I own my beauty. I am beautiful. It took me a damn long time to get to this place, but it is here that I am firmly rooted and have been for some time. I do not come close to meeting the beauty standards for women in this society. My hair is long and wild and usually unkempt. My belly is big and round. My ass is huge, my thighs are heavy, and my tits are small. But here I am, still being beautiful. Continue reading
When people talk of climbing mountains or running marathons, they are often high-fived or congratulated for their great accomplishments. When I actually dare to tell people about the ways I challenge myself, my stories are often met with silence, even disdain, from those who can’t seem to understand why I would do the things I do to myself. Continue reading
My 40th birthday is fast approaching and I can’t help but think about age. Age is a number that has so many assumptions wrapped up in its little digits. There are assumptions about how a body should function, what it should be doing, and how it should be dressed all based on age. These assumptions and expectations are not just on the body, they’re also imposed on how a person should act and what kinds of things they should enjoy. Continue reading
I woke the morning of Tuesday, May 22, 2007 to a horror nothing could have prepared me for; my eight-week old son, Cyrus, had died overnight. My sleepy, sing-song, morning greetings to my baby were met with lifelessness. My memories of that day are mere flashes of moments: Continue reading
Unruly Bodies 