Beauty in the Struggle: The Silent Voice of a Widow

ere so many signs there in front of me. My childhood had been

ob seemed the best thing to do. Trying is the keyword here. It seemed that what I did was never enough as a mother, a wife, and just as me. I already had elevated expectations of myself, and eve

then there was Jaiden; men heard I had a daughter. They would turn and run as far away from me as possible. I did not understand. I did not think there was anything wrong with

s my mom had met in town, like the feed store or one of her boyfriend Larry's friends or whatever you want to call them, I had given up and enjoyed being single. It meant I could do what I wanted when I wanted. I had this thing for him for a long time, ever since middle school. He w