PJ Temple

Sometimes sacrificing for tradition means sacrificing yourself. It creates guilt. It transforms into shame. It chips away at identity.

But this doesn’t have to be your story. And you’re not alone. You have community even when you think you’re the only one going through it.

Follow for excepts on my book about guilt in children of immigrants and how you can find your sense of identity.

Have you experienced debilitating guilt as a child of immigrants?

The everyday of immigrant families. Of fitting in, of glaringly standing out. In spaces of being, hurting, thriving. Our existence is in all and everything.

The psychology of it is layered and a part of who we and what the world around us becomes.

Sitting at the airport for four hours before my flight because that’s what the chaos of the moment is, uniformed shifty eyes hovering over unpaid staff trying to keep smiles on their faces.

But there are always, or almost always, spaces for gratitude. Like on this day, as I sat, I was reminded that the sun does eventually rise again. We rise again. Over and over, love rises again.

Dedicated to the women in my life, and the ways I love your sweet and spice, your power, your beauty. We are each other’s. We are the alchemists.

Happy Women’s Day to all the beautiful souls. Care for you like you care for everyone else. 💜

When religion is absent of sanctity, tradition without care, discipline without compassion.

From my upcoming book on the psychology of being raised on guilt, and seeking identity despite it.

A piece on how the thing we dread becomes the very thing we wish we can grasp over the continuum of time. Can you relate?

Thank you Spillwords.com for publishing this piece and the wonderful community you've created for writers.

When Mother nor Time Stands Still by PJ Temple at Spillwords.com Spillwords.com presents: When Mother Nor Time Stands Still, poetry by PJ Temple, a psychologist who specializes in trauma.

Love reigns over everything. Hope is a compass. The sun comes out eventually.

Love wildly, like overgrown forests. Because love always wins.