Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
Mom tribute
Okay here it goes, I selected this specific tattoo to submit because there is a true sadness but REAL LOVE and meaning of love. My mom was my best friend, boy hunter, crazy, adventurous and spontaneous woman. She was the definition of WONDER WOMAN to me and my brothers’ because she raised 3 children on her own and she crossed the river to live the American Dream with my siblings. Both of my oldest brothers’ were born and raised in Mexico with my mom and I was born in California, U.S. My mom was a cool but yet strict mom of course. At the age of 18, she got me my first tattoo of a tribal hibiscus tattoo in color. It was my birthday/late Christmas present.
By Martha Acosta5 years ago in Families
Dealing with Mom Guilt as a Work from Home Mom (4 Powerful Tips)
I’d venture to say that most moms struggle with mom guilt every now and then, if not multiple times a week. Mom guilt can be crippling and it can make you doubt yourself sooooo much. (You probably don’t need me to tell you this, though!)
By Ciara Guerrero5 years ago in Families
Mama I’m Depressed!
ATTENTION!!!! All Black parents, guardians, and households, check on your Black child(ren). The topic of suicide, self harm, and mental health are taboo in the Black community. When the conversation is brought up you can feel the atmosphere shift, and people become uncomfortable. Black children don’t even think about opening up to their parents because they are hit with responses such as:
By Lahmia T. Mass5 years ago in Families
The girl with no arms
Welcome! Let me tell you a bit about myself, first off Hi my name is Korrin. It's not pronounced the way it's spelt, I have close friends who still mess up saying it correctly it's kinda funny. So just skip over the name because it doesn't really matter anyways. My hair color and my style is constantly changing, as you can see I have an addiction to getting ink! In total I have 25 pieces on my body and each tell their own little story. My favorite times to get ink done is when my heart hurts and is shattered into a zillion tiny pieces. If I'm too feel pain I better damn well get something good out of it wouldn't you agree? Sadly my entire life has been so full of pain, I just try to block my trauma out. It doesn't work. So can you take a wild guess what age I was when I got my first tatty? 13... Can you possibly try to guess what the hell I decided to get? A friggin pot leaf....oops!!! So until I was 18 years old and could find someone to cover it up....I was known as the girl with the pot leaf on her back. Honestly there where so many times I completely forgot I had it there...until I would get some pretty judgemental stares. When I went into the foster system for the last time at age 13 I turned into this wild child. Surprisingly it honestly saved my life, and they let me express myself freely to a point. They let me color my hair, and let me play with makeup (remember those mask days? HAHA) Though I thought I was going to be planning my own funeral once I went home and they discovered what stupid thing I had done. At the end of the day I finally got it covered with a rose and tribal art. I can still see hints of that darn leaf as the red ink fades over the years, but it's a reminder of my past so I've learnt to accept it. Now to explain my favorite piece and how the girl on my arm is.... you guessed it...me!
By Korrin McPherson5 years ago in Families
Baby Daddy
My name is Laura, I am 21 years old and I have a 2 year old and 1 year old. I got pregnant with my first son when I was 18, gave birth at 19. He was obviously not planned but I was in love with his father and we were living together (stupid choice) but I will explain everything about his dad. My second son has a different father who I am currently with. He has helped raise both my kids and is a great guy. I love the kid to death. Up until yesterday. So little back story, I met the father of my first son in high school, his name is Luis. We had been together for about 4 years, we were high school sweethearts, I left my moms house to be with him, essentially because my mom had kicked me out and he also gave me an ultimatum. Either I left my house or we broke up, my mom HATED him. Like she wanted to stab him, still does actually! So my moms hatred didn't allow us to go out like normal teens, I was always picking up "shifts" so that I could see him and sneak around to do the deed, duh. My mom found out a couple ties and boy did I get my ass beat thru out my teenage years, so came the day I turned 18 and coincidentally my mom and I fought, she kicked me out and I moved in with Luis, things were amazing, we were so happy, his mother loved me and she loved having me in her home. I ended up getting pregnant and I wasn't too excited to be honest, I was terrified, I was terrified of what my mom was gonna say, I was terrified because I didn't wanna give birth, just a bunch of shit running thru my mind. Well, August 1st I gave birth to y beautiful boy and not even an hour had passed when Luis told me that I needed to move out with OUR NEWBORN son, he claimed that his mother and I were gonna fight because he knew I was going to be too possessive of my son , damn right I am, I literally broke my vagina for him, his mother has a HORRIBLE nicotine addiction, I didn't want that around my son and so I told him to give me some time to find a place with my son, it wasn't long before he had already started seeing someone, Luis worked at a pizza joint, there was a girl there that I knew had a thing for him because she was always staring at him and I even brought up to his attention and he always said "Oh she's ugly I could never look her way" you know, typical male claims. Well long story short, he started dating her and hooking up with her while I still lived in his home. He never helped with the baby, he would leave pretty much all night, I was still healing from giving birth and I had lots of stitches down there, so logically I was in a lot of pain, but, that never stopped the fuck mobile. My son is now 2 and he doesn't see his dad too often because Luis forgets that he has a son and doesn't ever reach out to his son unless I ask him if he wants to see his son. There are so many details to my life but for now this is all I wanna share.
By Laura Guido5 years ago in Families
Nate's Stomach Knot
Nate walked into the large meeting room. Looking around, he could see that the room was much larger than he thought it would be. The walls were made from cinder blocks yet painted with bright primary colors and there were toys all over the room. In the center of the room was a very large table that had far fewer chairs at in then you would expect.
By Thisguy_755 years ago in Families
To My Village
To My Village, As a sober mom of toddler twins, it is no lie that it actually does take a village. I am lucky that my village is strong and full of loved ones. I also still struggle asking for help. I feel like I should be able to do everything on my own and feel guilty if I cannot. I feel like it should be easy to open the door pushing a massive wagon filled with two toddlers, snacks, juice boxes, and a hefty diaper backpack on my back. I feel like I should not expect strangers to stare at me in awe and say “wow, you are a Rockstar- you have your hands full.” When they say that, I feel like I have to justify it, downplay it, and say “no not really.” When in reality, fuck yes! I am a Rockstar. I deserve to be praised and helped. I deserve to have the doors opened for me and to have people demanding I take them up on watching the kids for an hour while I can nap. Yet, it is still like pulling nails to say “yes, please…I need the help.” Why? Why is this such a struggle for moms everywhere to accept help. We are all Rockstars, yet we need help. We know we can do this on our own. We have proved it time and time again. But why should we?
By Ellen Elizabeth5 years ago in Families
I Puppet
What I didn’t expect is that something, somebody, could make me feel like this. Every squeak, every smile, every little wiggle she makes pulls the heart strings as if she were my emotive puppeteer. Up and down I dance for her, my tears of joy and pride illuminating my blush face and my reflection of her little life from mine. She can do no wrong. She is my light, but I am glowing.
By Vincent Maertz5 years ago in Families
The pain of child loss
Many women, dream to have a child. While miscarriage/loss of a child is very common (over 3 MILLION cases per year) it is very hard and emotional to talk about. Whether you were 6 weeks or 6 months, the physical and pshycological pain is VERY real.
By Alexis DeCamp5 years ago in Families
