I’ve had many titles, daughter, sister, student, wife, mother, and writer. But the one title that has made the largest impact on my life I keep hidden. I don’t know whether it’s in shame or because on some level I refuse to believe it myself. I am the wife of an alcoholic.
“Sometimes, you have to turn around, give a little smile, throw the match and burn that bridge.”
Today is a good day. Yesterday, I felt like I was going to die.
I had a dream last night, and you were with me. I was in my wedding dress. You took my hand, and we had a dance, something fathers and daughters do every day at weddings all over the world.
I have often looked at people and wondered, “what makes them so special?”
I was starting to have that “feeling” again. It had come before this in little waves and slow trickles.
I’m sure I’m not the only one who has the same story, the same tale of heartbreak and woe associated with Valentine’s Day.
I can’t remember the last time I felt normal.
I’m not girly enough.
I started writing this blog anonymously for two reasons, the first being that I wanted to prove a point to my husband and secondly, having that anonymity allowed me to be a bit franker than maybe I would have been.