Over the years, I’ve noticed that when I speak about the diagnosis and overdiagnosis of children, or the growing tendency to label every challenge as a mental health disorder, some people assume I’m speaking from a place of privilege or outdated thinking. I understand why. I don’t fit the profile of what many would call […]
Pt 1 – When Labels Become Identities: What decades of experience have taught me. Read More »
There’s a saying that goes, “The best sermons are lived, not preached.” It means that actions speak louder than words, that integrity is found not in what we say, but in how we live. In my family, there’s no better example of this than my grandfather, Cortez Wesley. He never wrote a book or led
When I was twelve or thirteen, my parents came home from what felt like a spiritual revival for families. They’d just returned from one of Bill Gothard’s weeklong Basic Youth Conflicts seminars; those massive evangelical events that could fill entire stadiums in the 1970s and early 80s. They brought back binders, books, games, and a
We’ve become a culture of shortcuts. Quick dopamine hits instead of slow growth. Virtual affection instead of human touch. Excuses instead of effort. And while some substitutes come from heartbreak or loss and deserve compassion, others are chosen out of fear, laziness, or comfort. Let me start with empathy. Not everyone has access to what
Stop Accepting Substitutes Read More »
The Edge of the Bed Most nights, I sleep on the edge of our large king-sized bed. Not because Dawn pushes me there, she’s too kind for that, but because of Pierre, our small, white Bichon Frise, who seems to believe that love requires no personal space. Pierre doesn’t just want to be near us;
Pierre’s Lesson: The Heartbeat of Connection Read More »
Today, in my garage, I picked up an old wooden grabber. It wasn’t much to look at; worn and twisted, but a name written across the wooden handle caught my eye. In faded ink, it read Doreen Wesley 216 A. My grandmother’s name. Her room number in the nursing home where she spent her last
The Grabber with Grandma’s Name Read More »
When I was about fourteen or fifteen, I decided it was finally time to shave. My face only had a little peach fuzz, but I’d watched my dad for years and figured I knew what to do. I opened the medicine cabinet, found his old safety razor, the kind you twisted at the bottom so
Shaving With Dull Blades Read More »
We’ve all heard the mantra: No means no. And in the world of dating, power dynamics, and preventing abuse, it should always mean exactly that: clear, firm, non-negotiable. No one should ever have to wonder if their boundaries will be respected. But here’s the twist: in long-term, committed relationships, intimacy doesn’t always move in straight
No Means No… Sometimes. Read More »