Uncategorized

Writing Is My Soul Candy.

photo-1429032021766-c6a53949594fThe period at the end of the first sentence is a sweet drop of honey water on my creative spirit.

The warm liquid pours down my being, as the letters tick out of my fingers, being woven into words.

The words synchronize—releasing my fluidity—freeing my mind.

When the mental stagnation melts away, my spirit animal opens her sleepy foxy eyes and flicks her tail in sync with my rhythm.

She begins to dance, feeling her skin tingle as the beat picks up.

A call goes out to her soul group to join her in flowing into the throbbing inspiration.

She moves with different companions—asking them secret questions, devouring bites of their wisdom.

Slinking from one dancing partner to the next, she travels further down the trail.

Read more on elephant journal.

Self Love, Uncategorized

How I Stopped Failing at Femininity

Bailey 2cropI used to be shackled by distorted notions of the meaning of my vagina.

I thought it required I be docile, unconditionally pleasant, agreeable, subservient, visually appealing and shiny—but not too shiny—I wouldn’t want too much attention.

I didn’t know how to do any of that. I thought I was failing at femininity. But really, I was failing to grasp what true femininity was.

These were private fears. A secret shame in my feminine nature. My mother was, and is, a feminist who kept her last name when she married my father, worked passionately for Planned Parenthood and refused to be shoved into a box of archaic social expectations.

Read more on elephant journal!

Self Love, Uncategorized

Please, Remind Me to Cry

I crave my tears.

I want to taste their cathartic salty elixir in my mouth.

I want to swallow my sorrow.

The smiling is making me ache with repression.

I need to release the fear. The doubts. The screaming insecurities.

I need to feel them sliding out of my soul.

Please don’t enclose me in your soothing embrace.

I don’t want to be soothed.

Read more on elephant journal

Self Love

How to Be Perfectly Imperfect

11036220_10153235577287033_4615141852708667765_o

I used to wake from a dead sleep, crawl out of bed and slog into my closet to ensure my shoes were properly lined up.

I once declined joining my family for a beach day because I “needed” to clean the stove.

In fifth grade, I cried when I received a B in math.

The fruitless pursuit of perfection used to devour my joy. My tunnel vision only allowed me to view the imperfect minute details that needed tweaking, while real life lived outside that tunnel.

I experienced blips of relief when everything was “in its place,” but these moments were fleeting and were quickly wiped away by a new email flush with to-dos, a small human walking into my home and living life, or the general passage of time.

Read more on elephant journal! 

Self Love

We are Allowed to be Happy.

When the bud of complete happiness begins to bloom I’ve become conditioned to whither the bloom with thoughts of why I’m not allowed happiness in that moment.

I’ve become an unintentional master at procuring negative thoughts that serve to diminish, or even eliminate, that beautiful flower of joy.

Why? Why must I diminish the bud, the bloom and the flower? What would happen if I passed through the resistance and found myself in the still state of allowance? I choose to allow happiness.

The freedom of this choice came to me one morning when I was sitting under a comforting gray sky, holding the hand of my child in a rare moment of stillness and silence. We were soaking in the fresh grass that had surprised us after the last rain, and I felt complete happiness beginning to unfold within me.

This unfolding progressed, until I remembered that it wasn’t allowed. I had let my child watch a television show hours before, while I made a long phone call, and as a result, had guilt stewing in my gut. So, there was no place for complete happiness if I was still holding onto that guilt, right?

Read the rest on elephant journal!