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Nonfiction

This post was written almost a year ago and never published. At the time, I was working to come to grips with expectation versus reality when it came to my recovery from surgeries and illness and what that meant for my body and the way I see myself. I never published it because I wrote several pieces around this issue, the strongest of them being “Female Seeks Power” which was published on Open Thought Vortex Magazine. This piece is much more interior and is true for me today as I work

I will be revisiting older content through the New Year as I focus on the two personal projects I have excitedly undertaken. It’s fun having secrets. These projects aren’t huge. One really is a basic step I should have already taken but never prioritized.  The other is an endeavor I’ve been excited to implement on my own–at least this aspect of it. It is important for me to work independently periodically, especially since most of my work is completed with and for others. In a way, Project 2 is a relief project I

Today, Open Thought Vortex Magazine published a piece in which I come forward about an assault I’ve never publicly shared. I chose to do this there for a number of reasons. One is that OTV is dedicated to elevating voices and conversations which have primarily come to include issues of survival. The other is a history of trust and love. While I may have left my editorial position at OTV, it still has a place in my heart. It was such a privilege to be invited to support OTV. Watching it grow

The morning chill hasn’t been enough to quell the heat of anxiety as it blooms in my belly upon waking. I fight dread off my chest and scrape myself off the bed as worry turns itself up. I have worked hard daily not to listen to fearful thoughts. Attention feeds them and then they grow. But today I found getting up easier even though the chatter was already present and rising. I got up feeling safe in myself, so I listened. It’s not easy to separate the threads of fear, and

Wednesday morning, my boys asked the result of the election and began assembling a nuclear fallout kit. We couldn’t catch them. They tore through the house gathering canned foods and Nerf guns, certain this election spelled doom. “Will they know I’m of color?” my eldest asked me not long ago. I cried over the question. He was talking about the police, a group he is likely to run in with as he grows due to his neurology. “High functioning” is code for “normal-looking” when it comes to Autism. The term

Oh, America. I have loved you from birth but today you have let me down. Me and countless others who look to you for safety, freedom and progress. I woke up wondering if I had slipped into an alternate reality. I wish I had so I could claw my way back to safe purchase. I have never been so disappointed than to wake up and learn that fear has won. I had such hope. Now I have anger and sadness, a bitter mix. What will become of us? I can

Intentional coach, writer and speaker Alexis Donkin has been a profound resource in my personal healing. Our relationship began over a year ago when we connected over writing and shared interests. I read her memoir, Thrive, and found myself in her story. I was inspired by her practical approach to transforming odds into evens, so to speak. She has a rounding off outlook on life that is effected through the realization and reframing of negatives into positive growth points. I had the pleasure of a face-to-face chat with her via

Our experiences impact how we became who we are, but our experiences do not define us. For example, I have children, but I am far more than a mother. I was abused, but I am far more than a victim or a survivor. I have had work published, but I am not only an author. In fact, I’m not even the same person I was when I wrote the published piece. Writing it changed me. Instead, I am all of these at once, but I am also something else: I am

Worry can consume our creativity if we let it. Writing is therapy for me. I teach it as a tool in the self-care kit. Denying myself writing is denying my own recovery, and I have met and worked with many others for whom this is true. This is why I frequently find myself advising that we write now and worry later. Shove the concern about who will see our work if it will even be seen at all and just get it out so we don’t become buried in our

Trigger warning: sexual abuse, domestic violence, rape Recently, when I watched the now infamous video of Trump bragging about grabbing pussies, I was reminded of one man in particular: my stepfather, Tom.     Tom used to crawl into my twin-sized bed and lay next to me while wearing his white briefs.  Tom used to speak of wishing I were ten years older so he could marry me. Tom told me once, with much vengeance in his voice, that he wanted to break me in a way he’d never been able

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