Tuesday was my brother’s birthday. He turned 38. How is it that my own birthday doesn’t really make me feel old (not yet, or not most of the time), but … Continue reading Thanksgiving and the “Yes/And” Rule.
Tag: narcissistic abuse
The taste of well-loved.
I know all too well what well-loved people look like. I grew up staring hungrily at them, wishing for a taste of the enveloping warmth they had the luxury of … Continue reading The taste of well-loved.
The sweater.
Once upon a time, long ago, my mother and I bought a few sweaters at Walmart. Nothing fancy (obviously), just some stretchy cable knits. We each got a black one … Continue reading The sweater.
The devil you know.
One of the figures of speech I frequently keep in mind is that the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t know. It means that sometimes, a … Continue reading The devil you know.
I’ll be here.
There’s a certain idea about arguments, and taking breaks from people. I even read a version of it in a meme just this morning. Let’s see if I can do … Continue reading I’ll be here.
Orphan vibes.
“Do I give off orphan vibes?” I asked my therapist today. They weren’t really the right words to try to explain my quandary, but it got me close enough to … Continue reading Orphan vibes.
Things I won’t apologize for on Yom Kippur.
Having feelings. Healing from my trauma. Standing up for myself. Setting boundaries, and holding fast to them. Being Jewish, and caring about Israel and the Jewish people. Being Jewish, and … Continue reading Things I won’t apologize for on Yom Kippur.
Taking stock, and I’m missing a limb.
I had a brother, once. I now live happily with my husband and daughter and speak to no immediate family members of my own at all, in order to keep … Continue reading Taking stock, and I’m missing a limb.
House of Cards.
Strong foundations, sturdy walls;I thought I lived in a house of stone.Storms came and knocked it downAnd now I sit here, all alone.Huddled against the cold and wind,My shelter tumbled … Continue reading House of Cards.
Saving yourself.
My five year old daughter recently told me that she loves Elsa, from Frozen, because, “she saves herself.” It gave me pause. I told her that I loved that idea, … Continue reading Saving yourself.
