I went in not knowing what to expect – and came out not knowing what to think.
Because if you don’t take care of you first, you won’t be able to take care of anyone else.
I can look back on it and laugh now.
For now, I’m a boy, and I’m a mama, and those seemingly contradictory truths are things I can accept about myself.
After I found the messages and told him I was leaving, that’s when it started to get really bad…
I take offense to being told my pain is chronic rather than acute.
Warning: Imagery of stillbirth that may be triggering for some readers.
As an 11-year-old going to school in Australia in a small, country town, I stood out.
“And your dad?” A question I have been asked countless times, by countless people.
I’m a grown woman, and I don’t know how to eat.
Note: This post discusses childhood abuse, and may be distressing for some readers.
No matter how much I denied it, it was obvious that I was depressed.