Humanity: Raw & Unfiltered
This is the first installment of a new and exclusive series here on Feminine Collective called “Women Who Inspire.” As an ongoing series, it will feature women from all walks of life and will endeavor to tell the creative and inspirational stories of their daily lives. Recently I interviewed Kate Read more
My mother comes to pick me up from kindergarten and is pulled aside by the teacher. “Your daughter doesn’t color between the lines.” “She knows how she just doesn’t want to.” One week later, the same conversation repeats. So, my mother chooses another school for me—my mother, who dropped out Read more
The question I dread the most as a grieving mother is; “How many children do you have?” It’s not that I don’t know how to answer, it is all the questions that follow. I’m immediately forced to decide whether or not I want to reveal more intimate information than the Read more
Back in college, I lived on campus in a cramped, two-bedroom apartment. The white paint had dried dripping in places, so the walls looked like they were eternally crying. I had three roommates, one of whom pronounced the word “blatant” horribly wrong, like “debutante,” as if she had a bad Read more
You are better than that, so much brighter than spewing and spitting rhetoric. You are morally responsible and dignified.
Honor is your middle name.
Youth, pay attention you are our
Salvation.
I have written a million poems about my body. How she couldn’t stay in her lane, fit in her assigned container, listen to directions. How she never did what was expected, lived in the fray, wandered endlessly from ship to ship.
He had already locked the front door so she couldn’t escape, couldn’t open her cage.
Perhaps he uttered a prayer to whomever murderers utter prayers too. Perhaps he gave last rights to himself, took communion, had a last meal, said goodbye to his mother, brother, sister, children, the cats.
I was so stupid when I found out I was pregnant. I had no idea. I was 14 years old.
That I didn’t know missing my period meant pregnancy. Do I need to be ashamed? Do I have to tell you how many pills I swallowed to hide my shame? Do I have to tell you how it felt to have tubes shoved up my nose as they pumped my stomach at 15 years old?