“One ex-boyfriend told me, ‘I HATE when women tell me no.’ No wonder he liked me, I was his perfect victim! I was afraid to wear my hair curly, so I straightened it every day. I wore colored contacts to look more like the favored girls with blonde hair and blue eyes. I said yes to my professor’s inappropriate advances which led me to being alone in his office where he tried to sexually harass me. I was fearful he’d give me a bad grade if I wasn’t nice to him.”
“‘My entire adult life, I’ve been a father. Now I am not sure who I am without them,’ my husband said, sitting across from me at the restaurant. I wasn’t ready for this. I failed to anticipate this. ‘Slow down. You are fast-forwarding,’ you might say. And you would be right. I need to slow down.”
“In our home, we’re currently raising a 17 year old, 14 year old, 7 year old, and 5 year old. For the greater part of my time as a parent, I’ve been parenting children at nearly every possible stage of development, emotionally and physically. It’s confusing, gut-wrenching, and beautiful. All at once. All the time. Every day. It’s knowing I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world, while also wondering if I’m getting any of it right.”
“‘It doesn’t look good. I’m sorry.’ Her words echoed through my head, but I dared not let them sink in. Instead I collapsed against the waiting room wall. She had been healthy my entire life. She never smoked a cigarette. She didn’t drink alcohol. When the surgeon exited those double doors, removed her mask and looked at me, I could see it all over her face. My mother didn’t make it through.”
“We don’t know who was in this photo, their tiny features are far too difficult to differentiate at less than an hour old. Just moments after my husband took this picture, our two babies were rushed up to the NICU. We never had that picture-perfect moment in the delivery room, the one where a smiling family shows off their precious newborn. Instead, this is our photo.”
“I am SO burned out. My kids don’t respect my needs. My clients push me around. It’s time to show everyone, including myself, where the standard is for how you treat ‘Meg.'”
“Years ago, I was married to a different man who cared more about material possessions than his family. We had a big house with an incredible view, nice vehicles, a boat in the driveway. We were, in fact, the Joneses. But inside the front door, life was filled with drug abuse, infidelity, and violence. Two children who never saw their father, or only saw him screaming at their mother. From the outside, we were the envy of neighbors and friends. Inside, it was a nightmare.”
“My husband held me as I cried and said, ‘I just don’t know if I can do it all again.’ I took a minute to figure out if it was the path I wanted to take. I was so exhausted, I didn’t know what would happen nor was I in a state to even TRY. I dug deep and knew in my heart I had to fight again. I was not going to let my family down by giving up.”
“We didn’t know when we went to bed, and you told us you loved us, it would be the last time we saw you alive. You didn’t know either. You only wanted care from the VA. Did you know the priority mail envelope that contained your hearing appointment was finally delivered to me, 4 months after you died? Yeah, you can’t make this up. We applied because of your pain.”
“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.”
