| This is the 564th story of Our Life Logs® | I was born and raised in Las Vegas in the 1960s as an only child. I had a wonderful childhood, but after getting pregnant young, I had to grow up fast. I soon found myself with a son, two daughters, and a man who I thought loved me to the ends of the earth. He controlled everything from where I went, who I was friends with, how I dressed, how often I saw my family, what I said, and even how our kids were raised. I never wanted to
| This is the 556th story of Our Life Logs® | My name is Mark Taylor. A bit about myself: I’m 23 years old, I was born in Concord Massachusetts, and, at my core, I’d say that I’m a student of conflicts. My own difficulties are one thing, but I love stories. Stories of monsters, epic battles between good and evil, and where the world hangs in the balance. Stories where people are forced into stressful situations where they’re forced to give up the things that they love for the
| This is the 555th story of Our Life Logs® | Not all storms come to disrupt your life, some clear your path. My path began 40 years ago. My parents tried their luck in Vegas and, instead of hitting the jackpot, they scored with me. I was born and raised in Sin City. The Flamingo Hotel and Casino was my backyard and striptease dancers lined the streets. As I grew, I bet you I tried almost everything there was to try in that town. I mean, being out among the drugs, gambling an
| This is the 549th story of Our Life Logs® | In 2007, I was born into a family that had an unspoken creed, and that was to follow your dreams. Before I was even thought of, my mom and dad had tried to get into the world of showbiz. Mom tried singing, and my dad tried rapping, and together they had such an amazing journey—one that I’m still learning about. Once I was born, however, my mom learned how much she loved being a mother. Even when our dreams change, we go for them.
| This is the 545th story of Our Life Logs® | Writer’s note: A very special “thank you!” to Shamsa Alsuwaidi for her invaluable help in translating the writer’s questions, and to Dr. Ali Shehata for translating Dr. Youssef’s answers—we could not have done this without both of your time and help! What does the world think of when they hear about my home, Syria? Do they think of exploding shells, destroyed cities, crying orphans in dirty bandages walking barefoot in empty stree
| This is the 544th story of Our Life Logs® | I don’t know if my story even matters, one of an illiterate woman from the slums of Pakistan. I don’t even think people like me are counted as humans to some people. I’m used to this because society always looks down on the illiterate and extremely poor. Still, I hope telling my story might make me, and so many others in the same state that I am in, feel a little better and understood. Where should I begin...Well, I was born in th
| This is the 540th story of Our Life Logs® | I used to always believe that everything happens for a good reason and that you have absolutely no control over it. I've always let fate take charge over my life, but when it came to death, I wanted so badly to be in control, just once. Loss does not discriminate. It comes for everyone eventually, leaving a hole left in your heart, soul, and life. But can one do anything about it? Of course not. I couldn’t, so, how could you? How
| This is the 539th story of Our Life Logs® | The first thing you need to know about me to understand my story: I am autistic. I was not officially diagnosed until two years ago, but my family and a few of my closest friends knew at least a decade earlier. My mother suspected this from my early years. That was the 1970s. Knowledge of autism then was not as extensive as it is now, and the psychologists evaluating me at that time said that I was “too smart” to be autistic. If t