Anyone who follows my writing should know by now that depression has been a struggle of mine for almost 20 years. My issues stem from a horrendous self-image and a perpetual state of stress. Shout out to being a Pisces. Anyway, my issues nowadays are much better. I still have my down periods of worry … Continue reading Suffering Happiness in Silence
Why do we love our mom? Because she put up with us, that's why. You had moi, the eldest, who was basically the Vanessa Huxtable of the group because while I didn't mess up often, when I did I messed up BIG. Case in point, I only ditched school once in her care. I still … Continue reading To Mom, From Her Offspring
Sigh…you gotta love great storytelling.
I love being able to express myself in writing.
It feels more accurate somehow than speaking words. Talking for me can sometimes feel like playing tennis with a colander; I mean, it’s possible, I can do it, but it’s not ideal. The ball goes over the net, but just about. It goes where I want it to go… more or less. I can’t be sure it’ll hit it’s mark, but I can hope. Later, I’ll go home and think about how I could have done it some other, better way.
Writing is different.
Writing is a tennis racket. When I’m writing, I have the time to think about what I’m trying to say, and then mentally flip through millions of words looking for the one that slots into my sentence like that Tetris block you’ve been waiting five minutes for; the one that gives you a combo and wipes the…
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I'm going to go ahead and get the obvious out of the way: My opinions about single mothers and Father's Day are exactly that. Opinions. Take what I say with a grain of salt if you must, but I assure you I am not alone in this. So, let's jump right into it, shall we? … Continue reading Dear Single Mothers: Father’s Day isn’t for You
Let's get one thing out of the way: Don't call me a homegirl. I can be your friend. Your bestie. Your woman. I'll even accept casual acquaintance. But if we're cool, and you're a guy, you are not to call me your homegirl. That's an irritating slap in the face. I can already sense some … Continue reading The Plight of the “Homegirl”
I cannot call myself a feminist. The reason why was not an easy or quick revelation for me, but I can remember exactly how it happened.
I am forever lying to myself. I lie when I say I'm fine. I lie when I say I am rested. I lie when I say I don't miss you. I lie when I say I'm not hungry. I lie when I say I've had enough. I lie when I say my money is right. … Continue reading Liar
This. Just this.
I remember writing (and illustrating) my first book at nine or ten years old. I wrote it on typing paper that I had cut in half then folded and stapled the pages together. I even drew the front cover. That was my first book, Lily the Lemon. Today, I don’t remember what it was about and the book has most likely been recycled into something. I’d given it to my teacher. She asked me to read it to the class then afterward I gave it back to her. It wasn’t a class assignment. It was just something I did because I wanted to. The “sharing with the class” part was the teacher’s idea.
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It's not what you think. The young singer's song "Problem" plays constantly in my workplace. Enough so that I've begun to think there has been an exchange of money between Ariana's camp and my employer. I refuse to believe that "Problem" will play every three songs like clockwork without someone getting paid for it, but … Continue reading What Ariana Grande Taught Me About My Little “Problem”
So you love him, but you don't trust him? You'll share your body with him, but you won't let him into your innermost thoughts? You say he's different from the rest, and yet you still compare him to every man who's hurt you? How does that work? I know the first few lines insinuated that it's women … Continue reading A Personal Look at Insecurity