Calling Ourselves Home

I was sitting in a room full of men. Okay, this isn’t that rare, but I was taken aback at how uneasy I felt in the moment. In between some semi-offensive comments made by one man, and other talk that I couldn’t participate in, I realized that I had shrunk–I began taking up less and…

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Making Messes

Just a few hours ago, I was scrubbing dog poo off of the behind of my three-month-old golden doodle. There was poo everywhere: on her legs, on her tail, on her belly—not to mention all over her crate, her chew toys, and the blanket used to create a cozy space for her.

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