I tried, really I tried to pull away from you, Los Angeles… Just like at 15 when I would scream...
How come the people I love most trigger me to behave so bad? What oh-so-sensitive buttons are these relationships pushing?
I have yet to find an answer. But I want to try.
This is very hard to have to write. But I do feel like I have to. Even though it’s making me physically ill to do so. Even though you already know how the story ends.
Maybe you're breaking down because you're breaking open because there's a new you inside that's shrieking to come out.
I miss the days when friends and family members truly opened up about their insecurities, failures, and deep thoughts. Yes, you're adults now, but you can still share your souls.
No one can claim a monopoly on the truth.
I miss the Land. The air. The views. The people. So yes, the trip was special. But there's more.
When I publish a post, I have an adventure, a game, and an OCD wonderland.
Rivka reflects on the wisdom she learned from "Mommy Camp", a long summer vacation at home with her children.
There is no path. The path is many paths. It is an empty field. It is an entire twelve lane highway.