A Priest Called Me Promiscuous and I Cried Tears of Joy

How confession was key to my mental health

St. Joseph’s Shrine’s stations of the cross in Brooklyn, Michigan. Photo curtesy of author.

It wasn’t the first time I had come to talk to this priest. We’d met privately a couple times before. I was going on my fifth consecutive year of pain, fear, and misery. There was no end in sight.




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Tracy Stengel

Tracy Stengel

Writer and freelance fiction editor. Find me curled up w/ a blanket of metaphors or at www.tracystengel.com. You can buy me ☕️ at https://ko-fi.com/tracystengel

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