The Revolutionary Self-Love of Seeing My Parents As People, Not Perpetrators

I saw a Facebook post about the need to forgive parents for the traumas they caused their children. It hit me hard, both as an adult from a traumatic childhood and as a mother who could never imagine raising children the way my parents raised me. It has lingered in the back of my mind; so, since the topic hit me like a ton of bricks when I saw it, I wanted to preserve it here, with a snippet of my own journey through healing parental trauma.

Learning to see my parents as people—allowing them to transition from partial perpetrators of my trauma to traumatized people in their own right—was a long, difficult process. Each new revelation of my childhood held me down and shoved me backward even as character development and maturity adjusted my outlook, allowing me to keep going.

My parents were truly horrible; they were neglectful, dishonest, resentful, emotionally unavailable. They divorced, then married partners who were violent and mentally unstable. Instead of protecting me (and my siblings), they allowed us to see and experience things no child ever should. They put themselves first in everything, even when they could’ve done better.

For years, I thought it was just me, just a grown kid seeing things through a self-centered, perhaps naive lens. But then I found myself sitting in trauma therapy, recounting my story. I’ll never forget the expression on my therapist's face; she sat back in her chair, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. All she could say was, “Oh, wow.” She was a trauma specialist. And I had enough to surprise her. To be honest, that surprised me.

But being heard changed everything. It wasn’t just validation; it was the beginning of letting go of anger and emotional pain. It was a step toward healing I didn't even hope was possible anymore, and in that healing, I found grace to look at my parents in new ways. Not just parent to child, but human to human, and the more I learned about where they came from and explored the traumas they experienced, the more I felt sorry for them. They didn’t have it as bad as I did, but they had their own pain—and they lived in a different time, one with very little space for healing or acceptance of the search for mental wellness.

They never had the tools to break free of those emotional chains, or the capacity to see how their pain poured over my brothers and I like poison. Understanding didn’t erase what they did, but it gave me compassion—not just for them, but for myself. That wild anger? That bitter, clinging resentment? Symptoms of a trauma cycle that began long before my brothers and I were born. And I decided it would stop with me.

As a mother, this has a much deeper meaning; every moment of my life, I'm stretching against the internal pressure, armored up and fighting to give my children a better life than I had. One where we talk openly about trauma and mental wellness, not because it's some badge of honor, but because you can't clean up a mess in the dark. I want my daughters to feel safe, seen, and supported. To know they're not alone in their struggles. I want to protect them from the things I experienced, and I want them to understand that it's okay to be vulnerable, because healing starts with acknowledgment.

I won’t pretend I’ve always succeeded. I’ve made mistakes, and I’ve had moments where my past crept into my parenting. But I’ve been honest with my daughters about my challenges; I’ve shared my story, not to seek pity or attention but to plant the seeds of a better cycle, where emotional wellness and understanding take precedence over silence and shame.

It's more than forgiving my parents for the mess they made of my past. It’s taking responsibility for my present, and being intentional about how I shape the future for my children. It’s about breaking the cycle of trauma and creating a new legacy—one where love, compassion, and openness are the foundation. The cycle stops here. Not just for me, but for the next generation.

This week was a bit of a draw on the writing front. I hate that I didn't finish SFFF Chapter 17, but I loved playing around with a transcript for the upcoming trial in the final chapters of this novel. Given my personal background, I'm sure it's no surprise that my favorite go-to binge-watch is Law& Order: SVU, but watching TV (or reading fiction) is only the upper crust of what really goes down in a courtroom.

Part of why I didn't hit my writing goal this week (finishing that chapter) is that I spent some time digging into the real-life laws that govern cases like the one portrayed in the Freedom Series, which helped me dig deeper into Christine's mind and heart. I feel more ready to tackle the weight of writing this portion of the story now, armed with realism and the emotional depth Christine deserves. I'm so ready to see this in reader's hands!

In the meantime, we're twenty-nine weeks away from the release of the second-edition FIGHTING FOR FREEDOM! I hope to have everything set up for pre-orders by the end of this month, I'm brainstorming ideas for a release-day event, and if I ever find a spare moment, I'd love to design some merch. If I can get it all done, what would y'all like to see?

