re right, I am hugely fortunate to be surrounded by people who want the best for me.

      And of course, you are absolutely right about self-love. I think self-love (all love, really, but maybe self-love especially) is a practice. It isn’t something you have or don’t have, it’s like yoga or meditation, a thing you learn, sometimes act by precious act. When I first started trying to meditate – about three years ago – I sucked. Big time. I couldn’t hold still and, in fact, didn’t see the value in it. Why sit still and look inward when I could move and dance and engage the world, learn about love and how to connect more meaningfully?

      Over time, I began to understand there was value in getting still, and in fact as I faced burn out and exhaustion again and again, I realized getting still might be absolutely vital to me. But realizing that and doing it were different things. Light years apart. After nearly three years of trying on and off to embrace the actual act of meditation, I had my first successful session (five minutes and I was so fucking happy you’d have thought that I’d cured something). Since then my success rate is about 50-50 and I’ve never been able to go longer than 15 or 20 minutes (unless I did a walking sort of meditation, I’m better at those).

      Here’s my point. Learning to value yourself, to show yourself the same kindness you show to others (and though you say you sabotage relationships, and I believe you, I also know that you are generous and more than ready to go above and beyond for people you believe in and care for) is, especially for some of us, a process, not a faucet we simply turn on. It’s a process of learning and practicing and trying to be patient with the in between (as KjM so wonderfully put it). It may even be a matter of giving yourself what you don’t believe you deserve, doing it anyway until, over time, you start sometimes feeling worthy of it.

      I don’t want to oversimplify. I know love is complicated and no matter what anyone says, self-love is the most complicated love of all because we know too much; the ugly isn’t hidden from ourselves and we all have it – our dark side that we’re sure no one could stomach if they could see it. I don’t think self-love is something you can simply decide to have, but you can decide to practice it, in little ways, every day, until one day you actually feel (for five minutes, even) the love you’ve been demonstrating to yourself, act by tiny act.

  28. Estrella Azul on November 21, 2011 at 6:26 am

    “Choosing love doesn’t always mean staying in. Sometimes it means having the courage to walk away while there still is love.”
    One of the hardest things I chose at the end of last year, choosing love while walking away (while there still was love). That love is still there, but in a different form now.
    And I am so happy I chose love and walked away when I did instead of staying in, or it could have turned into regret.

    You choose well, j. Never doubt that!

    • j on November 21, 2011 at 9:41 am

      Thanks, Estrella. I’m learning. xo

  29. KjM on November 21, 2011 at 10:26 am

    Thank you for your reply, J – including the fixing of my typo. Gracious, a good word for you.

    As to the “You are beautiful, Kevin…” well, there are differing views on that 🙂 though, that said, there have been, and yet are, some in my life who might not disagree. For which I am truly grateful.

    Coming to “…I feel wistful about what I lost…” – I get it. Oh, do I ever. Because it’s true, in shedding parts of us as we grow, change, we may shed some parts we value, some parts that have real value. It’s an imperfect process – rarely unidirectional (something to call to mind when we feel we are going perpetually backwards – it’s no more unidirectional in that direction than any other).

    So, we’re back to loving ourselves – even when we screw up the “becoming, growing, perfecting myself” activity that we’re all engaged in.

    Loving imperfection – it’s actually easier than loving perfection, chiefly because we get *so* much more practice at it. 🙂

    • j on November 21, 2011 at 9:38 pm

      “It’s an imperfect process – rarely unidirectional (something to call to mind when we feel we are going perpetually backwards – it’s no more unidirectional in that direction than any other).”

      THAT is something I need to post above my desk (and on the mirror, and on my nightstand, and on the refrigerator, and on my dashboard).

      Yes, I give myself all kinds of opportunities to love imperfection! xo

  30. Becky on June 6, 2012 at 12:44 pm

    My point… a constant reminder.

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