This poem is for all women who have sat stunned in the courtrooms as their abusive partners or husbands are given little more than a slap on the wrist for committing acts of violence, often repeatedly, and without consequence. The laws are still antiquated in many states, making it so that female victims are … Continue reading When his Gavel Went Down
The Spa Mammogram
As I left the diagnostic imaging center after a particularly disturbing mammogram, I wondered why men are allowed to be obstetricians and gynecologists. It never made sense to me. And I wonder why Western medicine assumes that it is perfectly appropriate for male physicians to be involved in women’s breast care, and that women … Continue reading The Spa Mammogram
“Why can’t I stop being worried, anxious, depressed, panicked, agitated and angry?”
This is a question I ask myself multiple times each day. Most clients come to see me because they are asking themselves the same questions, and they find that their suffering from anxiety related to living in the world, and especially, in our American culture, seems insurmountable. Our culture valorizes and encourages competitiveness, material … Continue reading “Why can’t I stop being worried, anxious, depressed, panicked, agitated and angry?”
“IT’S IN MY BONES”
A Young Woman’s Story of Fighting Breast Cancer and the So-Called Healthcare System Courtney comes in to see me eight weeks after having a double mastectomy. She was diagnosed with breast cancer in August of 2017. Courtney is thirty-two years old and is in graduate school for a specialized degree in education. Her intention … Continue reading “IT’S IN MY BONES”
White Woman Boots
It was August 12th, and I was driving through the desert to the Paiute-Shoshone Reservation in Fallon, Nevada, to see a family who had been ordered to receive family therapy by the county child protective services agency. It seemed fitting to be driving in the desert where the temperatures soared above 100 degrees, and the … Continue reading White Woman Boots
The Looking Glass Lies: A Story of Deprivation and Hunger
The ghost of past demons lie dormant just beneath my skin just where the light dances on the crest of bone and can be awakened when the shame is triggered around not being good enough or not really having a place in this world or not being of any use.
Who the F**k do I think I am?
Lozado and Fish, the other boy, newly out of prison, are preparing to make chicken. The mother in me arises and the therapist leaves my body. I notice the fouled sponges and dish scrubbers sitting by the sink. "Those will kill you," I tell them.
