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The first time I had something emotionally difficult happen to me was prior to the time memories stayed in my mind.  It was really more of just something I was told had happened as opposed to something I remember.  My parents were divorced when I was young, but that’s not the part that has stayed with me all this time; it’s that my Dad chose my 1st birthday (after my party) to actually move out.  Recalling the number of times that the thought has passed through my mind of there being 365 days in a year and he picked that...

I truly and deeply believe that everything and everyone you encounter in your life has a purpose.  The idea of sharing my story/feelings was always frowned upon in my upbringing.  If you "aired your dirty laundry" you were either just looking for attention or you were just looking for attention.  I came from a family of "secrets," and I'm sure there were several others around us that dealt with issues the same way.  It would never come to a surprise for me to hear about something a family member had gone through months or years after the event was over...