Walls Break Down, the Sun Comes In

| This is the 510th story of Our Life Logs | “I love you,” he says as I look into the honey pots he calls eyes. I can’t control the smile stretching across my face; for the first time in my life, I’m genuinely in love with someone. In this moment, I find myself looking back on a road that almost broke me and amazed that … Continue reading Walls Break Down, the Sun Comes In

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To Return to Myself

| This is the 461st story of Our Life Logs | As a little girl born in 2001, I didn’t grow up knowing anything but my family’s small farm in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, the two horses we had and the beef cattle. I can still remember how it felt like to wake up to animal noises, to play in the creek, my feet all muddy and wet. I … Continue reading To Return to Myself

The Anatomy of a Warrior

| This is the 460th story of Our Life Logs | Warriors carry an extra appendage while preparing for combat. They choose what will heighten their power when they meet adversity. They master the appendage. They set out to conquer. For me, that extra appendage is, was, and will always be my power wheelchair. My wheels are a chariot to freedom rather than a temporary crutch to … Continue reading The Anatomy of a Warrior

At the Start of My Journey

| This is the 448th story of Our Life Logs | Growing up in Ozone Park in the New York borough of Queens in the 1980s was not easy for me. My childhood was not sweet, to say the least. Instead of love and security, it was filled with mockery and humiliation. I mean, my parents gave us kids—my twin sister, older brother, and me—basic things like … Continue reading At the Start of My Journey

The Street Artist

| This is the 386th story of Our Life Logs | I was born in Sighthill, Glasgow, in 1983. I grew up on a large council estate with high-rise flats as far as the eye could see. It was full of crime, poverty, and drug addicts. I remember playing in the park as a child and there would be needles scattered like leaves. Buildings were often graffitied … Continue reading The Street Artist

Exhale and Recover 

| This is the 379th story of Our Life Logs | I grew up in the 1990s in Belfast, Northern Ireland, during the times of “The Troubles.” If you didn’t know, The Troubles refer to a nasty civil dispute that spanned over 30 years between the British and Irish in the country over religious and nationalistic differences. Naturally, this made Northern Ireland a dangerous place to grow … Continue reading Exhale and Recover 

An Innate Survival

| This is the 349th story of Our Life Logs |I grew up in a small Italian neighborhood in the North End of Bridgeport, Connecticut, alongside my younger sister. Growing up in the 1980s, we spent our days running off with neighborhood friends, only returning home when the hum of the streetlights came on.If I wasn’t playing with friends, I was with my grandparents who lived … Continue reading An Innate Survival