Loss

I am still lost. A traveler here. But I’ve recognized I have no home where I came from, no place to go back to. This sets my course.

I lost everything I had. I lost very little.

This is not the first time I’ve suffered a great loss, turned my back on people I’ve loved in the name of self-preservation.  » Read more

Continue Reading

The Power of Words

1997

The day after it happens, I go to school with a headache and slivers of memory. There are pieces missing, things I can’t find an explanation for. When I see the smirking faces, I feel blood burning in my brain, my body reacting without any input from my mind. I bolt to the bathroom and throw up.  » Read more

Continue Reading

Humiliation

9 years old

Though I am running a fever, I go to a dear friend’s sleepover at her insistence. The conversation turns to my developing body. I am the only girl in the fourth grade wearing a bra. The other girls pressure me, mock me, calling me names, chiding me for my boob fat,  » Read more

Continue Reading

I’m the hyper, nauseatingly precocious kid in all the snaps, wearing an evening gown at the breakfast table, correcting my mother’s grammar in a Grover t-shirt. A good Catholic girl who still idolizes her father because he works 70 hours a week and never says anything to her.

Those are the years before I understand loneliness as more than an abstraction,  » Read more

Continue Reading