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I’m sorry
For not being creative enough
Expressive enough
Loud enough
Enough
Just enough
Was I enough?
But I know it didn’t matter
Doesn’t matter
I will stay
And I will leave
I’ll find my way
Right between these piles & piles of scattered timelines and broken promises
I need you
I need to find you
Again
Like I did
All those years ago
All those tears ago
You
Are
Me
Me.
A guest post.
We’ve all grown up assuming that our relationships with our friends, family, and romantic partners will be smooth. If two people love and care about each other, things between them are bound to be good, right? Except, not really. Even when there is love, care, and respect in a relationship, things can go awry. Seemingly reasonable people can exhibit unhealthy patterns; and then there are abusive relationships which can cause a lifetime of trauma. As fundamental as relationships are to our well-being and happiness, they can also be messy, difficult, and painful. We all struggle with relationships more often than we’d like to admit.
A guest post.
There’s no answer to whether it is a good thing or a bad thing to be merely okay. On some days, that’s all we have. We have to make do. Okay is not necessarily a comfortable space. For me, it definitely isn’t. It is weird, platonic, a straight line.
A guest post.
Over the past year, I was working with women situationed in a fragile, perilous situation, one that people without privilege so often find themselves in. This was in a therapeutic context, & the first thing to hit me when I went in there, was that their ’needs’ could not be more removed from the so-called domain of mental health. This was a systemic issue, a societal failure, one that required patriarchy to be addressed and policies to be changed.
A guest post.
You know, there was this girl once.
I used to like her a lot, not in a romantic way, but I did have a deep love for her, and I like to think that she liked me too. We had all these great childhood memories together, memories of us dancing in the rain in the backyard, of our fair visits and doing all the scary rides and eating cotton candy later on, of reading books or playing in our den under the blanket, and of building our tree house and chasing away every intruder.
A guest post.
Before you start reading this, I want you to take a pen and paper and answer this - What does ‘home’ mean to you? Hold on to this question because this will remain the central point of this post.
