Mom Called Me Damaged at My Sister’s Baby Shower

almost a year after the baby shower.

I saw her through the front window before she opened the door.

My body reacted before my mind did.

Shoulders tight. Breath short. Jaw locked.

Trauma does not wait for context.

Beatrice, who still worked part-time whenever she felt like judging my taste, looked up from the desk.

“Oh,” she said. “The dragon.”

“Bea.”

“What?continue reading …