I am still using GBsMom for writing. I am still GB’s mom. GB is in a different place then she was. Most of the changes were positive. I will do a couple of update posts on my family, but not now. Not tonight.

Since I stopped coming here to share, I have had many experiences. I still need to rummage through most of them to find the ones that are part of me. GB’s Mom was the part of me I chose to share with you. There have always been other facets that I am defined by. I have spent the last months looking at the and getting to know them.

I love GB. Unconditionally, pervasively just as she is. It is me. I spent the last six months looking at some parts of who I am that hav nothing to do with kids or trauma.  The kids and the trauma are still here. I found someone who is a might have been me. A younger me. A me before I was overwhelmed and still expected the best in people. A me with more courage and daring then I have had in an eon of time and space. I named that possible me Damia and spent many, many hours getting to know her. There is a lot to like about Damia as well as flaws I would have preferred not to see. Remember, everything I write is my truth, no one else’s. I am not asking anyone to agree with me or see their story in me. My road is not main street America and there is a lot of it currently beyond my understanding. Whether you read it is your choice.

My oldest daughter has grown in ways I never thought possible. It is one of the joys in my life. It is also a constant ache. I could not meet a lot of her needs as a child and that empty space always looks out at me. I have not found peace. Hope has exhibited more pathological behavior in the last 6 months then in her first three years with us. She has an outstanding therapist. Underneath RAD there was profound trauma, much more then we even suspected.

Several of our other kids have found their way home. I will share some of their stories as I share mine. My health has deteriorated. I am still married, sorta. That is where my next post may start.


It has been a while. Almost a year. I stopped writing not because I ran out of things to say, but because I had so much to say and didn’t have a place to start. If you are looking for a coherent narrative, you need to go elsewhere. I am what I am. At this moment. I haven’t looked at what I might be tomorrow.