A day before my 37th birthday my father had the audacity to die.
We idealize our parents so much that we trick our brains into thinking they can do no wrong. And then we are devastated beyond repair when they do.
You didn’t grow up seeing your parents plant kisses on each other and say, “I love you” before leaving the house. Affection is foreign to you. That’s why you’re so uncomfortable with PDA.
This past week, I lost my mother. I keep going over it in my head that in just eight short days, I lost my mother. I watched the stage four cancer engulf her and swallow her without any remorse.
This has helped me to lose all expectations of my relationships with other people — people I work with, my friends, my lovers. Not in a way where I don’t have needs that have to be met, but where I’ve come to realize that different people will meet my needs in different ways.
Motherhood is the most beautiful experience for any woman.
Little one, don’t be like me when I was younger. Don’t wilt, bloom. Don’t hide yourself away and shut everyone out. Always be open. Live your life with your arms wide open.
I don’t want to be okay. The man who raised me, the one who tickled me after bath time, the one who took me on fifty mile hikes, the one who came to pick me up at one in the morning when my car died, is dead.
Unfortunately, many new moms don’t know the signs of postpartum depression and, once detected, are too afraid or embarrassed to seek help.
What if my kid never finds true love? What if they feel perpetually misunderstood? What if I’m the one who just can’t understand them?