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Could be that it’s the day before my period and hormones are assholes. Could be that my mom’s second deathiversary is coming up. Could be that the girls were cruel to each other today and I thought it was because I’m a bad mom.

Could be all of the above.

At any rate, I was driving around town tonight, stuffing my face with bread, listening to 90’s gangsta rap and trying to cry. I couldn’t. Just had that heaviness on my chest, that pancake in my throat. I was staring ahead at a red light, bread crumbs falling out of my mouth, when I saw a gaggle of teenage girls looking at me and laughing. 37 year old white lady in small town Montana eating baguette out of a paper bag in a dirty Subaru that is literally vibrating with the bass while Snoop Dogg is calling everyone all kinds of names.

Clarence had told me to leave, take some time alone, while he was watching a movie with the girls. But the library was already closed, so I just came back home and now I’m sitting in bed, writing, while they’re eating popcorn in the living room and I have no reason to be sad.

And yet, I am.

For nearly seven years now, I’ve felt silenced. I left the Mormon Church and got divorced in 2011, finished my degree in 2012, and moved in with Clarence and our kids in 2013. At the time I had a blog about my exit from Mormonism that my ex attempted to use…