The clouds begin to part and my minds begins to wake again. I look around myself. The dishes in the sink. Every table surface covered in lazily misplaced books and toys. I remember that I did not always live this way. I begin to see again, like when your eyes adjust to opening after deep [...]
Anxiety is an enemy I can't escape. Every morning, it is the gnawing in my gut. The weight on my chest. The relentless feelings of overwhelm. My mind accuses me. Hopeless. Useless. Terrible. Good for nothing. Every interaction with others requires monumental effort. Every minor task, an enormity. Crushed under the weight of all expectations. [...]
When puberty came, I kept Body slim and hungry When the male gaze found me, I covered Body with baggy clothes Scars form valleys and roads across Body, such as I raged against it Fingers down my throat, punishing. Young adulthood brought new understandings, Body grew and I allowed it to expand, to get full [...]
We won’t go anywhere today My loves Body and mind separate Only a half mother is left Wash the dishes Clean the floors Push back the creeping darkness- Desires Raise your voice an octave and smile There is no help coming There is no one to reach inside you And resuscitate your deteriorating heart No [...]
When I was 15, I was in a “residential treatment center”. Basically, I lived with other teen girls in a big house and we went to school and therapy together. It was actually a very nice one (thanks mom). But the point of this story is this- one day during group therapy we were talking [...]
I have to speak. Every day I see more clearly. Once, I was a child who thought she knew the truth of her transgressions. Then, I was a young woman who covered her past with shame. Now, I am a woman who sees. I accepted the narrative my abusers gave me. I saw myself through [...]
How do you know when something has died? A root from the earth, and stars in her eyes.
Sometimes I feel so defeated as a mother. Are we allowed to speak this truth? Child of my own flesh and blood, yet she remains a mystery to me. I try to build strong walls to keep her from turning to the right or to the left, but I am reminded of my human frailty.
This spring weather has been unpredictable. Unseasonably warm sunshine bleeds into dark curling storm clouds, threatening tornados. Some evenings I walk outside and breathe in the smell of the wet earth, growing again after the floods. Then, I take the children for walks during the day and we save half-dried worms off the warming concrete sidewalks. I’m not sure why, but I could never leave them there to wither.
They don’t even know it, but they redeemed me. They lead me to the water of forgiveness. I was born, when they were born.