Ronna Russell
Writer. Truth-teller. Feminist.
The Uncomfortable Confessions
of a Preacher’s Kid
The Uncomfortable Confessions of a Preacher’s Kid is the story of a childhood controlled by the brutal hand of a narcissistic, closeted homosexual. I believed I could leave my upbringing behind and walk away unscathed. I married a closeted homosexual man, in hopes he could keep me safe. As our sex life and bank account dwindled to nothing, fear kept me silent. In the meantime, my father died of AIDS. The pain of his death fractured my biological family, and I clung to my husband and children, creating a cocoon that became a prison. Eventually, I was forced to see my husband’s homosexuality and refusal to work, realizations that brought me to the breaking point. I found the courage to be alone, to take care of my children no matter the cost, and the joy of my own sexual freedom. In the process, I fell in love with my own life.
Latest posts
Blog posts appear in reverse chronologically, so start with
“Loose Demons” to get the whole picture.
Straight Enough: a memoir
A friend and fellow writer from my former hometown writing group has released her memoir, Straight Enough and I gotta tell you, this book kicked my ass. The lengths we will go to to deny ourselves, the stranglehold of fear and ego, the twisted mindfuck of...
Always Waiting
I am waiting for the call telling me that my mother has taken her last breath and I do not know what to do with myself. I am not sure how to spend this time. I walked the dogs, bathed, ate breakfast, doomscrolled, stared at my phone, ransacked boxes of old photos,...
Then It Got Weird
We headed south, stopping at a winery in Alabama that looked like this: Then to Gulf Shores which, predictably, looked like this: Then to Tallahassee: And finally to a much anticipated pecan farm in the backwoods of Georgia, where we intended to stay for a few days,...
About Ronna
I was raised the daughter of a preacher in the cult of the United Pentecostal Church. It was an oppressed and repressed environment that never felt right. The experience shaped my formative years leaving me ill-equipped for life in the real world, but life in the real world happened anyway. Like everyone, I have had some successes and some failures. The stories I share here are my own, for no purpose other than to make sense of it all in the end.