In a perfect world, people could simply communicate boundaries to one another without a fight. But humans usually aren't that chill. I've noticed a common theme in arguments. I've noticed this in arguments I've gotten into myself, arguments I've witnessed between mutual friends, and in all my long hours of binging reality television programs. A... Continue Reading →

I've written a lot about all the times people treated me badly. I want to tell a story about a time someone treated me really well. It's the man I'm married to now. I have absolutely no idea why this man loves me so much. No clue. We've had out problems and things haven't always... Continue Reading →

It's weird; being alive is weird. People end up as the antagonists in your story and without even meaning to you end up the antagonist in other peoples' stories. The way that I tried to make one last attempt to fix thing with Carly, my mom made one last attempt to fix things with me.... Continue Reading →

I worked at Home Depot for almost three years when Natasha started. She started as a cashier. Then she went to the service desk. Natasha was mean as hell, but so was I by that point. I don't know why I liked her so much. I did though. I wanted to be best best friends... Continue Reading →

I'd always had a bit of an aggressive streak. Pretty much always. I could pretend that's a symptom of all the trauma from my childhood, but I know it's not. Nothing really terrible happened until I was 5, a few months before I moved in with my mom and her boyfriend, and I had an... Continue Reading →

I'd say an important moment in my character arc was Home Depot. I started working at Home Depot as a cashier. There were very clear goals to meet. Get credit cards. Get Extended Protection Plans. Open every item and look inside of it. Ring everything up separately. I got credit cards. I got extended protection... Continue Reading →

In 6th grade, one morning, I walked into school and burst into tears. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened that morning. My mom had told me to go find her cowboy boots and she had so many shoes and they were all piled up and strewn about her room. I took too long to... Continue Reading →

One of the times that my grandparents intervened, I was nine. They had this idea that I was the one getting the worst of the physical abuse. I wasn't. It went Mary, me, Carly. Mary got the worst of it. But when my grandparents stepped in and took me away from my mom, she didn't... Continue Reading →