A Secular Childhood: Letters to My Daughter — No. 29 “Treatment”

Dear daughter,

I am writing this letter at a treatment center for eating disorders in Chicago — four hours away from our little house in Toledo.

Deciding to come to treatment and leave you behind was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. While it hurts right now, I know I will be a better mom when I am well.

Daughter, I hope you are never in this situation. If you are ever struggling, know that you are never alone. Don’t wait to reach out for help.

I love you more than anything. You are beautiful inside and out and you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone.

I think about you every day and I can’t wait to come home.


Going Away for Treatment

Thursday morning I am going to be admitted to a treatment center in Chicago to get help for my eating disorder. I don’t know how long I will be there.

I’m going to have to slow down a little bit.

However, I am taking a bunch of journals and I plan on filling them up. I’ve already written quite a bit about this experience so far. I’ve been to hell and back in the last few weeks and I’ve documented every fucking minute of it. Every time the shit hits the fan I think, “maybe this will be a great book one day!” Then it’s like I can step outside of myself and just observe. I don’t know if any of that is healthy but it seems to be getting me through. 

I am taking my Chromebook with me and I plan on blogging when I can. It just probably won’t be as frequent.


Happy holidays! I’m off to kick some eating disorder ass!

Santa vs. Jesus

Do the little ones in your life believe in Santa?

I’m not a big fan of Santa. It may be fun but it’s still lying to your kids – just like people lie to their kids about Jesus. They’re both imaginary entities with empty promises.

I recently saw a meme on Facebook that said: Why doesn’t Santa bring the needy kids toys? For the same reason Jesus doesn’t feed them.


I didn’t want to tell my daughter about Santa, but my husband was really into it. She’s five and I can see the wheels turning. She’s asking questions like, “How does Santa get into our house? We don’t have a chimney.” I don’t think she’ll believe for much longer.

I was her age when I stopped believing. My older sister showed me presents under the tree already labeled “from Santa” and it was several days before Christmas.

I was actually really mad that adults were lying to children. A little later on in elementary school I wrote an essay about how I felt and apparently my dad got a call from the school. I’m not sure whatever came of it.

Friends of my parents back home didn’t tell their kids about Santa because they didn’t want them to question Jesus when they found out Santa wasn’t real. 

I think it says a lot when you can compare Jesus to Santa. There are definitely some parallels.

Do you think Santa vs. Jesus is a far comparison? 

How do you feel about the whole Santa charade? Did you do it with kids in your family? Did you believe in Santa when you were little? How did you feel when you found out he wasn’t real?