leave your shoes at the door and get comfy
Church was family—made up of my closest friends, my hyungs and nunas, and of course, my actual family: my mom, my sister, and the Holy Father. You know, the one who art in heaven, hallowed be His name. The one who art on earth stayed home on Sundays. My dad rejected everything about church. To…
I can only infer my parents loved each other once. Rather than warmth or anything wholesome, my parents’ marriage was characterized by submission to my dad’s oppressive authority. He was hard as flint but just as brittle—prone to mood swings and brooding anger. The rest of the family adopted strategies of avoidance or appeasement when…