by Christina Enevoldsen When my two-year-old grandson accomplishes anything—big or small—he celebrates. Benjamin gets a huge grin on his face and claps his hands vigorously when he goes potty on the toilet. When he puts all his toys away, he
by Linda Pittman People used to tell me I was pretty but I never believed it. I always felt like they had an ulterior motive. I thought they said those things so that they could use me or because they
by Christina Enevoldsen I saw myself standing next to a long line of people waiting to have their requests fulfilled. I wasn’t in the line; I was standing to the side, waiting for permission to get in the line. I
by Christina Enevoldsen I wrote a fictional story about a little girl being sexually abused by her father. It was for a project I was working on and I didn’t intend for it to be autobiographical, but when I came
by Christina Enevoldsen As the co-founder of a site that deals with healing from abuse, I’m supposed to be very enthusiastic about healing. I’m the one who yells “Hooray!” for those small victories and I spur on the weary survivor.
by Linda Pittman Throughout my healing journey from childhood sexual abuse, I have heard a lot about the need for “healthy boundaries”. How do I know if my boundaries are healthy? What are they and how do I measure mine?
by Bethany I was ten years old when I blurted out my dark secret to my mom: I fantasized about dying tragically. Before I could finish detailing exactly how I wanted my body to be found, she interrupted me with,
by Christina Enevoldsen Just a note: Sometimes I believe things because they are true; other times I believe things because an alternate truth would be painful. One of the indications that I’m invested in a particular belief as a coping
by Christina Enevoldsen & Darlene Ouimet Christina: The other day, I was felt unsettled about some things and, as usual, I poured out my heart to my husband. He’s a good listener, so as I processed my feelings I realized
by Jennifer Stuck I have come to believe that secrets are the enemy. They are the parasites that eat away at the human soul. We are meant to be social creatures, to share and express our complex emotions. Yet generation