Asking someone whose home base is survival what their dream life is like can be like asking a drowning person what they would like for lunch.

Narrating a book you’ve written is an amazing and rewarding experience, but it does come with challenges.

I first drove from Massachusetts to California to be a sophomore at Occidental College when I was twenty-one.

“You can,” Kathy snapped.

It occurred today that I keep leaving places, people, and things because some part of me is trying to figure out how to get goodbye right.

Out in the world when I tell someone I’m adopted and they tell me I must be grateful, something else entirely happens. It’s like my cells are bumper cars and they start crashing into each other.

This work was a direct challenge to how I saw myself in the world. I believed the stories I told myself.

What if we are biologically programmed not to feel gratitude in some situations?

It occurred to me today as I was packing that it’s not so much about chasing a dream as being it.

My head does not love to go down the road of, “What was it like for my daughter to be raised with someone who has CPTSD and an anxious-avoidant attachment style” because it feels like I’m banging said head against a wall.

I don’t know what to tell you, but I’m going to try.

Sharing of yourself can be so complicated when you don’t have a sense of what the rules are.