Whitney Theresa June
Stories (13/0)
Sleepy Childhood Confessions
Mother of mine, As I was growing up, our entire family teased me about how often I would sleep in your room before I became a teenager. To this day, the "because you were the baby and her favourite" comments will still be launched at me like a sibling-guided missile.
By Whitney Theresa June2 years ago in Confessions
On A Blade's Edge
Was I just imagining it? The distinct cracking sound. Or more accurately, a crunching, which made the hairs on my arm rise. The memory, even distant, had cavorted with my cells until it became a part of me. Reminding me how I had read somewhere that trauma can actually leave a chemical mark within your genes, altering its expression on future generations.
By Whitney Theresa June3 years ago in Fiction
A 'Palmful'
I made her specifically measure out what a “palmful” was once. Her voice echoes in my mind as I type this, “You know. A palmful.” She’ll even cup one hand to show the concept with a tone in her voice that hints at the ridiculousness of my inability to know.
By Whitney Theresa June3 years ago in Families
The Truth is like a Needle in a Haystack
Can memories, not your own, destroy a place that has woven itself within the very fabric of your soul? Should someone else’s pain erase a past that never belonged to them? I teeter totter between; I hope not and how can it not. Greedily telling myself to not let it. For some reason these thoughts connect to a mantra that got me through high school, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” It doesn’t really apply to this situation, but I feel like the intent remains within the same vein. I twist it to suit my current purpose. “No one can take away how you feel without your consent.” But I struggle with the word consent. It implies that a person had a choice to begin with. And all those choices were made by other people and not me. But can I really say that? Just like consent I struggle with the notion of culpability.
By Whitney Theresa June3 years ago in Fiction