To understand my story, you must know a bit of my mom’s. Sherry, my mom, was only 16 when she had me, and while my father continued

“We have to move, baby,” my mom’s voice was tense. “Get packing.” I did as I was told; it was routine...

My parents broke up when I was still little, and my mom remarried soon after. Our home was full of outbursts of rage from my mom who was...

There are times in life when we must choose whether we hold on to hate, or forgive and forget. Holding on to hate is the more common...