Photo credit: AuthentiK
Fitting in vs. Standing Out
I was not one of the popular kids. I didn’t fit the mold. I just did my own thing. Nothing crazy. I just liked wearing bold colors, walked up to…
For Daughters of Trauma Moms
Mother's Day is this weekend and it's going to hurt like a bitch. I want to send this one out to all the daughters whose mothers left them with scars…
Disparity
I want to tastethe rain on my tongue but the rainhas no flavor. I don't have to have Covid to know that I'm sick. Once, I accepted illness, wore itlike…
Adalynn
This is the poem I wrote for my new baby cousin while processing my emotional connections to family. To read the backstory click here! It’s the curve of your ear,an…
"Snowy House with Lights" by Kelly Hanwright
Essence
The hush of snow insulatingour little corner of the globe; The rustle of guinea pig feet jumpingaround, digging tunnels in their hay; The deep, contented breathing of my lion-dogsleeping in…
How to Enjoy the Holidays Again
Like many of my sisters with c-ptsd, I came to hate the holidays. Especially "The Holidays" - the ones at the end of the year when families are supposed to…
"Light Over Dark Valley" by Kelly Hanwright
On not hurting
Once upon a time, I heard a story about a boy who promised himself he wouldn't cry anymore. And he didn't. He said he did this when he was about…
My Uncle’s Walkman
It came in the mail for my birthday one year - must have been 10, 11, or 12. Those years are a blur and I have no specific memories I…
SunBolt by Kelly Hanwright
…damn straight, I see a therapist
As discussed in last week’s post, yes, I see a therapist. The poem I shared on that topic last week is included in the “Regeneration” section of The Locust Years.…
LightFeathers by Kelly Hanwright
Yes, I see a therapist
My Therapist First time I walked into a therapy office, I was all clammy hands and so many butterflies I could feel thembumping into each other. In my house, therapists…