Becoming the Hero, Written Series Once a month I do an art workshop at the local domestic and sexual violence crisis center. It is the crisis center that helped me as I decided to leave my abusive marriage. I am incredibly fortunate to be able to return as a survivor and share empathy, understanding, and some skills that help me navigate life after abuse. I take some of my pieces and share my process of healing through art; inviting the workshop members to find the tools that

Poetry is not my forte. However, while trying to heal and process my experiences, sometimes poem like strings of words are what comes out. They're not eloquent. They're not pretty. They are real. This spoken piece was written a couple years ago while on vacation in California. I got in the car with my cousin to drive to the airport and it was screaming in my head. I asked if she minded if I used my phone's voice recorder to take down what was trying to tear my brain apart. I

My friend says my paintings scare her. My response: "How do you think they make me feel? I live with this." *TRIGGER WARNING. Sexual Assault, Rape, Domestic Violence, PTSD. ** I've deleted and rewritten this post several times. In my head and physically. There really are no words to eloquently express how I'm feeling and what I'm thinking. A string of expletives, while closer, would still be lacking. Hence, the paintings. Even they aren't enough. I've seen many depictions of

There's a line from the movie Shrek that has stuck with me from my first viewing. Probably because everyone quoted it over and over. "Layers. Onions have layers. Ogres have layers... You get it? We both have layers." I agree with Shrek's self observation, and Donkey's reaction: "You know, not everybody likes onions." While I have never enjoyed thinking of myself as an onion, that was an eye opener for me. Humans are not one dimensional. We have this weird desire to classify e