“15+ years later, I am heartbroken over it. My mother is one of the most insecure people I know.”
Nothing magical happens when you reach a certain age.
“Forty two now and had no regrets until a couple years ago. Now I sometimes regret the decision, and wish I could go back and do things differently. Other times, I am glad to not have kids.”
My 35th birthday found me very raw from the breakup of a long-term relationship and living at home with a mother who loves to ask, “When am I going to be a grandmother?”
America is a beautiful melting pot. This America, the America we know and love, is built on diversity.
Evil kids say the damndest things.
I couldn’t care less about petty things, like what people think of me. I haven’t had my hair highlighted in six months. I can’t remember the last time I bought a pair of designer jeans.
That last of the wine still processing, I got up to relieve myself, but stopped as soon as I stood up next to the bed. Something was off about the room. A childish sense of fear had started to seep into my sobering mind.
Someone was in our apartment.
We must remind ourselves that we are not spectators of this world watching a high-definition movie on the big screen. We are this world.
When I conjure up memories of what it is like to be raised by addicts, I get a sepia toned movie reel that contains both months of nothing but frozen meals as well as instances of laughter while being ticked by my mom.