Rotting Roots
Tales from the dark side of my toxic origin story, and the havoc it inflicts on me daily.
Essays on narcissistic parenting, emotional abuse, an absent father, and the long, unfinished business of figuring out which parts of your damage are yours to carry and which ones you can put down.Absence Makes the Hatred Grow Stronger
On the particular exhaustion of being back in your mother's hometown, and why some daughters don't miss the phone call.
The Ultimate Compliment
A neighbor's offhand compliment becomes proof I escaped my mother's script entirely. On being told you're nothing like the woman who raised you.
Independently Minding My Own Business
A Guatemala-based expat's take on a mother's newly performative American patriotism, and the phone call that proved it.
The Body of Evidence
Neighbors in Guatemala remember my mother as "El cuerpo." A force of nature. A woman they speak about in awe. I inherited her face. I'm trying to figure out if I also inherited the thing that broke her.
Calling It Quits
Since I joined the neighborhood council, my mother has called me less and less. Where before she would call me daily, she is now avoiding me like the plague. Or at least she was, until she got bored and decided it was time to try and feed off my energy. How do I know this? Because at 3am, when I was already asleep, I was awakened by my mother’s ringtone. And when I didn’t answer the first time, the ringer went off again, and again, until I set my phone to vibrate.