Feel free to drop your suggestions in the comments, and until next week's update...

Beautiful Uncertainty: Finding Strength in the Unknown

Y'all, this week was rough. I was on the third (or fourth?) straight week of SFFF Chapter 16, and beginning to feel the pressure of the schedule I've set for myself. The thing is, the schedule isn't the problem; it's perfectly doable, even for a single mom with complex PTSD. The real problem is that sometimes, pesky life stuff just gets in the way, and I get overwhelmed just like anybody else.

So I had to tweak it a little. I spent more time resting when I needed to. It's important to me to show up as a writer, because dreams don't chase themselves...but it's also important to me to show up as a mom, as a Christian, and as my own best friend. When I "should have" been writing or "could have" been cleaning the house, instead I made a point not to kick myself while I binge-watched Law & Order: SVU. Even on the hardest days, I have tons to be grateful for, and minding my perspective made a huge difference toward keeping that time restful and refreshing.

And hey, I guess it paid off, because a load of great things happened this week:

I'm proud to say I've finally finished SFFF Chapter 16, which means we're only six chapters away from the end of STILL FIGHTING FOR FREEDOM! Those first fifteen chapters have been through the first round of proofing and editing, and they're currently gathered together in the main novel file, awaiting completion of the book - after which, we begin the next round of edits. Crazy bit of random trivia? That file is weighing it at just under ninety-four thousand words!

We're thirty weeks away from the release of the second edition FIGHTING FOR FREEDOM, and I'm planning to spend part of the coming week ironing out some kinks in the pre-order process. In the meantime, feel free to check out (and maybe share?) this TikTok, which includes the gorgeous FFF book cover and a little write-up of what new readers can expect from this first part of Christine's journey as she learns to...

Q4 2024: Setting Intentional Goals

This week was just as busy as the last few have been, but for different reasons. My oldest daughter spent a few nights with us early in the week, which was great because we had some time to catch up and chat a little, even if she is a beautiful little distraction. After that, the youngest daughter and I both came down with a bug that sidelined us for a couple of days; we even missed church on Wednesday night, but the rest did us both some good. We spent a little time laying around, healing and rehydrating, and by the time we were better it was Friday, which I had set aside for a shopping date with my spiritual mom.

I did get some writing time squeezed in, but first...

I've been thinking a lot this week about my goals as a writer, and some of my downtime was spent working on making those goals a little more concrete. So while I was stuck in bed, I examined my platform numbers, book sale stats, and current progress and trajectory, then turned that information into goals for the rest of the year.

Those of you who have been with me for a while might remember a few years ago, when I used to share my quarterly goals for growth, both in my writing life and my personal life. The problem with those goals (and the reason I eventually stopped posting them) was that I had a habit of expecting way too much from myself, so I'm keeping it simple this time around and limiting myself to five goals for the upcoming fourth quarter of the year.

If you'd like to see how my goals play out for this quarter, make sure you follow me on Instagram; I'll be checking off goals as they're accomplished, and will update and share the above image to my stories!

We're now thirty-one weeks away from the release of the second edition FIGHTING FOR FREEDOM, and while the writing and editing are pretty much complete, I'm still waiting for feedback from one beta reader before sending this book to the last person who will see it before the files are totally finalized. There are a few kinks to work out with one of my distributors as well, and I hope to have that settled in time to set up an option to preorder the book; if it all works out the way I want it to, there will be a little discount for those who pick the book up before release day.

This was my third week in a row working on chapter 16 of STILL FIGHTING FOR FREEDOM, but I finally love how it's looking and I'm looking forward to finishing this chapter and digging into the next part of the story. Malachi Matthews is long overdue for some justice, and I'm excited to see Christine grow through the rest of this book as she finally comes face-to-face with the husband who abused her.

Six chapters to go, and then that's a wrap on Christine's story!

