Triggered. You laugh at the word and point out how overused it is these days. You sit in your leather chairs, backs comfortably reclined as you swivel behind the glossy desk proclaiming your entitlement. It is so easy for you to roll your eyes and then apologize for your reaction. Your genitalia allows you to retract … Continue reading Triggered

Broken Grief

This feeling…this sad feeling…covers me like a blanket…suffocating me slowly. It is not a new feeling…it is an anticipated one. Do not project…they told me…do not lose faith in humanity…you can never know the outcome…you can never know for sure. So I tried not to project…not to expect to be hurt… But I am not … Continue reading Broken Grief

Dear Asshole

(trigger warning - please don't read if you are not in a safe place) Dear Asshole, I wonder, when you kiss your wife, if you remember what it felt like to shove your tongue into my mouth...your teeth hitting mine as you demanded I open my lips more.. I remember. I can still taste your … Continue reading Dear Asshole

Dear Spouses,

  Dear, dear spouses… of victims… of survivors… of the broken people... Thank you. Thank you for not letting us push you away. Thank you for seeing past the desperate facade we thought was infallible. Thank you for understanding that not everyone wants to be touched…or can be touched…and adjusting your needs accordingly. Thank you … Continue reading Dear Spouses,


The tears won’t stop. They fall…without my permission…as I try to understand why my mind isn’t letting me process this. It’s just a damn apology, I tell myself.  Accept it.  Just take it and let it all go. But something is holding me back. I call my husband… I tell him through sobs…and he gets … Continue reading Forgiveness

Dying To Forget

Sometimes, late at night when I should be asleep, I remember. I remember how I used to be…when things were bad…when I was a bad little girl… And I wonder…if I could talk to her…what would I say? I should say…the things I was taught to say to her… I’m so sorry you’re hurting. It’s … Continue reading Dying To Forget

How I Stood Up To AMI

I can’t write about AMI magazine and the Weberman case. I can’t go there. But I wanted you to know - anyone who knows me and understands me - that I sent them an e-mail today. Please remove me from your mailing list.  I do not wish to write for a magazine such as yours … Continue reading How I Stood Up To AMI

The Words I Am Made Of

I cannot find the words to express the puddle of feelings I sit in. I cannot understand how I came to be here, curled up on the floor…a victim…again. I am searching, digging through my past to find where this fits…but it is so different…so strange… I pursued peace, as I am taught to do, … Continue reading The Words I Am Made Of

Oh The Places I’ve Come From

“Cleveland, Cleveland, convention in Cleveland….Convention ‘97 will last forever……” Ringing in my ears as an unwanted memory, the BY Convention song my mother wrote fourteen years ago plays in my head like a broken record.  I guess she got it right - about it lasting forever and ever and ever…but how I wish it would … Continue reading Oh The Places I’ve Come From