cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
The day I got my first period holds the distinction of being one of my most humiliating memories. I was totally unprepared and felt terrified that the presence of blood signaled my impending death. Looking back, my lack of awareness is hard to fathom. I was the third of four girls in my family, so…
Read More
My parents asked me if I had any questions. But, I simply nodded no and told them I understood what was happening.
Read More
I was thirty-four years old when I began trying to figure out how to have “the talk” with my oldest daughter, who was turning ten that year.
Read More