At 3:47am a cry rings out in the darkness, waking me for the 4th time from sleep.
I pad sleepily into Parker’s room and hear the sound turn from a muffled cry to a soft whimper at my touch. I hear his frustration and I understand.
Sometimes when things go wrong you need to scream out into the darkness and have someone, anyone say they understand. Other times when words fail you need and the tears of frustration flow you just need a hand putting things, putting life back into order.
Parker turns to me in the darkness, his eyes wet from crying and when he sees my open arms new tears spring forth. One tear. Two. Three. A tidal wave springing from those deep blue eyes that will drown us all with its might.
A tidal wave.
Coming out is its own kind of tidal wave. An emotional roller coaster that has the potential to shape new friendships, or tear all others away. It can sweep up family and friends under its momentum and push them out to sea far from our reach.
I look back at my blog, I re-read the words I have written here and cannot help but be ashamed of the words I have put down for others to read. What a light I have cast on those who birthed me, raised me, loved me. I regret the choices.
And yet, was I not just relaying the events as they happened? The fights. The distance. Words spoken. But it was more. I wrote from hurt and so coloured those who do love me wrong.
Every decision creates a tidal force; one building upon another until the events and words have a life of their own that cannot be taken back.
I wrap my arms around Parker and feel the hurt and frustration springing up inside myself. And then my tears are flowing too. The tidal wave is growing. Destroying families as it comes.






I feel for your pain. Sometimes, speaking your truth creates rifts. I know, though, that it’s necessary for growth. Hang in there, hon. Here, we’re always rooting for you.
Thanks Ricki! I really appreciate it.
No, it doesn’t destroy, it cleans the slat to make room for new and different versions of life. Speaking from a place of hurt is ok, even if it seems to paint others in a different color because, truly, in those moments you are not defining them, you are defining your pain. There’s a difference.
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