The Effects of Divorce on Children
How My Parents’ Divorce Turned Me Into Jason Bourne The effects of divorce on children often makes them into fantastic spies. My parents divorced
How My Parents’ Divorce Turned Me Into Jason Bourne The effects of divorce on children often makes them into fantastic spies. My parents divorced
This Story Is in Honor of National Grandparents Day & LBGT Rights In 1988 at the height of the AIDs epidemic and near-hysterical homophobia,
“You can’t just run off to Sri Lanka, spending your days filming a documentary on the knitwear sweat factories while visiting opium dens in the evening.”
“As we sat together in silence, I called each of your names, and in the quiet of that room, where the tension was still thick with not knowing, I wanted to say your names over and over again.”
“I’d also leave my aged Beauty Rest mattress. A forensics team would find remnants of the married actor who showed up to rehearse a scene from “Two For the See-Saw” going commando under his sweats …
What happened in the hot tub stays in the hot tub. Let’s just say I did not lose my virginity there, but the Kraken had been unleashed …
While going through my divorce, my therapist said to me “if he was like this while you were married, why do you expect him to be different now?” …
“Pornography is affecting young boys’ brains, turning them into misogynistic aggressors who might objectify and assault girls in the course of what they consider to be ‘normal’ sexual practices.”
These are the things I remember about the Gone Boy. Hazel eyes. Slippery black hair. Fluidity of motion. Chipped front teeth. Velvety skin. A goofy laugh. A whipsmart brain …
“When I was pregnant, I was living in Guatemala city, carrying a glock 9mm (with a 32 round magazine) in my purse …
HuffPo 50 took photographs of 11 women ranging in age from 48-67 in their lingerie then asked them how do they feel sexy today as opposed to in their twenties …
“I felt a small lump in my breast in February 2014. When I saw my oncologist and all the results were in, I was told that I had Stage-4 metastatic breast cancer …
“Then something kind of crazy happened. A friend asked me if I’d be willing to volunteer with her in Syrian refugee camps on the island of Lesvos in Greece …
“The other night, I caught you putting your boobs on the table.” “What?” (She saw that?) …
“Henry and I had been married for 10 years when I made him meet me for a blind date …
“Okay, I told Henry he could write his part of the letter, because there was a good chance I’d run amuck …
Excerpt: “Things get real when I’m handed the three-year-old son of the pregnant woman …
“But Sunni and Shia death squads began targeting Iraqis working for the coalition …
“The men, ages 20 to 25, were weak from three days without food and water, were soaked to the skin from a treacherous sea crossing from Turkey …
My father cursed me. I was departing to volunteer and gather stories in Syrian refugee camps in Lesvos, Greece …
“I have my own story. One I’ve replayed in my head when dread lodges in my body while I watch the scenes of horror in Paris unfold on TV …
I don’t know what’s happening, but a hole opens in my chest. It’s a vortex that everything dark and broken gets sucked down into …
I abandon my body completely, as if it were a one-legged stepchild, by saying, “You’re right. I do need to lose 3, 5, 10 pounds. I’ll do it soon.”
When I was a student abroad in 1986, I suffered an attempted rape. I was fortunate, after a protracted struggle, to escape my attacker. Intellectually, I understood that he had absolutely no right to do what he did to me …
“Mom, how old do I need to be before I can have sex?” Oh, crap. I am suddenly thrust into a very important conversation with the question-asker, my 9-year old daughter, that I WAS NOT expecting.
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