In the Shadow of the Valley: A Memoir

by Bobi Conn

At some point, I stopped trusting myself to know the difference between what made sense and what did not. I learned that when things looked wrong, felt wrong, there had to be something I didn’t understand. I learned I should trust the man telling me to trust him, to accept whatever he was doing, no matter what my own good sense had to say. I learned to ignore my own judgment, and for a good long time, I had no idea that I could trust myself. We

You have every right to your anger. Nobody will ever take that away from you. But it is hurting only you.

Of course, I had made a choice. I didn’t understand that letting someone else decide for me was still a choice, that I could have said no.

Although well-meaning people sometimes told me I should cherish those days with her and not take them for granted, I took them for granted anyway. I didn’t run to her when I could have. I often brought a boy with me when I visited, hoping for her approval but precluding any chance of lying in her lap and letting her pet my head and tell me she loved me and always, always would. The