Today I picked up a pen and wrote my name on a sticky note to place on a suicide remembrance / suicide survivor board at The Chickasaw Nation Clinic. It’s such a small thing, a name and a few words on a poster, surrounded by the names and words of strangers. But standing there, pen …
My earliest memories are not birthday parties. They are holes. I remember D showing me a small opening in the wall that looked into a bathroom. I was three, maybe four. I remember seeing things I did not understand and feeling confused about why I was being shown. We moved to Oklahoma before I started …
To believe that a person can carry trauma around simply saying “I love you” sits in my soul like a lead weight. I grew up with my mom’s two oldest children, my half-siblings, L and D. I’m ten years younger, which shaped everything about the way we connected. When I was little, I didn’t understand …
I Had Never Been Loved I grew up in a pretty large family, with five kids. I was next to the youngest. Growing up, my mom’s two eldest children always made me feel as if I was unwanted and unlovable. I also carried the feeling that both of my parents were more inclined to love …