Heartache is inevitable, and heartache is shared. What happens to a heart that keeps acquiring new wounds before the old ones get a chance to heal? The threads and beads on this patch are stacked and twisted to represent blood and heart tissue in various stages of healing. It's what I imagine my heart looks like; scabby, raw, oozing flesh and blood, and my peace with it.
Why talk about generational trauma
What made your parents who they are? What made them be a little harsh on you, or withhold hugs, or freak out over nothing...