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 […]Read more "Shattering the Glass Kitchen"
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 […]Read more "Yin, Yang, and Midlife Crisis"
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 […]Read more "Virginity and The Red Tent"
2015 has been a good year for body love in the media. I’m hoping the days of body type trends: Marilyn and Sofia in the 50s, Twiggy in the 60s, Cindy in the 80s, Kate in the 90s, and Gisele in the 00s, are no more. They’re all lovely, but expecting every woman to match an […]Read more "Self Love and Pop Culture Beauty"
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 […]Read more "Appreciating Menstruation"
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 […]Read more "False Identity"
You gave us joy for a little over a month. A tentative joy for me. From the beginning I felt something was wrong. I was reluctant to tell anyone about you. Then there was my sickness. Exponentially worse than with your brother. I thought I might be having twins. Or dying. Around a week or […]Read more "A Different Kind of Birth Story"
How in the world are these two categories related? Well, it’s coincidental mostly. It happens that in the last two months I got pregnant and had a miscarriage, and have experienced the struggles of being a vegan in a meat-oriented world through my best friend. She decided to become vegan a few months ago, after […]Read more "At the Intersection of Veganism and Miscarriage"
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 […]Read more "I Am Death"
“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 […]Read more "Mother Hands"