The Birthday Party Where My Mother’s Perfect Image Cracked

Or written a twelve-paragraph message defending myself.

I did none of those things.

Instead, I stared at the ceiling and quietly, carefully made a different decision.

I wasn’t going to beg. I wasn’t going to defend myself.

I was going to show up.

How We Got Here

My name is Erica. I’m thirty-two years old. And I wasn’t always a single mom.

I grew up in a continue reading …