Streaks of gold sift through the slits of wood as I wake to feel the warmth caress my face.
Lips brushing against my forehead with silken kisses gently encouraging me to open my eyes.
A quiet conversation while slowly sipping cinnamon tea. I feel the heat in the curve of my hand as it transfers from my favorite ceramic mug.
Bringing me peace as I embrace the tranquility of the moment. The aroma enveloping my senses and perfuming the room.
I casually let my fingers slide over my wardrobe as I create my ensemble for the day.
The beauty of feeling unhurried and able to relish in the pleasure of selecting garments showcasing my individuality.
I fold my body into my girl, a brilliant blue Jeep, made naked as to relish the scents of spring and the whispers of the wind.
The destination not the priority. A leisurely excursion to escape the restlessness.
Taking in the warm breeze on a sunny afternoon. The radio playing my favorite songs, bringing back memories of times past.
The path followed as I sail through the countryside leaving thoughts of my younger years and dreams left along the way.
Stopping midday at a favorite cafe to indulge in a meal with my closest friend.
The conversation bringing joy to my soul as we talk lightly and laugh loudly without reservation.
Smiling as I head back home with the hours on the backside of the day. Time moving slowly and shadows appearing as the miles drift by.
I lace my shoes and head out into nature to indulge in the solitude of running alone. This too invoking feelings of pure satisfaction.
Allowing for silent meditation and a chance to release the burdens held within. The one true moment of peace as I feel the calmness radiating throughout my body.
As day cascades into night I welcome the quiet of the evening with the one I hold dear.
Welcomed home with a sweet embrace. The beauty of detailing our day in an encouraging exchange.
The sun slowly fading and capturing the last remnants of this beautiful moment in time.
I climb into the comfort of our bed with the arms of my beloved pulling me near.
I drift off knowing I wouldn’t change a thing. Time stands still as I recall the perfect day.
Thank you! I’m hoping to be able to one-off print him a chap book of poems he’s inspired so he’ll always remember how much I loved him when I’m gone. I’m not dying, though, don’t worry! 😊
Ciao,
I quite enjoyed your piece and you portray the blessing of children quite well. I can feel your emotion and the vibrant essence of your relationship behind it. Very beautiful!
I wish I could wake up in the morning
To a house that’s prepped and made
No dishes or mess to clean up
The laundry is folded and put away
I wish that I was understood
That my efforts were noticed
And in return the context clues I love to scatter
Get swept up by loved ones
Offering to return the favor
I wish that I could walk the streets late at night
No mace or pepper spray in my line of sight
My keys are meant to unlock my door
Not clenched between my knuckles
Waiting to be bore
I wish that I could shake the hands
Of each passerby I encounter
Grinning widely from cheek to cheek
Exchanging pleasantries and
our hopes for the future
Morals aligning and feeling at ease
Knowing many people feel the same as me
I wish I had one perfect day
To rest and partake in hobbies
No work to stress
Just reading my favorite books in hotel lobbies
I would sing and dance and play in the rain
No anger left, no unresolved pain
Because womanhood is often a burden
That at times feels like a tyrant warden
Patiently waiting until my time is served
And knowing my aptitude is mildly absurd
But I often hope for the little things
Because to me they feel like extraordinary wins
And when this mindless duty is fulfilled
My perfect day will be without guilt
Your words resonate deeply, Vequez. Your wishes for a peaceful and carefree day, where burdens are lifted and joys are embraced, are shared by many. May your dreams of understanding, safety, and simple pleasures become a reality. Your vulnerability and hopefulness are truly inspiring. Keep holding onto those little moments of joy, for they bring…read more
In the realm of politics, they stood so tall,
A mentor, a friend, guiding us all.
Their wisdom and passion, a beacon of light,
Inspiring us to fight for what’s right.
But fate had other plans, a tragic twist,
A car rollover accident, a life dismissed.
Yet their spirit lives on, in memories we keep,
Their legacy forever etched, in our hearts so deep.
They taught us to be bold, to stand up and speak,
To fight for justice, for the voices weak.
Their absence is felt, a void hard to fill,
But their impact on us, lingers still.
So let’s honor their memory, with every stride,
Carrying their torch, side by side.
Though they may be gone, their influence won’t cease,
For their spirit lives on, in our pursuit of peace.
Rebecca, your heartfelt tribute to the influential figure in politics resonates deeply. Their legacy lives on through the passion and wisdom they imparted. Let us continue to honor their memory by carrying their torch and striving for a better world.
In a world of doubts, like a Rubik’s cube,
Some wanted to peel off labels, misconstrue.
But within me, colors danced bright,
A puzzle unique, a mesmerizing sight.
Therapists spoke of limits, an unkind fate,
But my parents, they didn’t hesitate.
They knew the stickers, they wouldn’t be torn,
Their love, like glue, strong and reborn.
Teachers, allies, in my journey of might,
Saw my puzzle, each color so bright.
From Special Ed, to mainstream flight,
They saw the pattern, beyond black and white.
I found my voice, embraced the hue,
A rainbow within, a story anew.
Now a mentor, lending my hand,
Guiding others to understand.
My tale, a Rubik’s cube so bold,
Unpeelable stickers, a story untold.
I stand here, a beacon, shining true,
Empowerment’s force, breaking through.
So here’s to us, each color, each side,
For every woman, a unique ride.
May my story echo, inspire the new,
Empowering others, to be true.
Sheesh! Rebecca, this is insanely good! I love this. So inspiring and empowering. You and only you know your limits, and you’ve clearly proved you have none. Your writing is really good. Just curious, what are your dreams/career ambitions?
