https://www.amazon.com/Jagged-Heart-Broken-Bottles-Book-ebook/dp/B01E81MGUS
$0.99 on Amazon 6/17/16-6/19/16!
Swept into a romance with professional baseball player, Ryan Tilton, we've just had an evening of dreams—until I wouldn't have sex with him. I couldn't risk it. To me, sex means marriage. It means love and forever. I tried to explain. I didn't hide it. But to him, it means love, acceptance, and that he wouldn't be abandoned the same way he was when a boy of fourteen and his father was killed in the Middle East. He's pleaded with me to tell him my feelings and openly tells me he loves me. I can't repeat the words. Once I do, he'll abandon me just like my parents—discounting my feelings because they can't deal with their own. I couldn't risk it. I knew he'd leave.
Dad battles his alcoholism. Mom embraces her co-dependency. They've gambled with their daughters' mental and physical safety multiple times over the years.
I'm at a crossroads trying to understand this threshold of being an adult, yet emerging from childhood. It's as if a tornado has taken me into it's roar spun and tossed me around, breaking me away as I cling to the twisted security of my family—even the word "secure" sends a shiver through me. I've never been.
Being raised in an dysfunctional family battling alcoholism whispers, stay hidden in the shadows, be safe, don't be noticed or share too much.
I know this is it.
I need to take a risk.
I need to let go of old fears, forgive my parents, embrace intimacy and move forward. I need to trust—especially myself—so that I can transition into joy.