The Wounds Beneath the Smile

Stories from my earliest betrayals, wounds, and survival instincts—told without filters.

  • | |

    I was Just Being A Big Sister

    I was just being a big sister But nothing about that day was simple. “This was just one more brick in a path of one-sided loyalty.” -Big Sister I Was Just Being a Big Sister But Nothing About That Day Was Simple. There are days that stay with you. Not because of what someone said,…

  • |

    The Disrespect Was in the Details

    The Disrespect Was in the Details There are some things you just don’t expect to have to say out loud.“Don’t be intimate in my bed” is one of them. But I found myself needing to say it—after the fact. And not because I was trying to be petty, but because the disrespect hit me in…

  • | |

    The Day My Voice Broke

    The Day My Voice Broke (And What It Took to Get It Back)🌀 When Shouting Isn’t Healing I didn’t lose my voice in a moment I spent a lifetime yelling it away. I was raised in a family where yelling wasn’t just common, it was the language of survival.Whether we were arguing or cracking “yo…

  • |

    No, Momma. That’s Not a Good Memory

    I had been out of prison about a year. Finally moved out of my daughter’s house and into my own place. Hear me say that again… my own place. I was the oldest of six, mother of four, with nine grandkids at the time—and fresh out of prison. And this was the first time I…

  • | |

    She Just Kept Unpacking Groceries

    I was ten. I told the truth. He yelled. She unpacked groceries. And we went to church like it was just another night. If you’ve ever wondered why some of us go quiet—this is the story behind that silence.

  • | |

    Pastor’s Daughter, Teen Mom, and the Church’s Response

    Pastor’s Daughter, Teen Mom, and the Church’s Response What Happens When Teen Moms Are Shamed Instead of Supported I was 15 when I found out I was pregnant. A pastor’s kid—both parents. And the father? He was the church organist. He asked me not to tell anyone, said we’d “take care of it.” But before…

  • | |

    We Didn’t Get the Same Mom

    The oldest child’s perspective on a mother divided by time Every woman shifts with the seasons of her life.And every mother becomes a different version of herself in each one. First, she’s just her.Then she enters a relationship—or a marriage—and something in her shifts.Then comes her first child… and that’s a whole new version.And with…