daddyrecovery

Sometimes, I feel like I’m just waiting to have a life or really to feel like it is my own. When you are raised to please everyone, and assume your pleasure, in you, makes you selfish, self-absorbed, and a bad person; life kind of feels like a giant waiting room for the next person to…

As a woman, it is hard not to imagine a life that was NOT fear-based. Anxiety is born from how we find ourselves in situations we did not ask to be in, and forever believe that energy will follow us. Its is giving the past an eternal pen to write our future, and it SUCKS…

How to Avoid A MR. H. is a series that reflects on podcast episodes with a worksheet. Each spiritual homework matches a theme of its aligned episode, which, in this one, it is Uncle Martin. How To Know You Are With A Mr. H:  Respect  The Other Brother Reflections  Red Flag: If he is too…

My father was perverse. A predator indignant and undeserving of any humanity that came from me, but my mother was spiritual, cultural and had a faith that moved her to believe your father… is your father, even if he is a failure. Thus, when I think of forgiveness I do not think of my dad.…

Women talk about sex, and we enjoy it, if a man is good. the keyword IF. For a lot of us, we could not explain the rising obsession misogynistic men had with women becoming loose: both sexually and economically. For The Producer, a man who could barely bust a nut unless it was filled with…

Being able to call my dad a piece of shit, has been surprisingly liberating, and not in this vindictive kind of way. It feels cathartic, powerful, and I hope in time totally relieving over the fact that he was, actually,. In essence, I am giving myself the freedom to call my father a horrible human…

My father gaslit me so much, I cannot even go pass a smokers´ sections anymore. I, literally, should tattoo flammable on my ass. For my father, gaslighting was the Reverse-Uno of psychological abuse and one of his favorite tools. You could not tell him he was bad, if anything, he was just flawed or lost,…

To my dad, pity was love, which is why he loved it when people pitied… it meant they cared and also forgot to ask him if it was reciprocal. Yet, I found the quality annoying on him. As we walked through the Basilica, he proceeded to talk about these mysterious, suicide attempts without mentioning who,…

There I was, happy to be on my my first set, completely manifested by my talent and determined positivity. Who cares that Adobe charged me 20 dollars for the app, which I do not own? I will fight for my reimbursement later. I could care less that I have no money to eat or that…

A Poem