I’m not a Jesus ‘girl’. I don’t own property, don’t have people living under my stairs, emptying my chamber pot and boiling my eggs. I did not have my eggs frozen or inject myself with hormones, demanding that my body produce a tiny human. I am not a mother. I’m not your mother. No, well…Read more I Am Not a White Feminist
Dreams are deferred for all kinds of reasons; historical oppression, systemic greed, lack of resources, confidence, trust, motivation, sleep. At various points in my life I’ve assumed certain comforts and goals were unattainable for people like me; poor and spoiled. Not the ‘silver spoon in mouth’ kind of spoiled, but the rotten egg, inherently worthless,…Read more Behind a Glass Wall
Last night I came across an article on Publisher's Weekly; a writer was all up in arms because publishers appear to have stuffed literature into slutty outfits and given them all bad stripper names. That's a metaphor. Metaphors are like, really old. I've been researching iconic book covers as part of getting ready to be…Read more You’re Amazeballz!
You know the part of the story where the main character decides to ride or die? That's the part I wrote about, again, today. We're perpetually faced with decisions in divided roads. My stomach has been unsettled for the past month. Some mix of stress, work, genetics and my foolish, lifelong fork war. The gift…Read more Parallel Process
I overthink, overfunction and generally try too hard which gives way to exhaustion and eventually giving up until something happens and starts the cycle all over again. It's gotten better after twenty years of recovery and healing work; better but not perfect. Perfection is static, life is all about movement which makes it messy. Peak…Read more Good Enough
I’ve always appreciated this image but was recently struck by the number of ‘likeable’ elements; as if any privileged white person might see themselves in the face of the mother or her children and decide it's polite enough, even desirable, to empathize with. This is the image of hard times I can face and maybe…Read more Flight of Ideas
Barely visible are the fading marks from cupping I had last weekend. This is a fancy thing you can pay for or do it yourself at home with glass jam jars and a Bic. Apparently sitting at a computer is hazardous to your spinal health. So is playing with fire. My neck hurts. I really…Read more The Proposal
I'm officially writing the book after abandoning all codependent fantasies that the same elves who make shoes would show up one night and magically transform 5 years of blogging into a glitter-bound manuscript ready for submission. They would've also made me my own pair of signature boots; something feminine, with a heel, that I could…Read more Blooming
Writing is terrifying. When I tip-toed into blogging just over a year ago I hadn't found my voice yet. Words came out like rush hour into an emotional traffic jam. Being introverted doesn't help. I'm terrible at giving myself permission to be a real person who occasionally sucks at everything but writing seems to help…Read more Gross
Thomas Wolfe had hypergraphia. His editor was patient. The end.