"Tears-pouring-down-my-face, couldn't-talk-couldn't-breathe kind of laughing. Screaming laughing. So hard that I was sobbing because I couldn't get it together."
"I could feel hot, salty tears coming down my face. I sat and cried silently... I was scrunching myself up against the wall as far as I could. All of a sudden, someone from behind us taps on the guy’s shoulder..."
"A few months into new motherhood, I learned the hard reality that mean girls still exist—they just become mommies too... But the good news is: we are allowed to excuse ourselves from the table. Isn’t that freeing? No permission slip necessary. Just get up."
"I’m not sick. I’m not undergoing trauma. I’m not physically hurting, and so I suck it up because there are real people going through real things and I’m not supposed to be sad. I’m supposed to be okay."
"My dad wouldn’t tell me anything over the phone or by text and insisted he would meet me at home... There’s no way this was happening to me and my family. There is no way this could be real. Well, in fact it was real."
"Clearly, she didn’t think she was allowed inside. Conviction crashed over my spirit. Having a child think she can’t come inside my home goes against everything I believe about hospitality."
