I’m very writer-y, but not always very talker-y. When I write, I tip myself upside down, shaking my thoughts loose from the nooks and crannies they’ve wedged into. I empty my brain’s pockets of all the angst I’ve stuffed deep inside. Then I begin to slowly work through the jumbled pile, organizing and editing as … More That first social event without the crutch of booze—uff-da!—and then some.
Are you doing that thing again? Where you focus solely on the daunting distance you’ve left to travel. The granite-heavy workload you’ve still to muster. The labor-intensive recovery yet unfinished. Thus you forget to honor and celebrate just how far you’ve already come? The obstacles you’ve already surmounted?
Once my secret was told, she surprised me by saying, “Me too.” And then we wept together. … More Ending your too-long struggle with secrecy and shame: tell your hard story to break the heavy bonds of self-imposed silence and finally begin to heal fully.
I was 10 years old when my ongoing sexual abuse at the hands of a male relative finally ended. I don’t remember how old I was when he began molesting me, only that I was too young to understand what was happening and what it was called. Or that it was criminal and demented and … More The reason we end our silence and finally disclose our sexual abuse.
When I saw this photo of myself, my immediate inclination was to delete it and then go about my life pretending I’d never seen it. … More Does this jet ski make my butt look big? And other dumb things I’ve focused on.