"I have no need for the past...I did not consider that the past might have a need for me"~Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

This picture is the perfect depiction of my mother.  Come rain or shine, joy or anguish, physically ill or emotionally scarred, my mother has always been there for me.  In this picture, she wanted so badly for all of her kids, as well as her first and only grandchild that the time, to have an amazing time at Universal Studios.  We were determined to have a time to remember, despite the downpour, which we did.  We all watched as my daughter, Maya, was amazed on the rides and we indulged in her every request.  It was a great day filled with family and laughter and a whole lot of love.

As I reflect on my childhood, this is what I remember about my mom: She was hardworking.  She loved to laugh.  She loved music.  She loved to plan trips and we took amazing annual camping trips that lasted10 full days-traveling all over the United States.  She loved to travel.  She...

As a child, I always had a WILD imagination. I loved to pretend play…anywhere I was. This included church services on Sundays and school days when I attended a Catholic school. I vividly remember strange stares from onlookers as I pretended to have an entire tea party while sitting in the pew, opening up imaginary cabinets to take down the tea kettle and cups. Setting up the imaginary table. Sipping on my imaginary cup. I was 8 years old at the time of this memory. I began getting in trouble for not paying attention in church. I began hearing from others, wether through judgmental stares or actual words, that this behavior and my wild imagination, was unacceptable. This is when I started to quiet my mind and creativity. This is when I began worrying about what others thought of me and listened to what they expected from me. I look at this 8 year old from my current Loving Wise Adult and imagine scooping her up to whisper “don’t ever let anyone tell you to dim your light”.

As I moved i...

There are so many signals throughout my life that were trying to let me know that I was slowly losing myself. The hurt and pain was a big signal. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the words or understand what exactly the hurt was trying to tell me. I only knew I felt empty and lost. I only knew that I was trying to soothe myself with any way possible and I was leaving a path of destruction in my wake. I felt horrible and shameful for all of the devastation throughout my life. It is very true that “hurt people hurt people”. I could see what I was doing in the moment, and couldn’t stop it. The need to feel comfort was more overwhelming than suffering the consequences. I was caught in a shame spiral.

I always turned to poetry and music for my inner expressions. At 16 years of age, my favorite poet was Edgar Allen Poe and my favorite bands included Marilyn Manson and Nine Inch Nails. I was bulimic and self-harming almost every single day. I was cutting classes to go use alcohol or drugs. I was...