It didn’t erase the hurt, and it didn’t change the fact that boundaries had been broken, but it opened a door I hadn’t considered. My father, imperfect as he was, wasn’t telling me to settle—he was telling me to choose from a place of clarity, not fear or anger. When my husband walked into the room a few minutes later, holding a small bouquet he must have bought downstairs, he looked nervous, almost fragile.Continue reading…
