Family
Releasing the Warrior Within
In the early days, it seemed that I had rushed through life, without taking any time to grow up. Leaving university to get married. Having children and setting up our household. When I looked at my children or attended a meeting with their teachers at school I often thought, “what on earth am I doing here? I’m still a child.”
By Gail Wylie5 years ago in Confessions
The Moment That Changed Me
The event that changed my life forever is one I will never forget. The person who was my best friend, my mother, my girlfriend, my sister, my rock, my everything passed away. And left me all alone. Without a friend in the world. Or that is the way that I felt. And sometimes that is the way that it was. My mom was an amazing person. And when I lost her… It completely changed my life. And not for the better. When my mom died, I drank… alcohol. I drank probably more alcohol than I should have been drinking. I was not eating and that could have made the drinking worse. I never drank enough to be considered an alcoholic or even drunk, But I am sure if my kids read this article, they would insist even more than they already do, that I do not ever drink again.
By Amanda J Mollett5 years ago in Confessions
Come Home, You don't have a father anymore...
First snow in my life. 3rd January 1997. I was six years old. First day of the second trimester of school. I don’t remember school that day, I’ve never seen real snow, and I was delighted. It’s strange what a children’s mind can remember from a tragic day. Could all of them be from my mind or some of them edited by people that told me the story of that day?
By Sofia Duarte5 years ago in Confessions
The Night My Life Changed
It was my mom’s fifty-sixth birthday. Mom was having a good day despite the Radiation treatments. Mom’s brother, uncle Richard was living with us, my dad, my sister, and me. I was off that night from my security guard job. When I woke up that evening, we surprised mom with a cake.
By Lawson Wallace5 years ago in Confessions
The Baker's Dozen
My eldest son loves roller coasters. He loved them as a child. He loves them still. I am, and have always been, indifferent. However, roller coasters are a great metaphor for our perception of time. I remember sitting in a boring lecture for some course arbitrarily required by the university curriculum. That is how, leaving the station, the unhurried, quiet uphill train climb feels. The cart is swaying and creaking, gravity pulling against the tow chain, its passengers, “scream-less.” But then, in an instant, we might plunge into momentous events. Those moments provide exhilaration that confirms we are alive. As I dip towards the banked sharp curve, left or right, I hope I make the right choices and then navigate them cleanly. This is the nature of the thread of time as we wind our way through life.
By Alexander J. Cameron5 years ago in Confessions
First Taste of Fear
My first memories revolve around a set of nightmares I had as a very young child. My childhood wasn't the worst, but my parents were not ready. My dad was a violent alcoholic. I've heard various rumors about drug abuse but he's never confirmed it. My mother just can't keep her hands off shit that isn't hers. More stories of them are coming. Y'all won't believe some of the things I have to share I'm sure. My first 3 years were full of violence and craziness. Then at 3 my mom was arrested and I was sent to live with my maternal grandparents who raised me. They tried.
By Amaya DreamDriven5 years ago in Confessions
A Stranger named dad
The hustle and bustle of people going to and fro mixed with the electronic beeps, and chimes of metal detectors or ticket terminals came together in a blanket of noise that filed the every inch with buzzing energy. A strange mix of anxiety and excitement seemed to radiate from the crowded waiting chairs by the entry gates, stewardess’s hurried to their positions getting ready to start the boarding process.
By MochiiAmara5 years ago in Confessions
I Had To Identify My Father's Dead Body
I Only Get Bad News From Home I moved to Florida a little over four years ago after a disastrous divorce and the realization that my family was not an anchor for me to stay in small town Kentucky. They weren't really there for me when I was close by so I figured moving almost 900 miles away wouldn't make much of a difference. You know what? It hasn't.
By Jessica Bugg5 years ago in Confessions
Mother Issues
her mom hated me, like my mom hated me. this hatred. just feed it, fed it, the more I overthought it. I fed it, I know. yet the yesterday’s I sat traumatized by being raised by a pyschopath woman spilled into my power. I had a strange relationship when it came to the word “mother.”
By Emily Serena5 years ago in Confessions
Ironing, Piano, Nuns, a Psychic, and Coming of Age. Top Story - September 2021.
I’ve had lots of turning points, but the one that marked my coming of age, I’d place that one when I was 18 and in my last year of high school. We moved a lot when I was a kid. My father was an engineer. He designed cranes, conveyors, and overhead highway says, mostly for small to medium sized companies all over southern Ontario. I usually felt like an outsider, but I don’t blame that on moving, more on being a misfit, and not trying hard enough to make friends.
By Paul A. Merkley5 years ago in Confessions
That Moment
I had a borrowed Beatle’s Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album, a curfew, and a six-mile walk ahead of me. Two sweaty hours later, I trudged up the gray cement steps that led to the freshly painted white front door and new deadbolt. I pulled out my house key and entered an empty house where cigarette smoke lingered underneath my mother’s floral perfume and bleach. As I shut and locked the door behind me, I could almost empathize with the inmate making the final walk on death row.
By D.L. Finn5 years ago in Confessions
