The legacy of psychological abuse — My little sister always said she loved my mother’s eyes: a shade of blue-grey unique to a certain Ukrainian Jewish population. Of course, we didn’t know that until we grew up and spit into a test tube. Genetics is a game of Russian Roulette if there ever was one. …

Words are heavy — When I moved my home office back to work, I bought flower-shape post-its as a gift for myself. A sweet, yellow, and aqua distraction from the real reason I was scared to spend too much time in the house. Fake fears and Ignored tears and Images seared into My memory. …

I celebrate small victories — They say that youth is wasted on the young…so I’m living. My skin drinks the summer sun and my joints are still forgiving. I needed an answer so I took a chance; needed to see if the man would take a chance on me. Reebok man, different from his brother…

Some things remain unchanged — Little boys riding little bicycles…such a relief to see kids acting like kids. I catch the words before they come flying out of my mouth: this is a different generation where parents don’t look kindly on neighbors reprimanding other people’s kids. I was raised differently…but different doesn’t always mean better…

We all need community — My world is never completely silent: I intentionally designed it that way. Now that I have relative control over my home and surrounding environment, I choose a blanket of quiet, reassuring sound to wrap around my troubled soul. I listen to birds and Waterfalls and Babbling brooks and Open ocean…

She swears it happened overnight — What do you want to be when you grow up? Some children know, from the get-go, and their answer never changes. I was not one of those children. I swore up and down that I was going to be a farmer…that is, until I was enamored with outer space and…

He was the one at that moment — No roses in the garden in November, but that didn’t matter to me. In upstate New York, snow is fair game after September comes to an end, or at least it seems that way. Cold air, and if I remember correctly, it was drizzling, but I am accustomed to, if…

Jesus, forever and always…but the church is tearing me apart — My mother is a PK — a pastor’s kid. For the majority of her childhood and teenage years, everything was Lutheran, from the congregation right down to the coffee. But as an adult, free to make her own decisions, my mom walked away from the Lutheran church…and eventually, from Christ. …

You are the love that we’re missing — We’ve got the justice down to a science, Lord, but we are missing the heart of it all. We cling to the letter of the law. We are missing the entire point of your precepts. Have mercy, Lord Jesus. Proximity to whiteness is far too great a factor in convictions…