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.
Depleted Momentum • The Art of Weaponized Truth
I told my mother I came to Guatemala to write. That was my first mistake. She stayed two months, and my writing stalled.
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.
Stress Eating My Emotional Abuse
La Llorona arrived for Christmas and I've been eating non-stop ever since. Emotional abuse and terrible coping mechanisms.
