Coming Clean: A Memoir by Kimberly Rae Miller

By Kimberly Rae Miller

Kim Miller is an immaculately put-together lady with a superb occupation, a loving boyfriend, and a tidy house on Manhattan’s higher West aspect. you are going to by no means bet that Kim grew up in the back of the closed doorways of her family’s idyllic big apple condominium, navigating among teetering stacks of getting older newspapers, damaged desktops, and containers upon bins of unused junk festering in each room—the made of her father’s painful and never-ending fight with hoarding.
In this relocating coming-of-age tale, Kim brings to lifestyles her rat-infested domestic, her formative years ate up by means of concealing her father’s shameful mystery from neighbors, and the emotional burden that eventually resulted in an try and take her personal existence. And in appealing prose, Miller sheds mild on her advanced but loving dating together with her mom and dad that has thrived even with the odds.
Coming Clean is a narrative approximately spotting the place we come from and the relationships that outline us—and approximately discovering peace within the houses we make for ourselves.

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I rarely went into the Bird Room—I hated the smell and the noise and the unaffectionate nature of the birds—and instead focused my upstairs adventures on the room next door: an abandoned bathroom where spiders had long woven their webs from the faucet and around the nozzles of the sink and bathtub. It was by far the most interesting of these forsaken spaces. The tub was lined with long-dried bars of soap and rusty razors. I liked to sneak up there with a fork and steak knife and practice my cutting skills on old bars of Ivory soap.

Buckle up for safety, buckle up! Buckle up for safety, always buckle up! “I can’t believe you’re making your daughter sit in garbage,” my mother said. Show the world you care by the belt you wear. Buckle up for safety, everybody, buckle up! ” My father said nothing as he returned to the driver’s seat. Instead, he turned on the car radio and let the news answer for him. TWO WHEN I WAS BORN, my grandparents ordered little bottles of champagne with my name, weight, and birth date on them. Brian & Nora proudly announce the birth of their daughter: Kimberly Rae Miller December 23, 1982 10:49am 3lb.

I said quietly, and looked back at my class to see if anyone was looking at me. They weren’t. In the hallway, the woman with the bangs told me that her name was Ms. ” Not what I had been planning, but still better than coloring by myself. I immediately started going through my repertoire of crowd-pleasers in preparation to wow her and make her my friend; my dad had just taught me to spell “antidisestablishmentarianism,” which never failed to impress, so I could do that, and I was taking karate so I could perform my kata for her.

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