I was sharing a bowl of leftovers with my husband while watching tv. One bowl, two spoons. There’s a piece of meat in the bowl and I keep eating around it, pushing it toward my husband. He’s eating around it too, but then he takes his spoon and breaks it into two pieces. I was willing to give it all to him but he made sure we both were good. I didn’t even think of splitting it because, sometimes, especially when you are a giver, you don’t even see or recognize you have needs or wants too. You just want to take care of everyone else.

There were lessons my mother taught me that I couldn’t appreciate until I was a woman. There were even more lessons that I couldn’t understand until I was a mother. There are lessons that are hitting me hard now that she isn’t here for me to discuss them with her…

I ate secrets. Binged with no purge. I ate them and smiled as my stomach cramped and my heart burned. I got scared and called Poison Control. They asked what I had eaten and I couldn’t tell them secrets so I told them the next closest thing: poison. They said…

When I was molested at 8 years old by my older brother, my mother fought tooth and nail to get him out of the house. She advocated for me with passion. She stood by me as my brother initially denied the claims and made me out to be a liar…

You loved me past peace to pieces. Shattered me, your heavy-handedness unceasing. You punish, persecute without reason. I bloom for you and wither in the same season. I dream of freedom, but can’t seem to leave him. I cry to leave him but can’t imagine freedom. I love so hard, I’ve loved to pieces. My heart is shattered, my soul charged with treason.

I wonder: What is it like to be carried? To be truly held? To be loved by choice And not by one compelled? Have you been cherished? Oh, do please tell! I’ve often been promised heaven Yet, still find my home in hell.

Anne Rice died today and I can’t help but think that this is one more piece of my mother gone from me. I remember reading Lasher over a decade ago and my mother and I discussing it and being mesmerized by the rich history and dynamics she created between a…

There’s this feeling I have that if I don’t tell this story soon, it will kill me. I feel the words catching in my throat, building up strength to strangle me. I feel them winding around my heart, squeezing. Despite the impending doom, I am faced with a major dilemma…

My mom died on July 18, 2021. I’ve been in a weird in-between state, half awake and half-sleep. I wanted to post on social media a funny experience I had with my sons but I could not bring myself to share it. I cannot share the few glimpses of light…