I assumed that magically when I turned twenty my taste buds would radically change and all of a sudden salad and broccoli would start to taste like snickers.
Why are we so terrified of talking to our kids about sexual orientation? Are we scared to shatter their innocence?
When you are a child of divorce, you don’t believe in marriage or happy endings anymore. You believe that at some point, a relationship will end and that’s that.
I miss my innocence. I miss feeling invincible. There is a small part of me that will always be frozen in time at fifteen, praying that things will turn out differently. I am still learning to be okay with that.
“You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.”
We learn to forgive the person that caused so much pain, love the person we’ve grown to hate. But, when do we forgive ourselves? When do we love ourselves?
You get lost in crowds. Like, literally. You’ve gotten separated from your family and, because of your short stature, it wasn’t easy to locate you.
Thank you for teaching me that I am worth something.
“I saw our dog that had long been dead go to where his food bowl used to be to eat.”
At one point, my relationship with my father was such a struggle that I assumed we’d be estranged as soon as I moved out of my parents’ house. Thankfully, the older I got, the more my father and I managed to understand each other.