incest
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Times of reflection are the best way to start a week. Ask yourself this question: “Do you believe that everyone must give account to God for every action? Hebrews 4:12-13 says, “12 For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the…
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Living through all the evil in my childhood should have set me up with a clear vision to see evil as an adult, spot the deceiving way of an abuser and recognize their lies. Right? Wrong! My mind had been poisoned so severely that my vision was skewed and I could not predict a true…
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Let me tell you something about stories—they are the bones we bury, the ones we dig up, hoping the earth hasn’t gnawed them clean. When you come from a childhood where the wolves wore human faces, it is tempting to keep silent, to let the past rot beneath your skin. But silence is a cruel…
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I have journeyed through the labyrinth of my lineage, where ancestral wounds festered and generational curses lingered like unwelcome ghosts. In the crucible of motherhood, I have forged light from darkness, crafting a sanctuary for my children, free from the chains of the past. To break these inherited curses is to become an alchemist of…
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Suicide and death are such a common theme among incest survivors. You know why? It’s all murder, that’s why. I only saw my father a handful of times after that. He had chosen deceit and the battle between us was on. About six months before this illness, I’d dreamt that my father was milling about…
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Suicide and death are such a common theme among incest survivors. You know why? It’s all murder, that’s why. I only saw my father a handful of times after that. He had chosen deceit and the battle between us was on. About six months before this illness, I’d dreamt that my father was milling about…
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The holidays are over, and the house exhales. The lights have been taken down, their warm glow replaced by the pale, gray stare of winter. Silence presses against the walls, a silence so thick I can hear my own breath, can feel the weight of my pulse in my throat. The children, flushed with the…
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Introspection — what better way to start a week. Question: What would life feel like uninhibited by pain? Brigadoon is a place that is idyllic, unaffected by time, or remote from reality. My Brigadoon is living a life hidden with God. I am tucked away in his kingdom – forever safe. I am not remote from reality but…
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There was no gavel, no crowd to witness the transaction— just a little girl, broken and hollowed, learning too soon that love had sharp edges. He was my father, the one meant to shield, but his hands were storms, and his words, knives. In the aftermath, I found myself at the altar of self-destruction, offering…
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Grief is a hunger. A dark pit that yawns open beneath the feet when we least expect it. I have worn its weight like a shroud, a heavy, invisible cloak. Some days, I am drowning in the black water of memory, clutching at anything to keep my head above the waves. Other days, I am…