Author: Kimberly Blakes

**trigger warning** Things got better between us. School was finally going smoothly, and I settled into a routine with him. I would go to his house every other weekend and stay home during the week. I did my schoolwork while at school and talked on the phone at night. One weekend, I decided to wear…

The following weekend, my mom was home with my sister and the new baby, so I went to Gino’s house to escape the constant suffocation of grief. My sister found out about our father after getting home with the baby. I’ll never forget it. She got out of my aunt’s van, I took the baby,…

This is RAGE. My days have been consumed with the story at hand. I’m back there in every way. It has been more than 30 years, and everything is STILL just as fresh as it was the day it happened! I thought, “time heals all wounds.” Time hasn’t healed ANYTHING. I thought that with all…

My name tattooed on a boy’s chest was NOT on my bingo card for 1991. I asked, “Why did you do it?” He said, because he loved me and one day we would get married. This was surreal. I wanted to acknowledge the gesture, so I had my friend Tammy put his name on my…

This was really happening. A boy, who was well-known, best-dressed, and a junior, was actually checking ME out. When the bell rang, I went to the main stairwell to get to my 6th-period class. He legit walked beside me all the way there and was outside when the class let out. I wasn’t really flattered;…

My first real boyfriend was an unlikely candidate. Of course, I had a couple of bouts with puppy love, but nothing near serious or lasting more than a few weeks. I was 14 years old and a freshman in high school. At the time, boys were the furthest thing from my mind. I was too…

Hey everyone, I’ve missed you all so much! I’ve been thinking about how much I value this space, and I’m excited to announce a new blog series I’ve been working on. In this series, I’m unpacking my roots and reflecting on how they’ve shaped the person I am today. I won’t lie—this hasn’t been an…

I will share this because I know it can help someone like me. You may have come from abuse, but it doesn’t have to come from you. My father was an alcoholic, and he was cruel, to say the least. He was a mean drunk most of the time. We never knew if the bottle…