The best thing my parents ever did was kick us out of the house. I get strange looks when I tell people that. I think they picture 5 barefoot innocents roaming and starving. They half-laugh uncomfortably in hopes that I’m kidding. Then that blatant pity stare washes over their faces. They want to pat my back sympathetically like … Continue reading »
Contrary to the flat, thud design of these caveman feet, I was a dancer once. What began as an opportunity for my mother to get an hour-a-week break from my spazzing self transitioned into an hour-a-week chance for my spazzing self to put a rhythm and heartbeat behind my moves, to believe just for a … Continue reading »
Along the way I stumbled upon an enticing promise of a flat belly, drank cabbage soup for three days, watched my pooch deflate, and then gained three pounds when I sniffed near an Arby’s. Enough is enough, Internets. These fast-fix tales are false. You whispered sweet nothings in my lazy ear for far too long. I threw down a plastic tarp, strapped on my rubber gloves, and set out to do the dirtywork. I mean bathroom business.
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“Imagination is everything. It is the preview of life’s coming attractions.”
I wanted to tell that little boy me that it was okay to not be the same. That one day her short hair will be the trend, but by then she won’t worry about what’s trendy. She couldn’t have known that hair wasn’t what made her a Her. I would tell her all about sappy romantic movies and the anatomy of vaginas and all those other things that let us be ladies.
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