Gilead

I've been doing a lot of deep body and soul work lately. I had this post in mind, the post I wanted to write about this deep, aching work I've been doing before today happened. Before lines were drawn and cuts went deep and shit hit the fan. I've never felt emotions in such a physical way as I did today. Work was extra hectic, a conversation pulled the Band-Aid off of wounds that never really healed in the first place and I felt in my body every one of the emotions I felt in my soul. I ached, I kept staring at the clock willing the hands to move faster, I didn't use my gentlest voice when the little people who just want my attention acted out and I spent longer than I should have staring into space, lost somewhere in my head or in my body. After work I wandered the aisles of the grocery store, knowing if I went home I would be too full of nervous energy to relax and would just make myself frantic with the feeling of being trapped. I looked at things I didn't need ...

The day it was announced that Donald Trump would be the next president of the United States, I was in a cold hospital room that looked more scary than inviting, waiting for the insertion of my IUD. It felt like the most vulnerable, womanly thing I could be doing on that day, something that was equal parts empowering and terrifying, as the United States elected a man who said he "grabbed women by the pussy" as their next president. I've had many days where being a woman felt vulnerable. But on this day, as I was waiting half naked on a cold exam room table for an act that would define my near reproductive future as well as an act of me taking back power over my sexuality, it wasn't just about me. I felt the ache of all the other women in my bones, the ache of women who may not get to make choices about their reproductive futures, women who now live in a country where their president grabs women by the pussy. I don't even live in America and I feel unsafe. I couldn...

I've been putting off starting a new blog for a while now. I think mostly because I was afraid. I want this blog to be a space of real honesty and vulnerability, and I was afraid I couldn't commit to fearlessly showing up and telling the truth. Sometimes I'm still not sure I can. I held the dream of this blog, this space, this idea of Gilead in my head for a long time and it never felt like the right time. I could always justify waiting, always claiming that there was someone out there who could say the things that needed to be said better than I could. But here's the thing. There can be the same story told a million different ways but in the end you still get a million different stories. No one can say what I can say the way I can say it. No one has the same outlook on the world as I do. This blog is to be just that, my story. It is my act of brave, my fearless showing up to this one, beautiful life I have been given. I blogged at mercymiracle for a while, probably ...