LJ Herman

LJ Herman is a former editor at Love What Matters and lives in Colorado. LJ is a concert, ticket and technology enthusiast. He has seen the Dave Mathews Band over one hundred times and counting.

‘Why am I so excited to leave work just to go home to an empty home and spend Friday alone, again?’: Woman urges to find ‘true friends,’ not the ones who ‘pass judgement’

“I definitely don’t want to hang out with the friend who tells me my husband walked about because there was obviously something wrong with me. My best friend, my soul sister, told me ‘I can’t even keep my life together’ because I was not able to keep my marriage together. Ouch.”

‘My husband and I married. ‘I’m going to be a stay-at-home mom,’ I declared. With little push-back from him, out popped 2 children.’: SAHM’s candid feelings on feeling ‘horribly unseen’

“I proceeded with my plan to be Susie Homemaker meets Carol Brady. But no one was around to witness it. I was with another human all day, but felt horribly unseen. I was over-touched, but not talked to enough. I’d been constantly moving, but never really exercised my mind. I often found myself staring at the clock, willing the magical sound of the garage door to arrive.”

‘It’s day 721 of not seeing you. You aren’t something we can pack up, put in a box and label with a Sharpie. You are our son.’: Mom’s grief journey after losing military son, ‘I miss you’

“The lady at the thrift store bravely asked about how we were doing. And you know what? I didn’t lie. I didn’t say good. I thought, ‘Wow, it has been over 2 years. How can that be?’ I found your box of baby clothes and the blankets Grandma made you. You are everywhere here, and at times I don’t want to live in this place anymore.”

‘We were miserable. We argued every night. The tension was terrible. And then it was Christmas break. I honestly was nervous.’: Wife realizes being together ‘all day’ was ‘exactly’ what she and husband needed

“My husband and I were literally at each other’s throats. I was struggling with feeling like a single mom because he was so busy with his job. He tried in his own way. I should have voiced things more so he knew how to help me, and I didn’t. I just expected him to know. That wasn’t fair to him.”

‘I promised I’d never divorce him. I was an Evangelical Christian woman. I wasn’t about to give that up because my disturbed husband couldn’t stop screaming at me.’: Woman leaves her abusive pastor husband after 10 years, ‘I never looked back’

“I hid big, dark, angry, broken feelings from the world. If I acknowledged their legitimacy, that meant I had to acknowledge that my husband–the megachurch pastor–was my abuser. And I was his victim. No, thanks! I’d much prefer to pretend everything is fine and our family is blessed.”

‘Out comes Cathy. ‘I would never give a child an iPad. That’s just lazy parenting,’ she said, loud enough so I could hear.’: Mom explains ‘the world is very different now’ when raising children with technology

“I went to open my mouth to tell her exactly how I am not a lazy parent and she can piss off, but instead, I smiled. ‘Why do you think it’s lazy?’ Shocked, she replied, ‘Well instead of actually doing things, parents don’t have to parent – they just give them mind numbing devices. Children grow up not normal,’ she said, ever so smugly.”

‘Unprompted by any of us, she began drawing in the sand. ‘I love you’. It took my breath away thinking about her leaving messages in the sand to her dad.’: Widow and young daughter visit Wales to spread husband’s ashes

“I promised you I’d bring you here. You must have known how much we needed to meet your people and how loved we would be by them in this moment. When the tide comes in, it will wash over Quinn’s drawing and take you out into the sea you loved, in a place you loved. We will always be able to come back here and know that part of you will never leave.”

‘I’ve failed. I can’t do this. I’m too old. No one will ever want me. I’ll never be good enough in anyone’s eyes.’ Mom recalls struggles as a single mom, urges ‘You are made for more’

“I see you: It’s early morning. Your hands grip the edge of your kitchen sink; head slumped as the last few peaceful moments of the morning diminish to dust in the rays through the window. You grasp for air in your lungs. Razor waves of all the anxiety in your life grate against your throat with each breath you take. I know you’re tired.”

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