Ronna Russell
Writer. Truth-teller. Feminist.
The Uncomfortable Confessions
of a Preacher’s Kid

Latest posts
Blog posts appear in reverse chronologically, so start with
“Loose Demons” to get the whole picture.
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,...
Campering 2.0
The next day we hiked to a waterfall in the sweltering Tennessee woods, a journey of mosquitoes, whining meniscus, and arthritic toes. But we were out there, man. Our much fitter friend tactfully stopped occasionally to take pictures, allowing us time to sweat and...
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.