Humanity: Raw & Unfiltered
For as long as I can remember I always felt compelled to unleash my talents to the world. My Grandmother nurtured my artistic talents by being both my adviser and biggest fan. She would collect fashion magazines and teach me how to braid my hair. She and I were so Read more
I took a Method Writing class with the well-known Jack Grapes last fall, and I noticed a deep parallel with one of Jack’s writing techniques—called transformation lines—when I look at my life. He encourages us to use our transformation lines to go deeper, to find our voice, our narrative. I Read more
I spend most nights smoking parliaments in my parents’ hot tub, watching the smoke blend with the steam. Losing sight of which is which, of who I am, of what I need. The media tells me, thin bones, thick skin, long fingernails, short text messages, short skirts, tall stilettos. But Read more
I haven’t felt comfortable in my skin since I was a teenager. And this is odd to me, because when I was a teenager, I was disgusted by my reflection. Horrified and sickened, I would gag at the sight of myself in the mirror. I’m far from being a kid Read more
Don’t tell me I am too emotional to handle. Don’t tell me you love me just because you love my love handles. Actually, don’t ever call them love handles. My body was not made for you to hold on to. Grab onto. Pound into. If my body is all you Read more
Almost all of us have a part of our body we truly despise. I could tell you I hate my chubby rolls or my big booming breasts. But most of all, I have an ugly-affair with my hair! It all started 19 years ago. My mom took my sister and Read more
I know how to chase my tail, how to let my ego spin me into a tizzy. I know how to let my ego convince me that I was no good and that to survive, I needed to suppress my womanhood. I learned how to do that early. These days, Read more
A rainbow flag hung outside above the church. Inside, I was naked. I’d removed my glasses so the room was fuzzy. I couldn’t see them, but I sensed the pencils scratching away at paper, trying to capture my nineteen-year-old curves. The only thing in focus was me. I looked down, Read more
