6 January Coming Home to Yourself
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Fifty Years to Graduation
My poor health and frail physique, the result of a bad bout of whooping cough when I was two and…
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Waving
A memoir? You’re what, 30? 37. A memoir? What have you really got to say? You haven’t lived enough to…
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Coming Out
I sat on the living room floor with my laptop, hoping no one could see me, even though I knew…
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Reinventing Ourselves
I struggled with low self-esteem, suicidal thoughts, being extremely sensitive and empathetic my entire my life. Being sensitive and empathetic…
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Accepting the Joy
As I enter my seventh year of widowhood and the first month of the New Year, I am trying to…
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Leaving Him, Coming Home to Me
Due to the sensitive nature of this piece, the author has chosen to publish anonymously. It’s 6:50pm when I pull…
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Depths of a Reflection
The girl who saw a monster reflection, remained drawn by the death made of sea. It was me, there among…
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My Call Home
I celebrated my 19th birthday in London. It was May 1966, the end of my freshman year at the University…
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Blood is Not Thicker Than Water
I don’t remember a time when I didn’t know I was adopted. It has always been an understanding and acceptance…
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