Zero Tolerance, Real Boundaries: A Mother’s Stand After Her Son Fights Back

complain when the food was moldy. “Good” meant you didn’t scream when boundaries were crossed, because if you screamed, you were “emotionally unstable,” and you got moved to a group home. I had learned to swallow my “no” until it choked me. I had learned that my body was a bargaining chip for a roof over my head.

I looked at my son. He was trembling,continue reading …