Childbirth is Madness - My Husband Tells His Side of the Story

There are many different ways to tell a story.
On Medium.

Helping Your Kid Create Diverse Art

My third piece published in Art & Parenting is called Helping Your Kid Create Diverse Art.
I write about representation in children's books as well as drawing time with my kiddo.
Snippet:
"I picture children of color (and, in this case, every kid who isn’t a white girl with longish straight hair) seeing this picture and fearing that the magic isn’t for them. The unicorn is dreaming of little white girls. The unicorn isn’t dreaming of them."

Amazing marker drawing Tzivia drew of me, her mama!

Read it here!

My First Published Piece in The Writing Cooperative

The Writing Cooperative just published this quick piece about the anxiety of waiting on a publisher when the story you're trying to share is your #metoo story.

A snippet:

The hope was that publishing my story would help others with their own #MeToo stories, untold or otherwise. I wanted to empower others. I wanted to feel more empowered myself.

Maybe I didn’t think this through, though, submitting to a publication: I literally gave a man the power to accept or reject my #MeToo story.

You can read the whole thing in The Writing Cooperative publication on Medium.

art by my kiddo

Online Yoga Saved My Marriage

I wrote this one a few months ago and submitted it to Modern Love. Actually took the time to do some editing, using the very helpful Modern Love submission tips.
So here's Online Yoga Saved My Marriage, my Modern Love Reject, which thankfully P.S. I Love You snatched up and published immediately! I get personal about our marriage, and I share with you the amazing yoga videos that have made such a difference in our lives.

My Rapist Wrote Me an Apology.

This is a really hard one to share, mostly because I would rather my mom never, ever had to read any of this.



But I believe that by sharing our stories, we are stronger, we can heal. We are always getting stronger. We are always healing.

Writing this was one piece of that healing for me.

I have been going through the stages of grief this past week and a half since the Kavanaugh hearing. Bargaining, Anger, Denial, Depression -- everything but Acceptance.

The day he was sworn in, it was all about Denial. Previously glued to the news, I knew the vote was coming, so I shut myself off from internet news and NPR. If I didn't hear it, then it wasn't true. I made it to night before I mentioned to my husband that the vote was supposed to be that morning but I didn't know what happened. He told me they confirmed him. Still, I told myself we were probably confused, and it was just some committee vote or something.

Denial.

When it comes to my personal story in this piece, I'm mostly at Acceptance. It still disrupts my life, perhaps conjuring disproportionate responses to small breaches of consent that I could otherwise overlook. Fight or flight.

It weaves together with other things that have happened to me, like the man who full-on choked me without warning during a first-date kiss, and when I struggled to escape, let go and said, "Fine, we'll work up to that."

If it was just one story, or if my friends didn't all have stories, or if society didn't keep showing me that powerful men can do anything to anyone and half the country will just hand them more power over us, then I could Accept.

But right, now, I Dissent.

Here's my story: My Rapist Wrote Me an Apology.