Twenty years ago, I was a poster child for codependency. After decades of peeling back my layers, I discovered what they now call relationship attachment issues.

It’s uncomfortable to reflect on that girl, the one who desperately controlled her family and friends.

I smell a skunk.

I'm sprawled out on my fluffy peach bedspread fumbling over my algebra homework after school when I inhale something funny. I scrunch my face and sniff.

“What’s that smell?” I yell to my brother Brad. He’s in his room next to mine, supposedly working on a model airplane. But that’s not what the air smells like.

I recently devised an opportunity to assist a lost driver hauling a truckload of golf carts near the Sacramento Zoo in Land Park.

I’ll never forget my Christmas Eve lesson in enabling. That dreamy 1980 evening began full of hope and joy and ended in a nightmare for my family.

The holidays are blooming in big-box stores, and I'm apprehensive. I learned something about myself and holidays this summer.