My parents divorced when I was 24 after a very surprising affair.
It tore me to pieces. My parents were never especially nice to one another, so while the divorce was not completely out of left field, it was still a shock realizing what this new reality meant.
My mother started dating a year after they split up. She was in all honestly, probably not mentally ready. (She was emotionally distraught for years after she found out about the affair.) When I first met the man she was dating, I thought he was nice enough and seemed to treat my mom very well.
Over the next few months however, I started learning a number of not so great things about him - all things my mother told me. He had the CRA after him for a boat load of unpaid taxes. He frittered his money away on absolutely...
Family
This is an open letter to my father.
To my father who did not come to my undergraduate graduation ceremony four days ago.
To my father who has never asked me if I needed anything.
To my father who has never supported anything I've done.
To my father who my boyfriend had to force to attend my junior college graduation two years ago.
To my father who criticizes everything I do.
To my father who doesn't know how to have a conversation with me.
To my father who decided he would rather paint a house than attend my graduation.
To my father who looked me in my eyes and lied when he said he was leaving for the ceremony soon.
To my father who, not one month ago, I went to the store to buy soft food for because he was so sick he could barely eat.
To my father who came...
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Dear Little Brother,
I saved you last night.
I drove to you. I found you. I kicked in someone's door, who was just as far gone as you. I stood up to that KID. I got you out of there. And for a moment, you were safe. For a moment, I was able to protect you.
But it was all a dream.
I woke up, in tears, and cold chills, thinking about where you could be.
Did I do this? Is it because I wasn't here?
Did I do this? Is it because you needed a friend, and your big sister was off in college trying to make a life for herself, and wasn't here to keep you straight?
Did I do this? Did I forget to tell you that I love you?
Did I do this?
Blaming myself becomes easier and easier as I lay here and think about the empty bed in the room next to me. I just want you home. Safe.
We had...
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Today I read the news about a young woman whom was sexually assaulted behind a dumpster at a frat party. She was completely unconscious, yet her attacker maintained she had given consent. This hit hard for me. Since there is much you don’t know about me some of which you will never know, you wouldn’t understand why it hit me so hard to read this news. But I am going to share with you and the world something very few know. I am also a victim of a sexual assault. So when I read this story, I, like most victims, immediately had my own experiences and memories rush back into my mind. Into the pit of my stomach. I felt instantly sickened for her, for myself and for every woman who has ever been a victim of any sexual abuse or assault.
So I am writing to you today to help you get an...
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Dear Parents of Young Kids:
On the list of things that must be done by parents, ranked by the amount of sheer terror invoked at the very thought, “The Talk” is at the top. I understand why. Sex one of the few topics that is talked about with hushed voices and innuendos and subtle nods, yet is still talked about all the time, in every conceivable place, or during any event. The younger the audience, the less inclined to explain we are, which means that they look elsewhere for answers. This means that when you finally get around to having that dreaded talk, your kids will probably already know most, if not all, of what you want to tell them. In fact, they will probably know more.
When I was twelve, the day after I started my period, my mom and dad wedged me between them on the...
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Today is my one year anniversary with my husband, and there are a few things I have heard over the course of this year and the months leading up to our wedding that I would like to give my thoughts on.
I’d like to start by saying I don’t understand in the least bit some people’s opinions and thoughts on marriage. So many times my husband and I have heard negative remarks on how hard marriage is. They talk about arguments and other things that don’t make sense to me. For example, the other day we had someone say to us, “Wow! You guys have almost made it a year and you are still together! That’s awesome!” I didn’t know what to think. Is being married a year really so shocking? Didn’t we stand across from each other, promising, “till’ death do us part?” Does that mean nothing anymore?...
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Dearest hosts, sponsors, donators, volunteers, organizers, supporters, community, friends, family, and complete strangers:
The lotus is a flower that grows in the mud. The thicker and deeper the mud, the more beautiful the lotus blooms.
It has been almost a year of extremely thick mud our precious Emma has been growing in. Although her body may be showing the toll the pain this degenerative brain disease has taken on her; her sweet spirit is continuing to bloom into a perfect, beautiful girl she always has been and continues to be.
May 4th , Shelby Jr High hosted with the Shelby Lions Club a fundraiser dinner for our daughter’s mounting medical expenses. The turnout and support for the event was overwhelming. Literally hundreds of people from the Metro Detroit area supported...
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I'm sorry you decided to take your own life.
I'm sorry I don't know why you did it or what you were going through that led you there. I'm sorry you felt alone, and I'm sorry I didn't call you more. I'm sorry I didn't send you pictures of the kids or e-mail you their report cards, and I'm sorry they didn't call you and tell you about the birthday parties they had and the presents they got.
I'm sorry You had financial troubles and couldn't pay the bills. I'm sorry I didn't tell you how much I missed you living so far away, and I'm sorry I couldn't fly down there and take you home. I'm sorry that now when I think of you I have to cry.
I'm sorry I didn't hug you the last time I saw you.
I'm sorry about the holiday dinners you missed and the time I wasted thinking about...
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Dear Joey,
I've wanted to do something like this for awhile but I'm glad I waited until now because if I wrote it earlier I probably would've wrote "to my unborn daughter" (because I was so certain you were a girl. Sorry kid). I think the reason I so heavily thought you were a girl was because I assumed that would be easier. I don't know how much I'll reveal to you about your father, but I'm sure by now you know enough. I am terrified of raising you as a single mother. I don't know manly things, and I don't know what it's like to be a boy. I figured if you were a little girl, it would be so much easier because I know everything about being a girl, I've been one my whole life. The whole story of you coming about into my life is full of scary moments, I won't lie. January 19, 2016...
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I ask you this, how am I supposed to move on from a childhood that I will never get back? How do I get the abusive memories out of my head? How am I supposed to piece back together the heart that you both destroyed? Our house was not a home, it was just an abusive home that my brother and I couldn't run away from because we needed you guys, you fed us, you kept us alive, and without you we would have died. I would like to say that the pain in my heart from what you both did to me faded over the years, but it never did. My heart was broken into millions of pieces and on the journey of life, I am searching for someone who can maybe glue all the little pieces back together.
I hope you two are happy with the thought that you destroyed my life. I was once a victim, but I will forever be a...
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