Learning to Let Go

Who is the woman in black? Is she you? Is she me? Is she a woman with stunning beauty, wearing a little black dress? Is she a woman hiding her body, hoping to distract you with a slimming dark color? Is she a woman in mourning, grieving a loss so deep? Or is she a…

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If Life Was a Food Fight

My critical eye takes in my form in the long oak-framed mirror as I tuck the billowy white top into my jeans. On principle, I don’t wear white. “White” is my lunch, make-up, and pit stains on display for the world to see. It’s impracticality, stamped with an expiration date.

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Wandering through Wonderland

Time. The word ticks and tocks loudly in my mind as I look back on my 32 years. I can see the chances I wasted from fear-based reasoning and opportunities never given despite my best intentions. I mourn the talents that never blossomed into full potential and the dreams I squashed because of other’s preconceived…

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