Flipping the Narrative

I was first a daughter who was born to a beautiful young mother near Sarita Vihar, India. My First Mother loved me deeply, and she called me hers. I was then an Orphan, as I was unjustly separated from her arms. I never knew my First Father’s face or arms, and for that I grieve.…

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Escaping Wonderland

“Off with their heads!” the short-tempered, fiery-haired female screeched. My mind recalls watching “Alice in Wonderland” as a young, impressionable girl. I was fascinated by the whimsical story, enthralled by my childhood curiosity. Now a mature woman, my curiosity pulls me back to the scene when Alice meets the Queen of Hearts. I ponder why…

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Turning Toward Hope

I’m standing in front of my closet, swapping heavy, dark winter wear for the brighter, lighter garments of spring. When the annual exchange is complete, I begin to look through a neighboring rack of dresses, nearly untouched during the last year spent largely at home. I pass by one, two, three black dresses before I…

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May You Walk as the Woman in White

Who is the Woman in White? Is she you? Is she me? What does it mean to be the Woman in White? Is she respectfully standing in solidarity with other women as a declaration, or is she the ghost of a beautiful woman who was once scorned or betrayed? Does she represent purity, virginity, goodness, light,…

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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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