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My Own Prison
I've been held captive by the generational trauma of my mother. I wish it hadn't taken me so long to figure out just how deep in this prison I had been kept.
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Improper Expectations
We had only been in Guatemala two weeks, and my mother had already asked me three times if I was happy to be here. And each time I gave her the same answer: Yes, I was happy to be here.
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Time Flies When You’re Not Having Fun
Twelve years ago I wrote about the Year of the Horse. Time flew and I wasn't having fun. I was hopeful in 2014. I'm exhausted in 2026. Here we go again.
