Swimming to shore.
I have a story to tell.
I have a story to tell. It is not a pretty story and I do not know if it ends well, but it has to be told and it is pooling up and spilling over the edges onto this page. I’ve been fighting this. The reason it’s been hard to talk about it is rooted…
The picket fence was a prison. And I can’t be quiet anymore.
“Most of our platitudes notwithstanding, self-deception remains the most difficult deception. The tricks that work on others count for nothing in that very well-lit back alley where one keeps assignation with oneself: no winning smiles will do here, no prettily drawn lists of good intentions.” -Joan Didion I married a man who, as it turned…
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No More Platitudes 