Whenever I find someone who's in need of healing, never do I hesitate to answer the call. But what happens when the lines of love are intertwined with morals and profession?
Who heals the healer?
*The use of photos or gifs do not belong to the writ...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Amare : /aˈmaː.re/ - is Latin for "to love."
The sun blares unto my skin as the ocean waves crash upon the shore. Adjusting my large sun hat, I smile. Yearly family vacations are beyond exciting for me, especially since it's just my husband, our daughter, and I.
But this vacation is extra special. We're celebrating our baby's third birthday today and I couldn't be happier.
Sending a response to a group message to my two crazy best friends, looking up I catch the hazel-brown gaze of my husband, as a smirk slowly creeps upon his lips.
All I know is if he keeps eyeing me, our little one may be getting a sibling created tonight.
"So sunny." I squint after removing my sunglasses, but as I start to reflect back on my life, the journey hasn't always been so sunny.
Oh wait! Where are my manners? Lost perhaps. Allow me to formally introduce myself. My name is Mia. Wife, lover, mother, daughter, sister, and therapist. Did that last one throw you off? Yeah, that happens a lot.
Okay, enough with the introducing. How did I get here you wonder? Well, let me tell you my story. Shall we rewind?
