The generational curse needs to be broken. Be direct. Be clear. Be done with it. — My mother had a hard time with the word “no.” She couldn’t say it. And, she taught me to do the same: “Be a yes girl and always smile.” No matter how or what she felt, “no” was dirty, ugly, unbecoming, and definitely not what a submissive wife or good…

It’s about control of women and nothing else. — “I drove 6 hours and 58 minutes. I got here at 8:55 a.m. this morning. So I have not ate [sic]; we can’t bring in anything to drink. My boyfriend’s in the car asleep.” These are the words of M. …

Grieving is messy. Such is the human condition. — My uncle died on Christmas day, 12/25/21. Even though he was in hospice, his death feels unexpected. Let me explain. My uncle was the last of his generation in my family and my longest living relative. He lived ninety-six mostly good years, especially here in the U.S. A quiet but…

Shame stops you from writing and kills creativity. Nail it shut. — The deck needs another coat of oil. The door and wall trim need painting. The flooring guys are not respecting my boundaries, and it sounds like the kitchen is being destroyed with a sledgehammer. I still can’t walk normally (I pulled a muscle chasing a cat, of all things). The…

Women aren’t stupid. How about answering the question asked instead of assuming? — Dear Adam-Know-It-All, I know your name is not Adam, but you are like an “Adam” — a person who I don’t know from a hole in the wall who had the audacity to give me advice when I didn’t ask for it. When I asked the social media world —…

Thoughts on suffering and life’s meaning. — The sunflowers are dying. My squash plants have powdery mildew, and their leaves have turned brown. The tomato plants are dying, too. The flowers in my organic garden are at the end of their life span here in the Rockies where I live. Leaves have changed colors. They’ve turned into…

It’s time for someone who survived a high-risk pregnancy to educate those who don’t get it. — “Please step back.” The anesthesiologist stretched his arm pushing back my ex-husband from taking another picture of my open womb. At 38 weeks, I went into premature labor, was rushed to the hospital, and underwent an emergency cesarean. Awake and frozen from my shoulders down, I watched the eyes of…

Can we all just be kind now… at least try? — Dear Rude Dude on Nextdoor, Do you like the lamps you grabbed from my front porch without as much as a “thanks?” Do they match your bedroom or your office? Or, did you stick them in the pile of trash and beer in your basement? (I always wonder if I…

Accepting a toxic childhood and learning to let it go. — Dear Mom, I’ve been dreading writing this letter to you. Sometimes just thinking about you makes me anxious, sad, or both, or hell, sometimes I don’t know what I feel. Suffice to say, I wish you had taken better care of yourself so you would not have yelled at me…