I've had a few days to think about the effects of absent parents. Some of you are familiar with my story, and for others, you aren’t. I didn’t grow up with my father. While I knew of him, I spent around two years of my childhood with him present. Before and after, there was silence. In my adulthood, I understand that there were factors completely out of my control. This post is not to discuss him, but to openly share what can happen when daughters are not loved. You see, that last sentence...

Come home. The impact of these words left me stunned. Reading those words across the screen made me hold my breath. It made me ask, Where have I been all this time? Who have I become? So, I sat with these words. The words that were more than words, but were a command, an observation, an invitation. For so many months (maybe even years), I spent time pouring and hoping for others, I believed partially for myself, but was it enough? Sitting in the moment made me realize that I, maybe you too,...

A few weeks ago, I woke up to a loud noise in my bedroom. It was pitch black and it scared me. I continued to hear boxes crashing and...