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We were still in the throes of covid, so not a great time. Given our history, it was understandable I was trepidatious. I mentioned going away somewhere, together. Needless to say, that did not go over well. His expression was grim as he responded, “what’s changed?” I faltered before mumbling something to the effect of

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Summer turned into fall and fall into winter. The feeling was always there, persistently and relentlessly hanging over me. I had never experienced anything like it. Try as I might, I could not get out from under it. I mean, I was functional, but it was as if all the joy had been sapped out

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It seems there are three types of losses we experience in life – heartbreak, a loss of attachment and a loss of detachment, each with its own lesson [1]. That fateful summer I endured all three. My therapist calls them my trifecta. Heartbreak is when you lose someone you love. It is a loss that

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It took one word from my therapist for my life to be altered irrevocably. “I wasn’t neglected,” I protested, “I had a good childhood.” That night, however, I googled the word neglect. Unbeknownst to me, there is more than one type. In addition to physical neglect, there is a less obvious, definitely more insidious, cousin

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