Ripples
“Who were your parents when you were growing up?” I knew she would ask at some point. “ You don’t know my parents. Last time you saw them, you were only a year old.” That was the end of the conversation, but I knew the topic would surface again. Someday, she would ask why we don’t see my parents anymore. My therapist suggested that I keep it simple. I had the lines rehearsed in my mind - “ My dad was unsafe and the rest of my family stopped liking us because we decided to protect you and your brother.” There are moments like these when I am reminded. As much as I try to block these realities out of my mind, the situation is still the same. Most days, I feel like I’ve moved on. But then it hits me like a freight train. Suddenly, I’m on the outside looking in. My confidence and self worth are nonexistent. I’m the bad guy. I can be strong for weeks - even months - and then something will take me under. A dream. A comment from our son. A question or comment from a fri