Since I was a kid, I haven’t been close to my father. He’s never shown much interest in my life or my sister’s life, and growing up it was clear that he viewed raising us as solely our mother’s responsibility. His responsibility began and ended with (fairly begrudgingly) supporting us financially.

I recently came across an xoJane article called 6 Tips for Dealing with Your In-Laws, Because When You Marry Your Spouse, You Marry Them Too, and I had to write a rebuttal. I respectfully disagree with the author — for good reason.The moment I announced my engagement in 2015, the "advice" started

After about two hours of crying, praying, and searching our own souls for answers, my family and I had finally gotten news on Daddy’s condition. He had sustained two gunshot wounds to the back of his head and two to his upper back. His medical team said it was too much for him to survive, and the

I was 10 years old when my extended family cut us off. All of them except for my grandma. And it wasn't like we had two sides of the family, because we weren't ever introduced to my dad's side; no fault of his own because he didn't really know them either. So I clung to my grandma. She'd

My heart beat hot in my ears. That was the only thing I could feel as my life, my perfect little illusion of a life, collapsed in on itself. I knew I should be crying or screaming, but I wasn’t. Instead, words that didn’t make sense left my mouth on repeat: "Stop joking." Over and over again,