As I work toward finishing this chapter, this book, and this year, I would also love to hear from you. What goals or dreams are you working toward? Share your thoughts in the comments below, and until next week...

Balancing Act: Behind the Scenes of a Single Mom Building A Career

Wow, y'all. The last few weeks in my life have been hectic. If you've followed me or my content for long, you know I'm a single mom - and the effort to manage the work-life balance between parenting and career isn't always easy, which is why I put so much focus on personal growth and self-care tips.

I love when life is easy and the balance all but maintains itself, and I love when life things are quiet enough to allow me to focus on writing, but it just doesn't always work that way and this past few weeks, I have to say...well, life took over. My youngest daughter and I had a simultaneous storm of doctor's appointments, my spiritual dad had open-heart surgery, one of my mentors had a foot surgery, a friend of mine had a personal issue she needed support and advocacy through, and we had a minor family accident that resulted in emergency surgery. Oh, and one of my bonus babies got married! 

But wait...

• "What's a bonus baby?"
• "Is that like, a step-kid or something?"

So, storytime: when my family first started with our church, it didn't take long before I felt led to step into leading a student group - and I was putting up some powerful resistance. Like, "No way, God. You got the wrong girl. I literally can't even."

But God doesn't really argue, he just keeps nudging. For a whole year, my oldest daughter called me Jonah because she just thought I wasn't bold enough or interested enough to step up - which I guess is fair, since I don't generally like or relate to kids. You know, they're all mess and snot and slang and stinky armpits...I'm not a fan. But it all finally came out one day when I told my daughter it's not really a Jonah thing, it's a Moses thing. Spiritual leadership is a huge responsibility, and my truckload of mom-guilt testifies pretty loudly about my lack of qualifications.

Kind of like Moses standing in front of the burning bush trying to tell God he couldn't go speak to Pharaoh. But that story ended with God throwing up his proverbial hands in frustration and saying, "Fine, you sissy. Take your brother."

Not exactly, but whatever, you get the point.

So over the course of that push year with God, he didn't send my brother, but he filled my life with kids. My daughter brought all her friends home. They rode in my car, slept in my house, ate all my groceries. Once they were driving, they'd show up at all hours. And I fell in love with them. With their perspectives and the ways they bloomed right in front of me, leaving childhoods behind to embrace adulting with all the worry and the insecurity and yes, the varying levels of success.

One of them used to sneak into my room at night while my daughter was sleeping, and she'd lay in my bed and whisper stories of her childhood, tales of her experiences. She'd confess her thoughts in the dark, her little face close on the pillow next to mine. And then, when she'd unloaded her heart, she'd say, "Okay, I'm gonna go to bed now," and she'd make her way back to my daughter's room for the night.

Last weekend she got married. I cried all day long, in fits and starts. I cried as she panicked because she thought she was taking too long to get ready. I cried when she was laced into her wedding gown. When she got her hair curled and her make-up done. When she stepped into the church doorway in her finery and I watched her new husband fight for control of his emotions.

Actually, I ended up being so busy just being there, I hardly took any photos!

But since life is all about rolling with the punches and I tell people all the time to give themselves grace, here's a little of the grace I'm giving myself these days. I'm not as caught up as I'd like to be, but I'm happier than I've been in years, and there's still amazing progress happening on all fronts.

STILL FIGHTING FOR FREEDOM is coming along a little slower than I had hoped, but it's coming. Chapter sixteen is nearly finished, which means there are only a few chapters left before this book is ready for editing!

We're thirty-two weeks away from the second edition release of FIGHTING FOR FREEDOM, and I've been busily creating promotional materials to use in the lead-up to release day. There's a book trailer, a little promo reel, some graphics for sharing and/or printing...and here I am sitting on all of them because it's too early to let them go. Let me tell y'all, this is an absolute exercise in patience for me, but I hope it'll all be worth it when this book goes into the hands of readers who need the hope in Christine's story.

