I’m the Feminist Who Wears Makeup.
My mom used to tell me about watching her own mother put on makeup before going dancing with my papa. She remembers watching her in girlish awe, marveling at my grandmother’s beauty. I put on...
My mom used to tell me about watching her own mother put on makeup before going dancing with my papa. She remembers watching her in girlish awe, marveling at my grandmother’s beauty. I put on...
Lessons from growing up as an identical twin: This isn’t a statistical fact, but just a general perception: twins seem a lot more “normal” today than when I was growing up, as a twin. My...
Sometimes motherhood feels like punching a time card. To be fair, I only vividly remember doing this at one job. It was my first job, where I worked as a seamstress, and we had...
Have you ever noticed that memories often have hazy, golden fogs around them, and that Instagram’s editing filters are often hazy or blurred? I’ve noticed lately that we’re all over-using the haze, y’all. And dreams,...
The feel of tender, young grass between her squeezed-tightly fingertips was primal. The tug, uprooting them, connected her with a fiery anger that she didn’t know her belly housed. Then, momentarily afterward, she’d feel regret...
I’ll admit to being a mother who once rolled her eyes when other moms couldn’t have playdates because it was “nap time.” Not that I’m unaware of the extreme importance of keeping regularity within a child’s...
I want so many things for my children. They aren’t what I typically hear other parents say. I don’t fantasize about my children being grown up and married with kids. I don’t daydream that...
I’m about to have two little ladies running around my house instead of just one. (I’m expecting a girl.) And raising a girl is nothing short of a blessing. But sugar and spice and...