I love my parents, but I don't like them. I don't respect them. I don't trust them.This is not about anger. I am angry, but that is secondary.
My parents had planned on getting an abortion with my little sister because she was the third daughter conceived and my grandparents grieved over this.
I realized this is what I love most... tuning into the tucked-away things that are actually often the most real things in the room.