For years, she believed love was something you endured.
In this deeply personal memoir, M.G. Taylor traces the quiet patterns that shaped her understanding of love long before she recognized them as patterns at all. Growing up in a home where alcohol softened some nights and sharpened others, she learned how to shrink to keep peace, and how to confuse inconsistency with depth.
When she later finds herself in an on-and-off relationship that mirrors the emotional instability of her childhood, the connection feels magnetic - and devastating. What she mistakes for passion is trauma repetition. What she calls devotion slowly reveals itself as survival.
This memoir explores generational coping, relationship trauma, mental health struggles, the complexity of loving those struggling with addiction and the complicated grace of loving a father who did the best he could - even when that best left lasting marks.
Raw, reflective, and unflinchingly honest, this is a story about inherited patterns, unlearning chaos, and choosing steadiness over intensity.