If my goal is to be an antiracist—not just as a badge I stick on my person for a nod & a smile from other white liberals but as a way of being that goes to the core not only of my actions but my beliefs and my ideas/thoughts—I’m going to be wrong a lot. A whole hell of a lot.
I peered warily down at my thighs oozing across the chair like pancake batter across a hot griddle. Gross. I glanced surreptitiously at the other girls sitting close to me. Their thighs behaved. Why did mine take up so much space? I lifted them up off the chair just a tiny bit, making them smaller.Continue reading “Don’t Buy What They’re Selling”
I’m a pretty shitty feminist. I don’t ground my writing in feminism because I’m deeply afraid of doing the whole thing wrong. Like I’m not academic enough. I don’t see the stamp of patriarchy & oppression in places where it’s so obvious to other feminists. But, look, I’m 45 years old. And I’m focused onContinue reading “Shitty Feminist”
Sunday morning, the (almost) 10 year old and I puttered about the kitchen. As coffee flowed freely from its pot into my waiting mug, I heard a tentative “Mommy?” I looked up at my child who was peering at me with a look of concern (and maybe a little gentle reproach). “Um… I think youContinue reading “No Slut-Shaming Here”
When I was a kid, being a woman seemed like some sort of secret, mystical state that one entered into when they were, say, 16 or 17. Like maybe I’d go to sleep an awkward adolescent kid and wake up graceful, beautiful, and smelling like Estee Lauder Youth Dew. Who really knew how it wouldContinue reading “Being a Girl in the World…”
I try to approach life with gratitude. I think Oprah told me to do that once, and I listen to Ms. O. Also, the AAers may have mentioned it…. So, yeah, Attitude of Gratitude over here. The gratitude portion of today’s programming goes something like this: I am grateful that my body is healthy andContinue reading “Toxic Masculinity Can Kiss My…”
I wish I’d known, from the time I was a little girl, that my worth was not defined by my relationship to boys–not whether I liked a boy, was desired by a boy, or whether or not a boy had ever stuck his dick in me.
The Temple of My Familiar is my favorite Alice Walker novel. I’ve read it several times. I’ll read it several more, as you do with the pieces that really speak to your soul. I find a bit more of myself every time I pick up that novel. The discovery is never painless, by the way. Just like it isn’t painless for her characters. But the work is worth the truth & liberation it offers.
All my life, I was taught to curry favor with men. That’s the honest to God truth.