Something is happening with my dad. Overtures have been made. A phone call here or there. An email. A text. A question that asks “Are you happy? I hope that you’re happy.” An invite for lunch when he’s in town for a business meeting. He’s trying, but it’s all very peculiar.
My heart isn’t necessarily hardened [...]
I never rebelled growing up. I’ve always been a reliable, “good” daughter. And yet, the verbal maneuvering and emotional posturing of my mother is resulting in a late twenties rebellion.
Our phone conversation last night began innocuously enough. How’s work, what did you do this weekend, how was the movie, let’s plan Mother’s Day, and the [...]
“What are these?” he asked as the faintest grey light began to peek through the window panes. It was quiet still, before coffee pots would be filled and church goers would gather. Laying naked, my arm comfortably resting on his chest, he softly traced the pale lines of my forearm with his fingertips. I was [...]
I read a quote from Peter Sellers today: “There used to be a real me, but I had it surgically removed.”
How do I write about this? Why do I feel compelled to do so?
Lately, I’ve felt as though I’ve disappeared. Like the real me has been folded up, wrapped in tissue paper, and stored in [...]