In the meantime, I sat in with a local book club this week to talk about another of my books, which was an absolute blast! I had the chance to answer questions about the characters, the motivation behind the story, what it was like to write that story, and the personal parts of myself that were included in it. The ladies of the book club chose another novel of mine for their February read, and when they invited me back to talk about that one too, it got me thinking about next year...

What do y'all think about a release party of some kind for when FIGHTING FOR FREEDOM goes live? I'd love to do something local, but I also thought about doing some kind of online event - and if I did, what would you like to see included? Feel free to leave suggestions in the comments!

And now I'm off to work on that unfinished chapter. Until next week...

Your Journey Matters: How Comparison Undermines Happiness

We've all done it. We've all had days where we sacrificed joy on the altar of comparison, times where we gave up the grace of the moment in favor of beating ourselves up for the places we haven't been, the things we haven't done, the clothes we don't have. The accomplishments we can't check off.

We like to blame it on social media - we pretend that with the world at our fingertips and our phones filled with the highlight reels of the apparently successful, the effects of comparison are inescapable. We make TikToks (and write blog posts) about how social media makes us miserable; we study mindfulness, self-care, and CBT techniques like we're back in high school and we know it'll be on the final exam.

Before that, we blamed it on advertising and Hollywood - we pretended that living in a consumerist world plastered with billboards and magazine ads and TV commercials slowly diluted the world's joy with an influx of impossible standards. But the fact is, none of this is new. History shows us comparison at every level, from fashion to business and intelligence to warfare. Humans have been collectively competing and comparing themselves with each other since the beginning of time.

So, if comparison is the thief of joy, then how do we stop it? If it's on our billboards when we drive to work, the sales prices of things we wish we could have, the social media feeds we scroll for endless hours, the closets or homes of the rich and famous, and even the report cards of the kids next to ours in school...is it truly inescapable?

Thankfully, the answer is yes. We overcome comparison issues by first understanding why toxic comparison affects happiness, and then by finding joy in a more centrally secure way, through personal contentment born of true confidence.

STEP ONE: UNDERSTANDING

When we compare ourselves to others, we foster feelings of envy and inadequacy. We trigger self-doubt, impatience, and frustration:

• "Why can't I do this faster?"
• "Why can't I do it as well as they can?"
• "What do they have that I don't?"
• "I'm not where they are - I must not be as good or smart or talented as them."

We allow these things to slip into our thoughts and then we hold onto them, certain that if we just tried harder, studied more, did more, gave more...then we could catch up. We could keep up.

And in that desperate effort to claim some ever-changing sense of victory over comparison, we lose sight of our own accomplishments, our own fulfillment. We lose appreciation for the power of our own unique journey through this life. We self-sabotage, often without meaning to or even being aware of it.

Sometimes comparison can be a good thing too, though, because we can use it to inspire growth in ourselves, to push ourselves to try something we might otherwise be too insecure to attempt. And I think that's the secret - to remember that any tool, whether it's a hammer, a fork, or your Instagram feed, is only as good or as bad for you as you allow it to be. The secret is accountability, because in holding ourselves accountable, celebrating our wins, and treating ourselves with compassion, we learn to appreciate our own progress without the same need for external validation.

STEP TWO: CONTENTMENT

There's nothing wrong with setting healthy goals or wanting more out of life - rest is important but in general, we're either growing or stagnant. The key here is to grow at your own pace, allowing yourself the grace to pause when needed and celebrate milestones as they occur. Your goals should be important to you, reflective of your morals and values, and not driven by the external needs or desires of others. They're YOUR goals, so they should be about YOU.

Take time to be grateful, too. It's easy to think we don't have enough, didn't do enough, haven't made it far enough fast enough, but making the effort to recognize the blessings in our lives reminds us of what we hold dear and where we feel accomplished.

Embrace the imperfections that make you who are. Whether it's your appearance, your career status, or the harmless little quirks in your personality, understand that if you're not dead you're not done. None of us are perfect, none of us know everything, and we've all dropped the ball before. Life is an adventure meant to be enjoyed, full of beautiful scenery enriched by the mark we leave on it...and metamorphosis doesn't happen overnight.

