Ever since having a child, mortality is on my mind a lot more than usual. I have always known life is precious, not guaranteed, too short, and all the other appropriate and relevant clichés. But now having a daughter, it’s like a daily, (literally) screaming reminder of how much there is to miss out on…
I have always been a people pleaser, it’s simply ingrained in who I am. This doesn’t mean I don’t speak my mind, engage in conflict when necessary, and follow my own intuition and desires– it just means that my knee-jerk, automatic response is to make others happy and do/say what I know will please them.…
I want to be alone I want to be with people, even the loud and stumbling and belligerent ones Don’t touch me, I’m claustrophobic Hug me tightly and hold my face in your hands, even if they’re clammy I need a routine I want to live each day different from the last I want to…
I used to do this thing where at the end of the year, I’d post some of the foods, products, and random things I loved and enjoyed over the past year. I haven’t done it in years, and yes it is only August, but I decided to make another one of these posts because quarantine…
I wrote a poem. It’s geared towards elementary school-aged children…the kids who are going back to school virtually, or doing a hybrid model. That is…until the schools get shut down again and everybody is virtual. It’s hard on parents. It’s hard on teachers. It’s hard on the kids. It’s just hard. Feel free to print…
People start asking you very soon after having a child if you plan to have a second one. A harmless and understandable question, sure. But it always sends a shock through me. I know the socially appropriate way to respond, so I smile and give a lighthearted, “Maybe!” or “We’ll see!” Sometimes if I have the time…
The following poem was written by a friend of mine who attended a protest in Louisville, Kentucky yesterday. I have read it several times over, and each time I find something new in it to love, each time something hits a little differently. Thanks, Jas, for your beautiful words. Your bravery. Your insight. Your compassion,…
I sat in the lobby waiting to hear my name. Mismatched clothes, slippers for shoes, bloated and empty belly resting on my striped thighs. I couldn’t look at the glowing women around me, I wondered what they might see in my face? Terror Exhaustion Apathy Sadness Counterfeit joy Envy Anger Confusion Physical pain Emotional pain…
In the way that you cry when you’re tired and lonely, I am reminded that I can do the same. In the way that you allow yourself to be held, comforted, and kissed by someone who loves you, I am reminded that I can do the same. In the way that you continue to eat…
