Building a life based on lies was how my parents had taught me to live, and it would take a full twenty-one years after I left home the first time, at seventeen, to begin to try to do it differently. To unravel my past, to build a life hinged on the simple premise that I mattered. It was something I was not taught, but it was a basic bit needed for making a future.
In 1995, when I boarded that plane for San Diego, I didn’t yet realize I mattered, didn’t yet value myself, but I did know this: I could not and did not want to keep living the life I was living.
In the new issue of Midnight Breakfast, Anna March shares a stunning essay about family secrets, life-changing trips, crystal meth, and becoming a writer.
