When the Body Breaks Its Silence
“Women’s bodies, I was taught, must be a special kind of strong. Women’s bodies must quietly endure.”
Six months after giving birth to my second child, I was gaunt and sallow, shedding pounds and unable to put them back on no matter what I did. Those who knew me well and spent a lot of time with me could see I wasn’t well, but others—people who were just seeing me for the first time after my pregnancy, or those didn’t see me often—felt compelled, as many often do upon seeing a woman who has recently lost weight, to remark on my transformation.
This blood is not me. This pain is not me. I am empty, I am floating, I am free.
The Life of BirdsPlease sleep, I just need a day,maybe two. I’m almost out of the woods.
Good,I just need one more day.
Crime and Punishment
She cried out, but very faintly.
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“I saw that God I’d been so determined to believe in not as an absolute, but as a construct that couldn’t take a joke.”
“My parents had a shared language I didn’t understand, messes I couldn’t always be there to tidy.”
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On the day when two pink lines stared up at me, I wondered which set of events I had set in motion. A baby? Or not a baby?
I do not believe in a soul but these past six months of illness, I am guilty of dislocating, of clinging to magic. Of wanting relief. Of being sick of being sick.