Beautiful Lies
Some kids dreamed about prom. I dreamed of escape.
Some kids dreamed about prom. I dreamed of escape.
This is how you end up in a dumpster over a coffee maker.
The paradox of cinema: we escape reality to better understand it.
I spent decades convinced I was "born to be fat". I wasn't.
Marvel wants your attention again. The question is: does it still deserve it?
Silence protects the wrong people.
"She got the worst of the abuse." When my husband finally said those words out loud, I felt both validated and furious. Mainly because I'd spent years denying what it really was.
They came with bags of clothes reeking of neglect and a belief that "home" meant holes in walls from fists and bullets—how do you compete with dysfunction when it's all a child has ever known?
After two and a half years, I have zero regets how this is ending. Meanwhile, the need for hypervigilance is finally ending, and I have no idea who I am without it.
Things are finally improving. I don't trust it.
People don't like it when you tell the truth about them.
We're not okay, but we're used to it.