on being an orphan

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my mother rewrote history until she was safe and i was gone. when i saw her using my brothers kids (my nieces & her grandchildren) as pawns with me, keeping me distant, she flatly refused to go to therapy with me.

my family’s disownment was painful, still stings. but it also opened doors i never knew existed. doors inside of myself, and doors around the world. i've found my tiny scattered chosen family — people who support and celebrate me.  i'm sharing myself with the world, without reservation. i'm filling up my world with those who are honest and generous out of love, not out of their own ego trying to control the people around them.

the pain and grief from the disownment were raw, and traumatic. the loss still hurts, and i process the grief as needed. things come up and hurt sometimes, but it happens and it’s something we learn to deal with. but i'm also celebrating my strength and the exciting future unfolding. it’s a chance to create the life i've always wanted and deserved. the best is yet to come.


you can see that while i have my moods, im pretty okay with life and myself. i am fucking far from perfect, and i try not to forget that, but i also accept me and where i am. always reinventing and trying to do better - i’m a masterpiece in progress… a magnum opus with lil training wheels. 😀


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