Midway through the lengthy introductions, my timely menstrual interruption came like an anatomy lesson on leadership: feminist politics infused with blood.
Do you create a reality of peace, or do you stay in victimhood because you’re 'right'? No one has power over you unless you give it to them.
She is the foam-born woman, and she is a tidal force to be reckoned with. She is wind and rain, and she was raised without the benefit of innocence. She is a self-protective dead stare, and she will not be asked to smile or giggle in the name of propriety and manners. She does not think herself ...
When people think of the stereotypical feminist, their thoughts seem to turn to a beast of a woman. She is impolite and unshaven. In fact, she is unkempt in all ways. Since she thinks the world hates her, she hates men -- the sex that put her in her place. Yes, this is extreme, but after ...
I found my roommate hemorrhaging at my feet. And as her blood spilled, my blood was set aflame. A long, slow simmer. A lifelong flame set steady and sure, fit for endurance. The flame of the divine feminine was lit for me, there in that startling, sorrowful moment.