trauma

I thought healing would mean lying. I thought allowing myself to be helped would be falsifying documents that stated I was all right or had a happy life when I did not. I thought all I had going for me was my refusal to lie about my life, and I didn't want to give that up.

I realized I wanted to be part of the BDSM world, and that maybe it could help with healing.

Eventually, I had to admit that the past I wanted to have — the mother I wished for so desperately — didn’t exist. I am re-parenting myself as I parent.

I don’t typically lie to a date (or in general), but I was ashamed of my desire for wanting stuffed animals as an adult in my late thirties.

For me, getting angry is really easy, and to get out of anger is really difficult. This has brought me problems with all the people around me.

A reminder that you just never know what sorrow a child’s terrible attitude might be masking. A reminder that probably applies to adults as well.

I don't know if I should continue the friendship and accept my friend's apology for sexually assaulting me. I am still getting flashbacks and depression.

Fat Girl Scarcity — the sense that we are not enough or that we don’t have enough — permeates the life of a person in a marginalized body.