It took my dad dying for me to finally wake up, get dressed, and drag my authentic self to life’s big party. I know that might sound like a terrible thing to say, but it’s true. In dealing with my shock and anger over my father’s lifelong secrets, I discovered my own passion for writing. I had spent my entire adulthood feeling ashamed and guilty about my admittedly foolish childhood missteps when the most momentous relationship in my life had been based on hypocrisy and lies. This irony...


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