Reflections on inherited family patterns, generational wounds, and the ongoing work of understanding what gets passed.
I’ve been reflecting on how, in my family—and unironically, in the family of the man I had children with—belonging was not rooted in mutual care, nuance, or individuality. It was…
Letting Go Each day, I live with the ache that I may not see my children again. We may not have another real conversation or moment of closeness. That may…
My sons learned, by design, to have zero tolerance for their mother. Ordinary acts of parenting—direction, correction, consequences, even simple questions—were rejected and reframed as manipulation or control. I once…
Looking back, I notice how often I gravitated toward people who couldn’t tolerate my pain but expected the world to organize itself around their pleasure. When they were uncomfortable, everyone…