Like a Prayer
August 2020 | LGBTQ+

Like a Prayer

When things got tough, she knew just what to do. Pray, pull over and reach for every tool

Back in 1982, I limped down the stairs to the church basement. I didn’t believe AA could possibly help. I was a broken woman, literally. I had nine broken ribs, a fractured hip and a broken heart. I was 28. My only possessions in the world were a 10-speed bicycle and a knapsack. I’d been through hell and back. I was afraid to live and afraid to die, at that jumping off place with nowhere to go.


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