On Being a Woman Who Was Left: Cultivating Love in the Hollowed Out Spaces of My Heart
Several years ago my five year old cousin walked into the living room and asked me why I was crying.
I remember things from long ago
Several years ago my five year old cousin walked into the living room and asked me why I was crying.
I sat in the middle seat of the plane headed back to Western Canada. I was feeling very much like
I used to measure my level of healing by the level of detachment I could tell a piece of my