"Tonight, he is with someone else. He texted her from some beer hall she's forgotten the name of. Said he's going home with someone. He'd be back late. He sent the address and a kissy-face emoji. Love you, baby, he wrote."
"I tell myself that all these missed opportunities are a season, and it will pass, but as a new acquaintance with grown children pointed out: my oldest is [fifteen] and is in the place where she hardly wants to do anything anymore, let alone do it with her family. Pulling no punches in regard to my teenager ever wanting to do things with the family again, the acquaintance said, 'That ship has sailed.'”
"'I don’t know' wasn’t an acceptable answer for anything in my youth. As an adult, though, when I don’t have an answer for something knowledge-based, I say it: 'I don’t know, but I can look it up.'
"But, emotion-based? How can I not know how I’m feeling?"
"All the times I wanted to call her, but if I did, a stranger would answer.
"All the moments I needed her with me, but she couldn’t be there.
"Most times when I kiss my husband and I feel safe and warm and loved, I wonder if my dad gave my mom that same feeling. I hold my kids, and I wonder if that blanket of love my mind drapes around them was an experience she had when she’d hug my brother and me."
"I’m an island. And I didn’t realize how lonely that can be until others move away or move on with their lives. Now, I truly realize how much their friendship and physical presence positively altered my life.
"But, I’m here. On my island, in the heart of a U.S. metropolis that everyone seems to vacate, yet loves to visit.
"For nearly two years I’ve been learning about Autism and trying to reimagine my life knowing that the struggles I’ve faced were not those of a deficient or 'ridiculous' person, but of one who is differently wired."
"I shifted toward him and said, 'It’s not that I’m exactly struggling more now, I’m just showing you more of my struggles — I’m unmasking as I learn more about Autism. And now you’re just seeing more of my processing that I hid from everyone as to not inconvenience others.'"
then it was over,short narrative essay, Hey, World!
"I couldn't speak for a couple days after the tube came out. She fidgeted more, stopping only after she asked me if I minded if she returned to work. She was falling behind, she said. I croaked an OK and she said she loved me. Then she went back out for a cigarette."
"I could feel her eyes on me, boring in. I couldn’t tell if they were regretful or fierce. I refused to look at her, to give her that satisfaction just to find out."
"She never once pushed him, he just assumed she was trying to get her way constantly. She’s the one who pursued him. He liked that. He loved that about her, even. He’d never met a woman who went after him like she did, and . . ."
I'm Sara Eatherton-Goff, a former business strategist turned personal essayist and short story writer. I write about neurodivergence, trauma, healing, identity, motherhood, and managing life's complexities as a late-diagnosed Autistic person with ADHD and chronic illness.
I live and write in Seattle, Washington with my three kids and husband.
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![[ Stylized photo of writing at Sara Eatherton-Goff's desk ]](https://segwrites.com/media/posts/12/Desk-Writing-Image.png)
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