Sunday is my one day off from working out, my rest day (though it is often chaotic and stressful in other ways), but my body and mind haven’t felt good doing nothing. I don’t get to sleep in with a toddler anyway, and getting up to exercise tries to ensure that I can get a …
It all started with a cough. Then it evolved into a story about a runaway. And then betrayal and death. And then silence. Always silence. But first, the cough. I had never seen a horse cough before. She would lean forward, stretch her head down towards the ground, and her entire body would convulse to …
Confession time: when I started both my weight loss and personal healing journeys, I did so with a severely flawed premise, that this process would somehow transform me into who I might have been. I spent so much time thinking about the impacts of trauma, my childhood, and the various impacts of my weight, so …
There’s an Instagram account I follow, @survivingchildhoodtrauma, that posts daily writing prompts about trauma and recovery. I always read and think about them, but I’ve never written in response to one before. Until now. And not because I feel inspired, but because I feel called out and ashamed. And just sad. “How do I show …
Beautiful and broken Brilliant and foolish Elegant and rough Determined pushover Captive eagle Wild and caged I collect your broken pieces And attempt to construct meaning Where maybe there never was If I am a cycle breaker I’m saying you did something wrong Which is violating I’m sorry You did your best I can’t fault …
A couple of weeks ago, I took the huge step of meeting a wonderful friend for drinks and appetizers. In a restaurant. With other humans. It was both nerve-wracking and awesome, the first time I had been in a restaurant in more than a year and a half. But that’s not the point of this …
It’s my birthday. Forty-two. Historically, my birthday has sucked. Actually, all my life, though I have realized that the more recent sucking has kinda been my own fault. History lesson: I don’t remember much about my early birthdays, except they were big family events until we moved away from everyone when I was six. My …
I was mature for my age. Everyone said so. I regularly babysat for quite a few families in our church, including two families that each had six kids, and I took care of a one-year-old down the street two full days a week while her mother worked. Being homeschooled, I was available during the day, …
When you start a journey through your messed up psyche, you have to be prepared to stumble on some ugly truths about yourself. Or maybe not so much stumble upon as be smacked in the face by a baseball bat of truth. Gobsmacked, perhaps. Though that makes it seem more comical and less brutally painful. …
I need time. I need space. I need a continuum, all to myself. Everyone is too loud, too needy, too big, too everything. I feel like I’m shrinking. I need more me. I feel like I haven’t been myself all week. How sad is that: I can only be me once in a while for …