Some nights it’s true, there just aren’t any words, no pretty ones anyway. None worth showing to the world. None that even seem worth the pages of your journal. Just self-indulgent scrawls that amount to nothing. Some nights the silence is too heavy to hear through. Some nights no matter …
You can wear red lipstick and still be feminist as fuck. You can fall madly in love with your whole entire being, body and soul and still search for magical solutions for your undereye circles or your muffin top or your adult acne. You can be so solidly grounded in …
“Are you okay, beauty?” “Not so much, but it’s really something I should not discuss because it should never have been in the first place. I’m sure karma and her friends are raining down upon my head. I deserve to battle alone…” No. That is a lie. A lie that …
This week I got one of the most badass jobs in the world – I got invited to guest read the weekly Rebel Reading for my favorite-in-the-history-of-ever tarot card deck, Rebel Deck. Now – these ain’t your mama’s tarot cards, which means I got to dust off my ‘talks like a sailor” inner …
How long have you been waiting to tell your story? Not a week (rarely a day) goes by when I don’t hear from someone out there in this wild world of ours, someone just like you. Someone with a regular, ordinary, mundane life. Someone with joy and bliss and heartache …
This is a poem for the women violated, and for those who stand in support and love and solidarity. For partners, for lovers, for friends. For all those women harmed, and for all those who held and loved them in the aftermath. Maybe not perfectly, maybe not with unfailing grace, …
I woke up this morning Slowly Reluctantly And this familiar heaviness settled into my being The weight of all things For which I hold responsibility And even those for which I am not Responsible But insist on claiming as weight As mine to carry Out of some Misplaced sense Of …
Today, when I went to my car To go meet my good friend for coffee And to visit another friend And her baby Who we hadn’t seen in quite a while I looked down to see a feather resting on the handle of the door A little feather Tiny, really. …
This is a love letter for the writers… Hey you. You who writes. You who keeps on writing. You who pours out your hurt and your joy and your bliss and your ways of being and existing and understanding onto page and screen. You who hits the submit button again …
This is my first morning without the kids this week, and predictably, I woke from my internal 6am alarm clock. But today I allowed myself the sweet grace of a little more sleep, still smiling the smile I went to bed with last night after a much needed evening with …
