The idea for a photoshoot on the property I was raised came on the heels of a long season of sorting through confusing and painful childhood memories that had been solidly recorded in my soul.  My interpretations of events that unfolded in my young life led to agreements I formed with myself and to drawn conclusions that prevented more pain in my childhood, yet led to chaos in my adult life.  A short list of these agreements included mandates to stay vigilant as the world felt unsafe, to cater to the needs of others so I wouldn’t be rejected or abandoned, and never to trust myself.  This, in part, was due to a lack of a secure attachment or a rupture in a secure attachment with one or both of my caregivers.

The stories that will unfold over the next few weeks are not about how parents and caregivers fail children.  They will be stories that may provide context for your experiences as a child, inspire you to consider the ways you show up for the children in your life, and redeem some of the pain or regrets you may carry.  This all will be safely wrapped in my stories, which I hope will feel like a gift to you.

“If you knew my family, you would understand.” I laughed out loud when I read the words stenciled on a wooden plaque, walked it to the cash register, and promptly hung it in my therapy office. Truer words may have never been penned.

Addressing the discontent in your relationship is a vote for integrity and love for yourself and your relationship.

“This is what love does.”

I hesitate to start with that phrase. Some might not agree that what we did was love. Others may think that we waited too long. All I know is that sometimes life and love can be described as a shade of murky gray rather than a crisp black or white.

Our love story didn’t exactly go as planned.

Sometimes we just need to know we are seen.