When Misogyny Ends.
“May you live in interesting times” is a great curse. “Interesting” is such a weighted word. I’d rather have come of age in less interesting times – the history I’ve lived through is full of such darkness. Vietmam. The explosions of the space shuttles. Various American wars. Tiananmen Square. 9/11. Lockerbie. Ecole Polytechnique. Sandy Hook. Sarin gas. And these are just off the top of … Continue reading When Misogyny Ends.
If mental illness was like a broken leg, people would help.
When I split from my son’s father, the lawyer gave me a piece of advice. Not unsolicited – I’d asked him how long it would take before I felt better. He told me that in his experience. it took about half the time of the relationship to pass before people felt fully disconnected from it. This didn’t mean that I didn’t move on. But damned … Continue reading If mental illness was like a broken leg, people would help.
dancing
it happens against my wishes at times since my heart is determined to embrace bleakness and despairing too often, but the feet have a will of their own. a bit of base, a crash of drums, some keyboard and guitar; mingling melodies that vibrate and transmute until all is movement. the head dips and the shoulders roll, the torso swivels in counterpoint to the hips, … Continue reading dancing
Embracing eating disorder recovery.
I was eleven when the eating disorder that had been stalking me succeeded in capture. Eleven years old and convinced that all the wrong feelings, fears, and insecurities would vanish if I could just get thin enough for perfection and protection. I knew I would be proud of myself when that day came, and why not? Who wouldn’t love perfection? I was promised a multimodal … Continue reading Embracing eating disorder recovery.
From Famine to Feast 