Out of the Woods

by Hannah Bonam-Young

My mother was religious in the same way that leggings are pants. By that I mean whenever times were desperate or for comfort.

If my mother could hear me now, she’d roll in her urn…That really doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it?

If there is a saint of shutting the fuck up, my mother never introduced us.

“Often, we can find ourselves playing what-if instead of recognizing what we can do now to build the life we want. The truth is the past is one of the only things as stubborn as us humans. Unfortunately, it won’t change no matter how much you ask it to.”