For two years, Grandma knew what it felt like to belong. She had her own room, neighbourhood friends, family outings, and adults who stood up for her. Then even that home stopped being safe.
@bexxymov.bsky.social
@bexxymov.bsky.socialFor two years, Grandma knew what it felt like to belong. She had her own room, neighbourhood friends, family outings, and adults who stood up for her. Then even that home stopped being safe.
@bexxymov.bsky.socialIt was never really about the gifts.
It was about a lifetime of having things—and people—taken out of her hands, then being left to carry the consequences.
Trauma makes everything feel like the final straw.
@bexxymov.bsky.socialGrandma and Mr. O met in the early ’90s. They fought, drank, separated, reunited, went to treatment, survived homelessness, and somehow kept loving each other.
They never lived together again. He never really left.
@bexxymov.bsky.socialShe finally got a chance to rebuild what was lost.
Then she discovered that even the space where she kept it safe wasn't really hers.
A new piece of Never Made It Home.
#NeverMadeItHome #IndigenousStories #Regalia #FamilyTrauma #IntergenerationalTrauma
@bexxymov.bsky.socialTomorrow, Grandma returns to the powwow, but she won’t dance.
She tells me about the people who taught her to keep dancing anyway, the art she and Mr. O made together, and the ones she still carries with her.
He will be watching.
@bexxymov.bsky.socialGrandma says she needs her house in order to think. So she pulls weeds, cleans, organizes, and tries again. But with three young adults, up to five dogs, two cats, and a house full of things, the mess never seems to stay gone.
@bexxymov.bsky.socialGrandma was sent to Indian Day School at four years old. When she could escape, she went into the bush, where she could play, look for snakes and salamanders, and simply be a kid.
For Grandma, the bush was freedom.
@bexxymov.bsky.socialA grandson tries to help. A $700 water-bill buffer disappears. Then Grandma finds her way back through music and dancing with Ode. #NeverMadeItHome
@bexxymov.bsky.social13 moves in 9 years. One credit short of graduation. Grandma still wonders what kind of life she might have had if someone had simply let her stay.
A new piece from Never Made It Home.
#NeverMadeItHome #PsychologicallyMessyStories #NarrativeNonfiction
bexxymov.substack.com/p/the-life-s...
@bexxymov.bsky.social🖤 This week in psychologically messy.
📖 Never Made It Home, my Indigenous intergenerational nonfiction story, plus books, cats, dating, desire, grief, and questionable decisions.
Basically, the usual chaos.
@bexxymov.bsky.socialI never set out to write Grandma’s story. She asked me to. Six years of daily conversations later, we’re telling it one story at a time.
Sometimes, when there isn’t a story, we just talk.
#NeverMadeItHome #PsychologicallyMessyStories #NarrativeNonfiction
@bexxymov.bsky.socialGrandma's mind is tired. Her family's history isn't.
They Called Us Savages | Never Made It Home
#NeverMadeItHome #PsychologicallyMessyStories
bexxymov.substack.com/p/they-calle...
@bexxymov.bsky.socialGrandma went to rehab twice. The first centre failed her. The second helped her get sober. Now her grandson is going for six weeks.
She hopes it's still like that.
Six Weeks — from Never Made It Home. #NeverMadeItHome #Recovery #PsychologicallyMessyStories
@bexxymov.bsky.socialGrandma learned to protect her children in a world that had rarely protected her. Then, finally, she found a home with a yard, a driveway, and security of their own.
Never Made It Home continues. #NeverMadeItHome #PsychologicallyMessyStories
@bexxymov.bsky.socialAt 18, Grandma was told her past meant she might become the mother who hurt her.
She refused to believe it.
She couldn't change the past. But she could choose what came next.
She Wasn't Her Mother — from Never Made It Home.
@bexxymov.bsky.socialShe kept running as a teenager.
She just didn't know what she was running from.
“Running Away” — the newest piece from Never Made It Home.
@bexxymov.bsky.socialSometimes home isn't a house.
For Grandma, sometimes it's the music, the dancing, the ancestors, and the freedom to simply be.
“Finally Home” — paid subscribers on Substack.