PTSD, an improper diagnosis because post is past and this is our present

preamble: discovering breasts under my nightgown was one of the most traumatic experiences of my childhood. from that very moment i was trapped in a world with a constant bombardment of sexual attention so aggression i simply could not breathe. they no longer saw me. the me, i had been. the somersaulting-head-standing-singing-and-climbing-trees-daydreaming me was lost. overnight, i had become flesh…

the word is survival

my mother is a survivor. she is an authentically amazing person. to have her claim you as her own is to be blessed and to never know what it is like to be completely alone in this world. she will feed you. she will clothe you. she will give you shelter and make sure you…