I am crumpled up on my kitchen floor, head in hands, hiding beneath a soundtrack of Fernando Ortega and Bifrost Arts, hoping my kids don’t notice I am weeping, It’s holy ground, but it feels like falling apart.
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reframing femininity
I am crumpled up on my kitchen floor, head in hands, hiding beneath a soundtrack of Fernando Ortega and Bifrost Arts, hoping my kids don’t notice I am weeping, It’s holy ground, but it feels like falling apart.
Read MoreI look at the clock hanging on the wall in the physical therapy center and see that only 45 minutes have passed. I am torn. I have another 15 minutes of exercises to complete, but I am ready to stop. My body is shaky and sweaty, and honesty, I feel nauseous. However, I have another…
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