It was a terrible shock to realize my actual memory of my dad was supplanted by the written representation of this memory. And what’s worse, this version barely sparked any feeling in me. This material of “us” had been worked over so much that it didn’t hurt anymore. Which is maybe what people talk about when they say writing heals. I was no longer someone to whom this story happened; I was the author of this story. I wanted to comfort my friend, to express empathy. But my emotions were rubbed smooth, like a piece of sea glass you find on the shore, sanded by years of currents. Alysia Abbott

https://www.bostonglobe.com/2025/10/10/opinion/fairyland-movie-alysia-abbott/