Kallissa Bailey

“Catherine was right. Estrangement is not freeing. It has not felt joyful. It has not been happy. It has only felt necessary, and even that is something I question all the time: Does this make me selfish? Does it make me cruel? Then I think of the Thao Nguyen lyric, You made a cruel kid. Come look what you did.”
― Stephanie Foo, What My Bones Know: A Memoir of Healing from Complex Trauma

“During one of our infrequent dinners, he had a revelation. After an awkward pause, he stammered, “I’m afraid I ruined your life.” It was the closest he ever got to admitting fault. He looked so small underneath his too-big white polo shirt. He had always been fragile, but now he looked it. “You’re very lucky,” I said. “I turned out fine.” But still, he must have had the sense that there were amends to be made. Because months later, he asked me, “What can I do to be closer to you?” “I don’t know,” I said. “Make a list,” he replied. “Make me a list of what you want, and give it to me, and I’ll do it.” I never made the list. I didn’t make the list because I was confused about what to put on it. What would fix things? Was there really anything that could make up for what had happened?”
― Stephanie Foo, What My Bones Know: A Memoir of Healing from Complex Trauma

“You don’t know why? You honestly don’t know why?” “Tell me in one sentence why. I just want to hear one sentence.” I said it slowly. “Because you don’t love me.” “What do you mean I don’t love you? Tell me what that means.” “What does that mean? Abuse. Neglect. And you used me…”
― Stephanie Foo, What My Bones Know: A Memoir of Healing from Complex Trauma

“He didn’t answer. He’d stopped calling months ago, now that I’d helped resolve his relationships with his family. I waited and I waited. My phone stayed silent.”
― Stephanie Foo, What My Bones Know: A Memoir of Healing from Complex Trauma