A public letter to my estranged mother, in text and audio.
Posts tagged personal are more “personal” than my usual flavor of “personal”. Though this flavor has changed over time, I keep the posts originally tagged as such in here because I fine the personal development nostalgic.
It’s National Eating Disorder Awareness Week.
Because I’m someone you know, I’m sharing my own struggle with an eating disorder.
I’m not one to share my goals—this is different. (I think.) I’m already in the progress of accomplishing these things.
Not everything is personal. Soccer analogies and metaphors await you in this post, but it’s not so much sports speak to confuse anyone unfamiliar with the sport—I barely understand it, and I played one season, watched at least five, and refereed somewhere between three and six games…or was it more? Meh.
My mind has been blank lately. I start to write or type up any post, and my brain flakes out. I’ve not been able to type much on my phone due to my carpal tunnel syndrome acting up and hurting so bad. Instead of reorganizing my room, I am likely gonna be packing things I […]
I forgot how to do a lot of things in the midst of my reality. Last year was a difficult time for me, and I’ve been keeping everything in lately like I’m expected to and pretending it’s no big deal. It’s not working.
Elders got a kick out of telling us kids we weren’t really in love, but looking back, I know that that was real love at the time—there was patience and kindness, respect and understanding. Our situations differed, but our experiences were similar.
For this reason, I’ll always refer to Daniel as my first love.
This post is a shout-out to anyone and everyone who has ever been hurt by the church. I am participating in #ApologizefortheChurch, because I believe it needs to change. We have enough hate in the world already, and God’s people are supposed to love and not be hateful—and really, living life is a complex mess of a thing enough as it is. Puberty and high school are hard enough.
Being on both sides of the community, I know one apology—or even a hundred apologies—isn’t enough. But it’s a start.