I came to Substack after a long time. I avoid reading as much as writing. It's probably because it makes me think about feelings I have suppressed for a long time. Especially feelings regarding my mother. Thank you for your beautiful, beautiful words, and for the courage to listen and heal.
Thank you for sharing these thoughts about these deep rooted wounds that aren’t typically spoken about except in private. Shining light on them helps create space for healing.
i really believe that whatever lives in the dark gains power—so bringing it into the light, as you said, absolutely creates space for healing. i deeply agree. thank you for reading.
I have no words and so many words after reading this. I feel so warmed your parts have you. That you see their pain and hunger. Now I’m crying again.
I’ve had this book under my bed for almost 2 years. Like a monster under my bed. Knowing I need it but afraid to really crack the cover. This was the gentle opening I needed.
kaitlyn, i just want you to know that i feel you—and i’m witnessing you as you witness yourself and offer yourself permission to feel. i had a similar relationship with this book… it sat with me for a long time before i was ready. i wish you so much softness and strength as you move through it. i hope it offers you the same support it’s given me.
This resonated so deeply. Especially growing up in a house with dv and seeing things through a different lens. My mom is long gone and I reflect often on moments like yours when I realized my girlhood was over. I’m proud of you for doing what works best for you even when it’s hard and for feeling the feelings instead of tucking them away. I wrote something the other day that was just like you mentioned — I don’t know if the tears were influencing the words or the words were influencing the tears but I tore through and I felt so much better after and didn’t even know all of that was bottled inside. Thank you for sharing. It’s more than needed 🤍
i love knowing you’re moving through a similar process of metabolizing your emotions. i haven’t written from my own depths in a long time, and i too found myself wondering—was it the tears propelling the writing, or the writing propelling the tears? thank you for sharing so openly. i hope you continue to find the healing and support you need, and that what i share here can keep offering something meaningful along the way.
Erica, I felt so much emotion at every pivot of your journey. By the end, I was crying. I just read your post today, May 17th because I saw a link to it and the title drew me in. I have my own painful story about being a child of the working poor, a "walking on eggshells" , tension-filled household, a father who had mercurial moods, who hit my mother on occasion and so much more. I felt your emotions coming through. I'm glad that you told your story. What a catharsis! And I'm glad that you are gradually working through all the things that a trauma survivor does. At 64, I am just beginning. Lastly, I am sending you heartfelt wishes for continued healing, for inner peace, and for joy!
wishing you so much ease and clarity as you move through your healing. it truly is never too late—and i’m with you, walking my own path toward repair, too. i’m also really glad you were moved to tears; i imagine those tears were more for you than for me. as someone who’s struggled to cry most of my life, i’ve often needed others’ stories to access my own emotions. i hope reading this offered you some of that kind of support. thank you for your heartfelt wishes—they mean so much.
Erica, I was fortunate to have wonderful and healthy parents and a warm, supported childhood. I thank you for your honest vulnerability and softness! Xo
i’m so glad you were blessed with protection and softness in your childhood—that’s such a profound gift. i really appreciate you being open to and resonating with my experience, even though it’s not one you’ve lived yourself. that kind of witnessing means a lot.
In The Argonauts, Maggie Nelson talks about “the many-gendered mothers of my heart,” an idea that brings me some solace this time of year. What I was thinking about as I read your piece is how many, many mothers (of whatever gender!) you’ve seen in your past work and how, over the years, you might have been refracting your relationship with your mother through each of those lenses [of birth, of new maternal relationships formed]. It’s really lovely to see the affection you hold for your mother even as you hunger for more. I hope you find the nourishment you seek 🤍
thank you so much for reading—it really means a lot. one of my biggest fears about joining substack was the possibility of writing into the void, so words like yours help me feel like I need to keep going.
I came to Substack after a long time. I avoid reading as much as writing. It's probably because it makes me think about feelings I have suppressed for a long time. Especially feelings regarding my mother. Thank you for your beautiful, beautiful words, and for the courage to listen and heal.
Thank you for sharing these thoughts about these deep rooted wounds that aren’t typically spoken about except in private. Shining light on them helps create space for healing.
i really believe that whatever lives in the dark gains power—so bringing it into the light, as you said, absolutely creates space for healing. i deeply agree. thank you for reading.