So give yourself patience, friends. Give yourself permission to be who you are, even as you seek inspiration and growth. But above all, rise to each new challenge as it comes with confidence, and as always...

Self-Acceptance After Trauma: 3 Foundational Steps to Healing

Recently, someone told me my writing is "a little dark." I write upmarket women's fiction with a romantic subplot, usually focused on female characters overcoming trauma. Sometimes it's big stuff like body issues or sexual assault, sometimes it's smaller...the pervasive but unrecognized trauma of realizing nothing you do will erase the fact that time steals as much as it heals.

My characters are intended to be relatable, understandable, lovable. They're your mother, sister, brother, friend. They're the support you always wanted, the people who "get it" because they've been there. I hope they motivate and inspire, that they pull compassion from reader's hearts and understanding from commonalities. Above all, I hope they teach. I hope they show people that healing is possible, even when we're healing from something no human should have to experience or heal from.

I believe solidarity breeds community, but the fact is, sometimes you've been through things other people just can't relate to. When I was seven or eight years old, I witnessed a real-life scene straight out of a horror movie. Have you ever seen one of those scenes where the bad guy's chasing the dumb girl, and she's so terrified she runs in the worst possible direction? The bad guy catches her and the camera shows his hands closing on her throat, then skips to her feet hanging just above the floor. It's such powerful imagery. You know she's being strangled; you can hear it in the gurgling. You know the force of it because the victim is literally hanging from the hand that entraps her.

I don't know if my mother put too much Miracle Whip on my step-father's sandwich, or if she didn't put enough; what I know is that he wasn't happy about it. He slapped her with the sandwich. Backhanded her with a white-bread bologna sandwich. And strangled her on the front porch of our backwoods doublewide trailer. Her back was to the wall, her feet weren't touching the ground, and I saw it all.

Someone once told me the opening scene in FIGHTING FOR FREEDOM is too much, too graphic, too triggering. Unrealistic. No way an abusive husband would come home from work already furious, no way he'd beat his wife half to death for having an innocent conversation with the mailman. I can assure you that while it is a lot, and it is graphic and could be triggering...for many of us, it's entirely realistic. Perhaps too much so, but the best art imitates life, and life is not always beautiful.

Thankfully, the rest of the Freedom Series sees Christine Matthews getting help my mother didn't have access to. Christine wakes up in the hospital, then finds herself in the Safe House, a holistic shelter program I made up because there are no programs like the one I wanted Christine to benefit from. She's given intensive therapy, targeted life training, safety, and security without deadlines and time limits. Perhaps more importantly, the greatest gift Christine receives is self-acceptance and relief from shame and blame. She learns self-compassion and self-forgiveness, and she's supported through the complicated processes of freeing herself from her marriage.

Today, I'd like to share some of the general techniques used in the writing of the Freedom Series. These are concepts my mother didn't know, practices she was never offered - but they were integral parts of the work as I began to heal from the trauma of my childhood. (Actually, the sandwich is one of the lesser traumas, which I say only to show you that I'm sharing from a certain level of personal experience.) In terms of abuse, these concepts are best integrated with care for safety first, and I won't pretend this is a recipe for rescue. Instead, they are the most basic ingredients of strength and hope. In post-trauma recovery, these three steps to healing are the very beginning - the foundation upon which you build your most authentic self.

1. Learn to be Your Own Best Friend: If you wouldn't treat another person that way, stop treating yourself that way. If you'd lose your self-control over someone talking to your best friend, your sibling, or your child like that, stop talking to yourself like that. It's easier said than done, I know, but it's worth it. The fact that it's hard to do should show you exactly how much you haven't been doing it.
2. Practice Mindfulness: At its core, this concept means, "Be in the moment. This moment." Take a break from being saddened by the past or fearful of the future to just be right now. Ask yourself, as your own best friend, "What do I need most right now?" And then, as your own best friend, give yourself what you need right now. Do you need to take steps toward finding professional help? Do you need rest? Do you need the wind in your hair or gardening tools in your hands or sand under your feet? Do you need soft music and low light, or a dance party, or a journaling session? Do you need patient understanding? Someone to hear you - really hear you - without saying, "You deserved it," or, "You brought it on yourself," or "You should have known better?"
3. Foster and Ask for Support: Choose what you listen to. If there's even one person in your life who hears you, believes you, validates your experience, and believes you deserve good things in your life, listen to that person. Hear and internalize what they say. Bite your tongue and silence the impulse to naysay compliments. (If you read this and truly believe you don't have even one person, go back and read that first item again.)

