Youth and beauty are not accomplishments

I wrestle daily with identities slapped onto me with little care or thought. People refusing to see beyond my exterior, certain my essence can be boiled down to a single identity. And I struggle with waning identities, slipping from my grasp. In equal parts, I shed these identities and rail against their disappearance. And where… Continue reading Youth and beauty are not accomplishments

Task master A.K.A the bitch

I hold my phone to my ear. It rings and rings before my husband picks up. “Hey, what’s up?” he asks. “Did you ask your driver about driving us Sunday?” “No, not yet, forgot.” I scrunch up my face and hold my breath. “You’ve been with him all day.” “I know, I just forgot.” “Mmmhmm, mmhmm, but… Continue reading Task master A.K.A the bitch

Stripped

I wake this morning, head fuzzy from sleep. Rolling out of bed, I trudge towards the kitchen. Before getting the kids up and going, I glance at my phone. Notification after notification clenches my stomach until it’s a tight ball. I can’t read any of these articles. I swipe to clear and slam my phone down.… Continue reading Stripped

Punished for being disabled

You make the decision to have children, and from that point, your children consume you. You want to give them every opportunity. You want them to succeed. You ultimately want them to be happy and healthy. But when you’re a disabled parent, you’re often punished for daring to be disabled. My husband and I both have a… Continue reading Punished for being disabled

Woman is a dirty word

My nine-year-old is obsessed with Titanic. Really, all shipwrecks, but it all started with the Titanic. A single documentary I put on for the boys two years ago simply to occupy them, and here we are, inundated with books and documentaries and toys about shipwrecks. My husband and I discussed letting him watch the 1997… Continue reading Woman is a dirty word

F! I’m 40

I lay-out in the backyard, sun sizzling along my body. Bia and Nicki Minaj thump out my pink, portable speaker, giving me permission to rock this bikini. I’m 40; I’m a mom; Fuck yes, I’m wearing this bikini. Shit, am I 40? Today’s my 40th birthday. Forty years seeking an identity. Forty years defying expectations.… Continue reading F! I’m 40

Extending Disability representation: Removing sexism, ableism and white supremacy from our own representation

I often write about identity. My identity, specifically. How so much of my identity is wrapped up in body image and appearance. My mind and emotions wrestle on a daily basis, determined to erase one another. Only a handful of people know my inner turmoil. Rarely do I speak about the dysfunction whipping about inside… Continue reading Extending Disability representation: Removing sexism, ableism and white supremacy from our own representation