Shattering the Glass Kitchen

A man’s home may be his castle but the home realm has long been assigned to women.  A division of labor bucked with the feminist movement, outsourced by the wealthy, reclaimed with the Third Wave stay-at-home family CEO mom, but still much in the purview of women.  The kitchen, especially, is symbolic of this division.  Misogynists […]

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Yin, Yang, and Midlife Crisis

Since graduation I’ve felt a disturbing and persistent sense of disquietude. Bringing my attention to this feeling, I’ve tried to find its origin. It’s tightness in my chest and nervous vibration in my limbs, as if I’m ready at a moment’s notice to spring up and run. My jaw is held tense with the back […]

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Virginity and The Red Tent

I’d been meaning to read The Red Tent long before my last post on menstruation positivity, and prompted by a reader, I finally did after the New Year. (Spoiler alerts for those who haven’t read it.)  I remember reading about Dinah’s mention in the Old Testament, as part of a university class on militant metaphors […]

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Appreciating Menstruation

Woman’s curse.  Shameful.  Painful.  Pitiful.  Gross.  You can’t go into a mosque to pray when on your period because you are unclean.  This is what I was taught by society and religion when I was a pubescent girl. It didn’t help that my periods were excruciatingly painful and unmanageably heavy.  I wore adult diapers to […]

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False Identity

We construct many forms of identity.  An amalgamation summing to the concept of “me.”  Religious identity, sexual identity, gender identity, racial and ethnic identity, intersections of identities.  Conflict arises from seemingly opposed identities within a person and between people.  Macroscopically, identity conflicts wage wars.  Something of tantamount importance to us, yet also sometimes fluid or […]

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I Am Death

What I carry inside is a void. It is nothing. The vibrancy of creation, the possibility is absent. There is no sorrow. There is no joy. Nothing. The chasm threatens to absorb me. The death I carry within is incompatible with my life force. Slowly draining. I am not here, nor there. I am not […]

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Mother Hands

“You have a mother’s hands,” My husband said to me when our son was a few weeks old. I was holding a whimpering newborn, cooing and shushing in his ear, while gently stroking his back in a clockwise motion. “Do I?” I smiled, amused that I was now a mother. With mom hands. When do […]

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