I hope these strategies give you somewhere to start. They seem simple, but they carry incredible impact when you put them into practice; they lead to self-compassion and healthy boundaries. They ground you and give you strength, energy, and permission to grow. You don't have to be where you came from. You can choose so much more.

There's no tada list this week because my personal tada is taking the time to open up in this way, to share more of why this story is so important to me.

Maybe I should have held this post, kept it until we're closer to the release of the expanded second edition of FIGHTING FOR FREEDOM (Thirty-four more weeks! We're getting so close now!). Maybe the reason I felt compelled to post it now is because someone needed it today. Either way, I hope it touched you somehow - and that if it did, you'll share it and allow it to touch someone else. Until next week, I pray that whatever comes your way, you have the support and the courage to always...

Beautiful Vulnerability: Strength Under Pressure

My parents died in 2019 and 2020, and to say there were mixed feelings would be a vast understatement. Growing up, I resented them because of the things I experienced as a kid, the pain of not being protected or prioritized, the sense of rejection and lack of worth that followed me because of how they saw (or didn't see) me. Eventually, I was able to see them with more compassion, understand more of their experiences and how those experiences colored who they were; none of that made it better, but understanding helped unload years of misplaced guilt and devastated shame. The wounds are healed, but the scar tissue remains.

When they died, I realized quite suddenly that there was no more "later." No more chances to glean bits of wisdom, ask deeper questions, or listen again to their stories. There's a certain shock when you're barely through your 30s and already an orphan - such an old-fashioned term! My parents were less than ideal, and I often felt orphaned in terms of lacking leadership long before they were gone, but the loss of them hit me harder than expected.

With my parents gone, I discovered a deeper longing for a mentor - a sort of hunger for female wisdom and leadership. I met an incredible woman in a study group at my church, and in the years since, she's become every aspect of the mother I never had. Guide and teacher, support and friend, full of life and lessons and impossible strength. She's a wee little sassy spitfire from small-town Georgia, and she's so full of light even the wrinkles around her eyes are beautiful. And through her, I found another blessing: her quiet and unassuming husband.

Lately, every time I see the quote shared in the image above, these are the people who come to mind: my Mama, who sees herself as shabby, and Pop, whose hair has been gone so long very few people remember him with it. He had open-heart surgery this past week, and I watched as he held himself together with careful laughter despite incredible pain and difficult, gasping breaths. Through the surgery hours (and the days to follow), I watched her sit with outward calm and her trademark smile despite incredible fear of the future.

After 39 years of marriage, they argue over who loves who more, and they call each other cute things like "precious," and "my love," and "baby." Yesterday I had to hide a smile when she walked him to the bathroom, walked him back to his hospital bed...and as she helped him swing his legs back up from the floor with her usual businesslike get-it-done style, he said softly, "You're throwing me around a little hard, aren't you baby?" But he makes vulnerability something other than weakness. He accepts help with gentle strength, and she offers it unthinking, simply because it is needed and love is a verb.

There aren't a lot of writing wins on this week's Ta-da List. And it was worth it.

This week wasn't without progress though. Chapter 15 is coming along, and STILL FIGHTING FOR FREEDOM is still right on schedule.

We're thirty-five weeks away from the release of the expanded second edition of FIGHTING FOR FREEDOM, and since I've been spending much of my non-writing time brainstorming fun release week events - so if the excitement doesn't kill me before we get there, it's going to be an amazing time!

For now, I'd better get back to writing. So until next week: be grateful for the mentors in your life, in whatever capacity. Love your loved ones. And as always...