My mom and I are estranged. Due to the toxicity of the relationship and her narcissism, I have no interest in having a mother-daughter relationship with her.
Actually, since her husband believes children are always supposed to fear their parents, never even maintaining a good camaraderie into the kids’ adulthood, I can’t have a healthy relationship with her. My mom also neglected me when I was little, often leaving me in the hands of said husband.
I could have titled this “If men could get pregnant, birth control would be free”, but I didn’t (so take your poppycock to someone who gives a fox).
A public letter to my estranged mother, in text and audio.
It’s National Eating Disorder Awareness Week.
Because I’m someone you know, I’m sharing my own struggle with an eating disorder.
This is the story of the catalyst leading to the estrangement between my mom and me.
It was, for better or for worse, the point of no return. Of everything else that transpired between us all, we could have gone back.
We couldn’t after this.
This cozy, coming-of-age romance story wrapped its arms around me and swallowed me whole.
Christmas is next week! I’ve been busy wrapping presents (ugh, so fun!) for busy family members, among other things.
A raw recollection of an experience of PTSD shortly after, and as, it occurs.
Reader discretion advised. Detailed descriptions of abuse.
I’m so annoyed right now. I just want to scream, break something, anything — I want to do anything. I hate how, whenever I post something on Facebook, people start assuming shit. I really freaking hate it. That is when I find myself wishing I shared my blog with people offline. However, if I did […]
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