Such a beautiful read. Thank you!
thank YOU for reading 🦋
it’s a gift to read your writing and to know more about the before that has brought you to your now! Ily 🤎
ILY. thank you for reading and being open to knowing me more deeply.
I have no words and so many words after reading this. I feel so warmed your parts have you. That you see their pain and hunger. Now I’m crying again.
I’ve had this book under my bed for almost 2 years. Like a monster under my bed. Knowing I need it but afraid to really crack the cover. This was the gentle opening I needed.
Thank you, thank you 💛
kaitlyn, i just want you to know that i feel you—and i’m witnessing you as you witness yourself and offer yourself permission to feel. i had a similar relationship with this book… it sat with me for a long time before i was ready. i wish you so much softness and strength as you move through it. i hope it offers you the same support it’s given me.
This resonated so deeply. Especially growing up in a house with dv and seeing things through a different lens. My mom is long gone and I reflect often on moments like yours when I realized my girlhood was over. I’m proud of you for doing what works best for you even when it’s hard and for feeling the feelings instead of tucking them away. I wrote something the other day that was just like you mentioned — I don’t know if the tears were influencing the words or the words were influencing the tears but I tore through and I felt so much better after and didn’t even know all of that was bottled inside. Thank you for sharing. It’s more than needed 🤍
i love knowing you’re moving through a similar process of metabolizing your emotions. i haven’t written from my own depths in a long time, and i too found myself wondering—was it the tears propelling the writing, or the writing propelling the tears? thank you for sharing so openly. i hope you continue to find the healing and support you need, and that what i share here can keep offering something meaningful along the way.
You both wrote from deep in your hearts. From deep water flows the tears.
Erica, I felt so much emotion at every pivot of your journey. By the end, I was crying. I just read your post today, May 17th because I saw a link to it and the title drew me in. I have my own painful story about being a child of the working poor, a "walking on eggshells" , tension-filled household, a father who had mercurial moods, who hit my mother on occasion and so much more. I felt your emotions coming through. I'm glad that you told your story. What a catharsis! And I'm glad that you are gradually working through all the things that a trauma survivor does. At 64, I am just beginning. Lastly, I am sending you heartfelt wishes for continued healing, for inner peace, and for joy!
wishing you so much ease and clarity as you move through your healing. it truly is never too late—and i’m with you, walking my own path toward repair, too. i’m also really glad you were moved to tears; i imagine those tears were more for you than for me. as someone who’s struggled to cry most of my life, i’ve often needed others’ stories to access my own emotions. i hope reading this offered you some of that kind of support. thank you for your heartfelt wishes—they mean so much.
Erica, I was fortunate to have wonderful and healthy parents and a warm, supported childhood. I thank you for your honest vulnerability and softness! Xo
i’m so glad you were blessed with protection and softness in your childhood—that’s such a profound gift. i really appreciate you being open to and resonating with my experience, even though it’s not one you’ve lived yourself. that kind of witnessing means a lot.
Thank you Erica. ❤️
thank you for reading friend 🫂🩵
sending you love today. <3 cherishing these words
oh, i appreciate you 🦋✨
Beautifully written! Thank you for sharing 🫶🏼
In The Argonauts, Maggie Nelson talks about “the many-gendered mothers of my heart,” an idea that brings me some solace this time of year. What I was thinking about as I read your piece is how many, many mothers (of whatever gender!) you’ve seen in your past work and how, over the years, you might have been refracting your relationship with your mother through each of those lenses [of birth, of new maternal relationships formed]. It’s really lovely to see the affection you hold for your mother even as you hunger for more. I hope you find the nourishment you seek 🤍
Thank you for this 💛
🦋
I love you dear one. I am here with you, holding this profound pain. Thank you for writing this, thank you for letting us in.
oh my sweet fa. i know you’re here with me. and i feel you holding this pain by my side. i love you.
Thank you for sharing such an intimate and powerful piece of writing. Hunger and wallowing.
thank you so much for reading—it really means a lot. one of my biggest fears about joining substack was the possibility of writing into the void, so words like yours help me feel like I need to keep going.
Beautifully written thank you for sharing
thanks, love. appreciate you. excited to connect IRL soon. and so glad you’re here.