Journal
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I never wanted to be a dad. I was terrified of repeating the pain I grew up with. But fatherhood became the most important part of who I am. This is my story of healing, of showing up for my sons—and for the kids who needed someone like me. Not to take from mothers, but…
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“Tears that remain in the body are poisonous. It is only when they touch air and skin that they become a healing balm. Tears heal— as long as we allow ourselves to cry.”
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This morning I had a dream and I woke up crying. Even as I write this, I can’t stop them from flowing. I can’t believe how much time has passed, how much I’ve changed, and how much I miss my old battles. I don’t miss the youth, but the friends—the family I made along the…
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Twelve years ago today, my life changed forever. My oldest son, Milo, was born. Over the years, I’ve watched him grow, nurtured him, disciplined him, played with him, protected him, taught him, and done my best to earn the title of Dad—a title that has brought me the greatest joy and fulfillment of my life. Every…
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My job can be exhausting—both emotionally and physically. Many of the adolescents I work with are broken, untrusting, aggressive, and in pain. Some have deep issues with authority, are rebellious, antagonistic—some are outright violent. Others are spoiled, lack a sense of boundaries, or refuse to take direction. Children of chaos and brokenness, like me. But…
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And here you are again, resting your back against me Comfortable in my embrace, just how things used to be. On top of a mountain, in a quiet place, out of the way Where few are bound to tread, off any trail, is where I stay. We climbed up here, in days that have long…
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Have you ever stopped to wonder how the world sees you? How different that perception might be from how you see yourself? In my eyes, I am not a good person—just a person who tries to do good. To most, I am no one, just another face in the crowd. To some, I am a…
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Let me start by saying—I am not a “talented” writer. English was (and still is) my worst subject. Aside from a bit of poetry—which, let’s be honest, is a whole different beast—I’ve never been naturally good at writing. Grammar and punctuation? A nightmare. Turning my thoughts into polished prose? Chaotic at best. So, how did…
Ink & Shadows: The Words of Osiris j Reapor 