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

A Promise Worth Keeping

| This is the 446th story of Our Life Logs | I was born with a rare genetic disorder that wasn’t properly diagnosed until I was two years old. The doctors discovered I was suffering from scoliosis kyphosis. I could walk, but I had a very prominent rib hump that made sitting in a chair nearly impossible. My life has been a mixture of blessings and curses depending … Continue reading A Promise Worth Keeping

Standing Up

| This is the 439th story of Our Life Logs | “We don’t need you anymore.” The words slipped out of my supervisors’ mouth and fell onto the desk in front of me. There were no emotions behind them, no guilt, no sympathy—just a hollow phrase passively tossed my way as they multi-tasked behind their over-sized desk. I received no further explanation, just a request to pack … Continue reading Standing Up

You’ll Understand When You’re Older

| This is the 437th story of Our Life Logs | “You’ll understand when you’re older.”  It’s a phrase that we have all heard growing up. Sometimes that was true. We would grow up, and things from our childhood would start making sense. But some things are always going to be beyond our comprehension; there will be some memories that we will look back on in 10, … Continue reading You’ll Understand When You’re Older

The Reconstruction of My Life

| This is the 432nd story of Our Life Logs | In life, we play various roles, and like the legs of a stool, those roles support us. They are the indication of our existence. Each role is as important to the structure’s stability as the other. When one of them disappears, it threatens the whole system, and in my case, my entire being. I was forced … Continue reading The Reconstruction of My Life

There Is Life After Opioids

| This is the 426th story of Our Life Logs | I woke to the sound of a nearby train as it whooshed by. I groaned as I stretched my legs out on the compact, double seat of a CTA train I’d chosen for refuge the night before. It wasn’t comfy, but it beat Chicago’s cold and grimy streets. Pain shot through my limbs as I shifted, … Continue reading There Is Life After Opioids

Leaving Hate Behind

| This is the 423rd story of Our Life Logs | So, what do you want to know? I was born in 1982, grew up in and around Raleigh, North Carolina, and was raised by a mother who lived and breathed drugs. Our home wasn’t stable. We moved more times than I’d like to remember. My siblings and I accompanied our mother to a lot of clubs … Continue reading Leaving Hate Behind

Continue reading Leaving Hate Behind