Speak, Unwoman!

I am kin to the disobedient woman precisely because I am not a woman, because no one is correctly a woman, because everyone fears being a woman, because the woman striving to be a paragon will die by a thousand dull cuts.



RECENTLY PUBLISHED


Mother Chimera

When I woke in the recovery room after surgery, a nurse’s head hovered over mine. “It’s okay,” she said. “I had one too, and now I have three healthy kids.”
And just like that, I gained access to a world of miscarriages.


black and white photo of a person jumping off a cliff into a lake

Falling Days

If upward progress is a romantic idea we try to build our lives around, then so too are falling, celerity, this wild and fickle freedom.


photo of a smiley face made out of candy

American Smile

I clenched my teeth, seething at this age-old American innocence, the belief that at the end of the day, Americans meant well and, really, that ought to be enough. Enough to claim the perch of fame, the pedestal of saviors.


photo of a silhouette of a seagull flying over the ocean at sunrise

Sweet Dreams

FEAR, the most horrible and barbaric fear. It had talons and wings and bore its fangs into each of us. It bled out veins. It was parasitic . . .


photo of an old, rusted, 1960s truck with scrap metal on its bed

Injury

There is no accident at the core of this so-called “essay.” Ok, there is, but it’s not what you think.


colored pencil drawing of a scapula and clavicle

CLAVICLE

I’ve classified myself and shaped my worth by my bones, by the skeletons of the people I used to be, and by the bodies of the people who left their marks on me.