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space for my tears
I hurt my finger on Friday morning. Badly. At the time, I was rushing to get my kids to school because my older daughter slept through her alarm and needed a ride. My roommate asked if I was okay. I told her yes but in actuality, I was in tremendous pain, the kind of pain…
changing the room of my mind
There’s so much I want to say. So much I could say about friendship, and belonging, and how care (or the absence of it) feels deep in the center of my being. About feeling dehumanized so often. Objectified. Plunked into the fantasies and projections of men who said they loved me but didn’t show me…
the (un)measured life
Let my life not be measured by gold or productivity or towers built for someone to later knock down Instead, let it be measured by the number of kisses on my neck, my forehead, my lips (and elsewhere). Let my life be measured by the number of times I have heard or spoken the words…
my short skirt and embarassing assumptions
The other day a woman at my daughter’s school was telling me about the book I am an Emotional Creature: The Secret Life of Girls Around the World by Eve Ensler. She told me she wanted to loan it me and thought I would enjoy it. She told me one particular part of it reminded…
do you see?
Dear Bluebeard, It seems you decided somewhere along the line that I am the perfect girl to fit into that little space in your pocket in your life– –that little compartment in your dreams, or your fantasies where things are tidy and YOU get your needs met. (Do you see ME?) To my brothers: I…
please forgive me
“I have abused my power, forgive me. You mean we actually are One?” I wasn’t in the mood to study French so I listened to this entire album while biking around the lake the other day. Biking lends itself to deep listening so I heard every difficult word of this song. So good. I’ve been…