I’m proud of myself. This is so hard for me to say (or write). But I’m doing it, damnit.

Flying to San Francisco and staying there for six weeks, while working my 9-5 job as well as doing a lot of caregiving for a toddler and baby was completely outside of my comfort zone. Getting up at 5:30am was also very outside of my comfort zone, but I did it, and I enjoyed it. Family dynamics can be hard and throwing the stress of parenthood and caregiving in the mix makes these dynamics louder.

My brother has always been my safe space. When our parents told us they were getting divorced, he quietly said to me, “It’s okay. We’ll be okay.” He was 8 and I was 4. After the divorce, my mom moved into an apartment that my brother and I stayed at half the time. One (literal) stormy night, I ran to her bedroom for comfort only to be met by her partner who stopped me in my tracks. I guess she was trying to help, but all I wanted was my mom. Since I couldn’t get to my mom, I ran to my brother’s room. I laid my sheepskin on his floor and tried to sleep there amidst the never-ending thunder.