My mother is an amazing writer and I take after her in that aspect she is absolutely amazing and doubt her writing and I would love if she published her things too.
Thank you Shelly! I had fun writing this one and was inspired by a school art project my son did where he had to make a collage portrait using images of flowers and fruit. LOL. He did a great job.
Ricardo, your letter is amazing! It’s a reminder to look beyond appearances and value the qualities that truly define a person. Let us strive to develop inner beauty, for that is what truly lasts and leaves a lasting effect. Your words inspire us to focus on personal growth and the beauty that shines from within.
Who am I? A mere mortal; a body of flesh and bones that moves amongst earth until it’s buried beneath it? Am I more than the blood in my veins or the organs within my vessel?
Who am I? A glistening sphere of light; a soul that brings joy and peace to others lives? Am I more than my empathy or the love within my heart?
Who am I? A deck of cards; the many faces that bring luck and abundance to some, but fateful defeat to others? Am I more than the value that others put on me?
Who am I? The Earth’s moon; the phases of darkness and illumination that pierce the cracks of my shadow? Am I more than the waves and chaos that I create?
Who am I? What is my purpose? To accept the fact that everything is temporary and attachments are unnecessary? To bring a sense of comfort and calmness to my inner and outer world? To show others that they all have a bright light within them, even if it may have been dimmed or distorted along the journey?
Who am I to judge anyone, including myself, when I am just a human being like you? Who am I to shame anyone, including myself, when we’re all guessing and learning along the way? Who am I to know what’s best for anyone, when the only shoes I’ve walked in are my own?
Who am I?
I am me. I am a person full of anger and sadness that weighs heavy on my body. I am a human full of flaws and imperfections that make me unique. I am a woman full of strength and kindness that pours from within. I am a soul full of empathy and compassion that overflows from the depths of my heart.
I am light, even with the shadow.
I am love, even with the heaviness.
I am peace, even with the chaos.
In life, we are so many things, and experience so many different things. You are a wonderful person with a beautiful heart. And that is what is woven into every aspect of your story on this journey we call life. <3 Lauren
This was such a powerful. The imagery caught my attention right away. Thank you for reminding the world of what it means to be human. Thank you for sharing your work.
Dear reader,
I still struggle with body dysmorphia.
But in 2021, I started wearing tiny clothes. For the first time ever.
I’ve been many different sizes since my teens, but I’ve always been shaped the same. I was a chunky kid, or a curvy girl. Even in the height of my eating disorder, my bone structure never changed. The shape of my scapulae, the curve of my rib cage, or how close its end is to my pelvic bone’s beginning; these parts of me don’t move, so size didn’t always “fix” things. My fat distribution never changed much, either (hormone problems also contribute to that). I was always a “thick thighs save lives” girl with a big butt, even if there were less adipose cells than before.
I felt deformed. Being raised in the early 2000s, this meant my whole life was a story of “Clothes Never Fit Right”. A story of my mom buying me women’s clothes at age 14 because the clothes my peers wore were too small. A story of being laughed at when I wore low-rise skinny jeans that gave me a “plumber butt”. A story of being called Britney Spears by a classmate because a button-up shirt I wore that day was a bit more form-fitting. (Which is a ridiculous insult, by the way. Britney is a queen.) It was also a story of seeing women being vilified for having a body that looked like a body. Every woman had to be paper thin.
When I was 11, the 2007 VMAs splattered the news with Britney Spears’s performance. My dad nonchalantly said that Britney was “maybe skinny for a mom but still fat for a woman”. He said that to his 11-year-old daughter.
I was insecure for so, so long.
Then comes 2021. After a pandemic shutdown that kept most of us at home for months, I’m an adult. I’m well past the eating disorder. I’ve graduated college. I make my own money. Screw it, I’m now just going to wear what I want. I’m officially not dependent on anybody else.
I wore Aerie leggings with a crop top. This was a new combination for me, and one that was trendy at the time. I was self-conscious at first; and worried about what my mom would think. She never would’ve let me leave the house wearing something like that growing up. I had been wearing the oversized T-shirt and Nike shorts combination for years.
I definitely spent way longer than I want to admit still sucking in my tummy. I spent way longer than I want to admit worrying about the shape of my butt, or my thighs rubbing together.
But it was so comfortable.
So over time, I adjusted.
My belly was out, every curve and line where everyone could see. My butt looked phenomenal. My thighs were being gently hugged by each other and the leggings with every step. Even my back rolls played peek-a-boo if I needed to reach something from a high shelf.
You could see pretty much every part that I’d been forced to hide before. I was the most visible I had ever been.
After a decade of either squishing everything in with Spanx, or completely hiding under a babydoll dress: leggings and a crop top freed me. I finally saw my body in real time. Every soft bit, I knew exactly what it looked like. I knew exactly what I looked like.
It took a while to make peace with certain parts of myself. But I could finally look at every part of me and look at every part put together to form the whole of me and be okay with it. I could finally see me and my body without shame and contortion.
My body dysmorphia is not gone. That part of me may not ever fully heal. But I made progress I’d never made before, because of this. Because of Aerie leggings and crop tops.
This particular method may not be for everyone.
This was the first of many times I’d leave my comfort zone. It definitely felt funny to start. Growth never comes without discomfort.
Looking back now, though, it healed me more than I thought it did.
Maggie, While, based on my math, I am about ten years older than you, so much of this resonated with me. Those early 2000 years/late 1990’s thins was in, and I felt that same pressure, and I faced similar struggles as you. Someone said something to me while I was in college in NYC. She said, “Nothing looks as good as healthy feels.” That, somehow,…read more