Shame Walks into Steam

There is a place I like to go that makes me feel brave and beautiful. From the congested street corner you might miss it. If you didn’t know what to look for, you would be carefully watching for the tram or from which direction the long line of honking taxis will emerge first. You might…

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A Rebel’s Kryptonite

I had a meeting at a familiar hotel last week. We entered the parking lot in the same way, from the same angle that the unmarked minivan I was in had cornered the sex buyers so many years ago. My body flinched as it remembered the look in the buyers’ eyes, the slouched shoulders of…

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For Those Who Are Spiritually Homeless

I have a memory of belonging, of feeling at home.

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Learning to Listen to Myself

The hours are ticking down on the year and snow is blanketing the roads, sticking in clumps on branches and bistro lights. The inside thermometer reads a number as ridiculously high as the outside number is low, and I am still chilled to the bone. My husband and I are reviewing the year and finishing…

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I Love a Man Who Loves a Dog

I stepped in dog shit today. In a different pair of shoes because I stepped in it yesterday, too, and hadn’t had time to clean them. Yesterday, I was mad, but today? Today, I nearly collapsed. “I am a prisoner in my own home,” I moaned, head between my legs, trying to hold myself together.…

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If Wild Is Free

I have a black-and-white photo of my grandmother from the 1940s that I treasure. She’s dressed in pants and a flannel, kneeling in the grasses of an Oklahoma prairie, focused on something ahead. Balanced on her shoulder is a rifle of some sort. Her hair is short and curled, messy from the breeze. And though…

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A Toolkit for Women Explorers

Ours is a lineage of the road less traveled; the wild beyond and the risky unknowns; hope that propels forward buoyed by faith that remembers. She has led us through the years and courses through our veins. We are of the women throughout time and culture who have walked dusty plains, sailed turbulent seas, and…

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A Story of Love Lost and Found

A long time ago, I read. I read books I paid for that I wouldn’t need to review, to interview the author, or to underline because I was studying the plot structure. A long time ago, I wrote. I journaled, sent newsletters, started blogs (five and counting), and submitted articles. A long time ago, I…

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Shadowed Femininity

A dream within a dream. If I were her… In my dream, I wake to a day of expanse. Perhaps expanse is insufficient a word? Spaciousness? That might be more suitable. Because as I wake, my chest feels light and airy.

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Pain Points

True love is when he buys you an acupressure mat. Mine was black with gold trim, and came with a promise: He would attend to my hurting back in solidarity. Together, we would find relief, in 30-second increments of pain tolerance. And so, this is where I recently found myself—lying on my new, spiked mat…

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