“You don’t date?” Alex asked, once again joining Tara and me sitting in the bleachers.
“No,” I said.
“Why ever not,” she asked.
I was ridiculously naïve and socially backward in so many ways. Being raised in an alcoholic family can do that. It was better to hide away and shut down rather than feel the extreme joy or intense pain of life.
Like most of us, I had learned from what my parents taught by how they relate to one ...
“Where have you been?” My mother asked angrily. “I was so worried.” Calmly and without emotion, her body in shock, Jenise answered, “I was raped.”
I saw my mother’s face become stone, trying her best ...
Our lives are ultimately a love story, aren’t they?
We strive to move through and dodge the pain, keep it away, sometimes embrace it, and other times we swear, scream, lash out, beat another down, with words, fists . . . all to make us safe, our family safe, our friends . . . because we love them.
Or we fear them. Or we want them to fear us, or love us, or forgive us.
Do we love ourselves in the same way?
Do ...
Continue Reading →I knew my sister was hurt, and hurt badly.
Still, I judged. What did she do to bring this on?
Why couldn’t I put my arms around her?
Was I like my mom?
Was the way people got hurt too much for dad? Is that why he drank?
Weren’t we all numb in my family? Afraid to reach out, to put our arms around each other, to say “I love you”
We numbed with alcohol, detachment, being busy . . . the ways stayed ...
* If you’ve been raised in family addiction, you know what family secrets are.
* When you cover family secrets, do you feel like no one will understand?
* When you feel alone, do you feel abandoned?
THERE’S NO RIGHT TIME TO BEGIN TO TELL YOU STORY.
EXPLAIN, EXPLORE, HELP OTHERS TO DISCOVER — THEY AREN’T ALONE. MILLIONS HAVE COME FROM GENERATIONS BEFORE, TRYING TO STOP THE DYSFUNCTION.
When your story involves dark family secrets, secrets that need to be told, secrets that may offend ...
Continue Reading →