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Tara DeYoung

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2025

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18 Followers
1 Following

27 Stories

451 karma pts

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One Shoe Curve

Weekly Contest #329

Managing Sam’s mother and her unyielding expectations during our first year of marriage was a burden I hadn’t fully anticipated. For every family member’s birthday, every holiday, and every Sunday, Susan expected us to be at her house for dinner without fail. On holidays, she also assumed we would attend their church service. What should have been a warm family meal and meaningful church attendance turned into an uncomfortable obligation—a ritual meant to maintain appearances rather than strengthen family bonds. Conversation was minimal, the...

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Red Flags

Weekly Contest #328

Tara“You’re not seriously going to wear an off-the-shoulder dress, are you?” I heard Susan’s voice behind me, booming through the bridal boutique.The chaos of wedding planning often felt like a whirlwind, but Sam and I had quiet moments of connection, which made the gauntlet of bridal boutiques tolerable, even with Susan.I’d asked her to accompany my mother and me, hoping to appease her. But it wasn’t working.I froze, meeting her critical look in the mirror. Her voice was authoritative.I ran my hand over the raw silk skirt. It was the first ...

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Becoming Wicked

Weekly Contest #327

The hum of LaGuardia airport always grated on my nerves, a crude assault on my refined sensibilities. This latest pilgrimage, ostensibly for the Big River Symphony – a mere pretense, of course – was solely for my benefit. I had insisted, and my daughter-in-laws would obey. Tara, Sam’s wife, with her transparently selfish motivations, feigned enthusiasm. Broadway, "retail therapy"... such trivial pursuits. I saw through her meager charade. She thought herself so worldly compared to me. Yet they all craved my approval, my benevolence, Tara, th...

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Emotionally Manipulated

Weekly Contest #326

As I stepped into Dr. Regan’s office, the sharp scent of antiseptic stung my nose. The fluorescent lights were too bright, and the buzz from the medical equipment was a sound I didn’t want to hear.I didn’t want to be here.I’d spent years ignoring the signs—the headaches, the fast-beating heart, the tiredness that never went away, no matter how much rest I got.I remembered the evening I almost passed out in the kitchen, holding on to the kitchen counter to ensure I didn’t fall. Sam had glanced up from his phone as if I were a drama queen.“It’...

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Letting Them

Weekly Contest #325

Sam rubbed the back of his neck, the familiar tension a knot between his shoulder blades, as he set his phone on the end table with a clatter that was louder than he intended. The glow from the screen, now face down, seemed to emanate a residual heat of frustration.“It’s just so unnecessary,” he said, the words heavy with exasperation. “My mom’s endless guilt trips. Dad’s sermonizing crap about forgiveness, as if it’s a switch we can flip. Their behavior hasn’t changed, not an iota, nor have they offered a single genuine apology. It’s just m...

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Finding Words

Ashley, my therapist, sat across from me. Her voice was quiet yet firm. She seemed to hear my thoughts before I spoke them, lowering her head and leaning toward me.“Tara, this has been a long time coming,” she said with a kind authority. “But remember, you alone can’t fix your marriage. There are two of you in your marriage, and without Sam’s willingness to try, this toxic cycle and generational curse will only continue.”Deep down, I knew she was right, but her words left me fearful, prompting me to wonder how I had reached this point. A dee...

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The Unraveling

Weekly Contest #320

Another day.Truman nudged me again, his silent encouragement pulling me back to the present.I straightened my shoulders, wiped my cheeks, and released a slow, steady breath. The woods were waiting. My life was waiting.I reached into my pocket and took out my phone. I texted Sam:I sat on the fallen log, with Truman panting beside me. All I could hear was the rustling of leaves, and Truman, my English cream Golden Retriever and loyal companion. I knew I wouldn’t have gotten through the last two years without him by my side. He pressed his wet ...

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My Mental Circus

Weekly Contest #318

We attended DeYoung functions a few times a year, which was the minimum we thought we could get away with without Susan’s demands for more. Unfortunately, holidays were nonnegotiable. This Christmas arrived in our household like a carefully rehearsed play, hosted by us but directed by Susan. Jerry Jr. had perfectly wrapped the presents under the tree, dinner was immaculate, and the smiles on everyone’s faces felt as artificial as the tree in our foyer. Tate, Sally, and Jack tore through their gifts excitedly, but a sickness settled in my sto...

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Unchanged

Weekly Contest #317

Even now, after all we have been through, we have tried to point out that the dysfunction continues."You haven't changed a thing in how you run this company," Sam slammed his fist on the conference table. "We have begged and pleaded for succession planners to be brought in, yet you can't hear a word I'm saying." His brother, Mark, looked at him blankly, his ears turning red.It was the same blank look Sam used to give me when I would talk to him about his hurtful behaviors. Sam understood now. It had taken him three long years of therapy, whi...

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Shedding the Mask

Weekly Contest #316

The fourth generation of the DeYoungs was born last week. Because we are in a "no contact" phase with the family, no one has shared any details about the child. Should I write a letter to my sister-in-law about the mental illness I see in our family? Does she genuinely not see it, or is she too afraid to speak up? If I did write her a letter, this is what I would say. I open my computer and begin to type another chapter in the DeYoung saga. The title for this chapter will be, Shed the Mask. Monica,I’m writing to you because I care about you,...

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Expected Attendance

Weekly Contest #315

The smell of a birthday cake, once a symbol of celebration, now carried the bitter taste of obligation. August 20th was approaching, along with the annual performance of the "grateful family" for the patriarch's 89th birthday. But how do you honor a man who was a silent accomplice to your pain, a man who consistently chose the path of least resistance, sacrificing his family’s well-being for a fragile peace? How do you celebrate a father who enabled his covertly narcissistic wife, allowing her to weave a web of emotional abuse that ensnared ...

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Time To Let Go

Weekly Contest #314

"I can't sleep," my mind racing with the same continuous battle I had had my entire married life. I hadn’t spoken with Susan since her birthday in March 2021, and since then, if I was near her, I avoided all contact. Sam and I were just going through the motions of being married. The cool tile under my feet sent a shiver down my spine as I stepped onto the lanai, even though the Florida sun warmed my skin. The wicker chair creaked as I eased into it. The chair, once comforting, now felt restrictive—like the rest of my life. In the distance, ...

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