“I saw a man walk onto my porch, then he bent down like he was hiding. So, I was like, ‘Hell no, you aren’t about to steal my Halloween decorations.’ I grab a baseball bat and the dog, open the door, jump out and literally yell ‘Freeze!’ The man stands up, and he’s holding a pair of underwear. I’m like, ‘You dirty old man, you’re on my porch smelling underwear.’ I’m out here swinging this baseball bat and he’s screaming, ‘Wait! Wait!’”
“When he didn’t show up after work, I began to worry. It was dark now, past our son’s bedtime. Finally, we found him. In the ICU of the hospital. I jumped out of the car at the ER entrance, ran to the elevator. ‘Walk, please!’ the security guard called after me. A young man finally came out to speak to us. He was talking in past tense.”
“I needed to be freshly showered for my exam. I washed everything and shaved my legs. When you’re going to get your pap smeared, you can’t just shower off. You got to do the whole 9 yards. Go for the full on, getting laid later, every nook and cranny shower. It was a mistake.”
“The cardiologist said he would need a stent for his aneurysm. My jaw dropped. ‘What aneurysm?’ I knew something was very wrong. We gathered all of his medical records from the past year. ‘You’re trying to kill my husband!’ Because of them, he was now fighting for his life.”
“BANG! ‘This is actually happening!’ I realized at that moment, this is a real. He started to target where we were hiding. People were screaming. One woman in a cocktail dress asked, ‘Where can I use the restroom?’ as bullets flew over our head. Suddenly, it all got quiet. Deafening silence. I couldn’t call my fiancé to tell her I loved her one last time.”
“My husband spent months telling me I was just hallucinating, that I was crazy. I’d run out to his car as he was leaving for work. Something felt very wrong. I later found out, I wasn’t crazy. Detectives shut the door after telling me of his death. I was humiliated I found out the truth the same night everyone else did.”
“If I didn’t make a major change, I was going to kill myself — one bite of food at a time. I’d tried everything short of having an eating disorder and had no hope. ‘How was your surgery? Oh, you lost weight, how did you do it? You took the EASY way out.’ That last comment is one that hurts me. It hurt me then and it hurts me now.”
“We tried to enjoy a weekend getaway. We could barely go out in public with our son, but we still proceeded with a dolphin show for our daughter’s sake. An elderly lady passing by was so startled, we thought she might need her smelling salts. The look of disgust and judgement was evident on her face. The rage inside me boiled over. I immediately went into full-blown ‘fight or flight’ mama bear mode.”
“We were told, ‘Her numbers look good on paper, but she won’t survive.’ The cold sore virus spread. She’d never leave the hospital alive. Before they turned off all the love-sustaining machines, I said goodbye to my first and only child. I watched as she struggled to breathe and turned blue in my arms. All I could do was hold her tightly, and cry. I watched her last breath. I died with her.”
“Lucy came downstairs one night to ask if her ‘nipples should be sore.’ I instantly realized puberty was around the corner. She told her dad, who was sitting RIGHT NEXT TO ME, that she needed bras. I, the one with breasts, was right there! Fast forward to Target. I explained to my boys Lucy needed some plain bras. They were shocked. ‘What are bras for? She doesn’t look different. Why does she need them? Is she starting puberty?’ By taking them, the stigma was already GONE.”
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