my uterus is not a biohazard

My uterus is not a biohazard //OR// Why I am going to get birth control wearing a red supersuit flaunting a red period blood smudge.  The blood that pours, trickles, gushes and drips from my uterus is considered a biohazard. You know, the kind that they put in those sterile red plastic containers with the red cutting scythe…

their multitudes

A million asteroids of all genders called woman. Those are me. You raise an eyebrow. I raise mine. Must I remind you what woman means? Woman is the shaping of a skin, it is a face turned towards the wind, it is resilience. Woman is remembering oppression directed at that skin and that face. Woman…

~disgusting~ bodies, speak thy power!

or: gross is the new fierce and i love rupi kaur My sweat stains and I have become intimate through long fellowship and shared struggle. I have leg hair and armpit hair and sporadic chin hairs. I have stretch marks on my thighs. Once every 50 days or so, gooey blood flows out of me for a week straight. My…

don’t you dare call me beautiful

We are our fear and hope and courage and pain and love and doubt and anger and salty, dripping tears mixed with snot, sweat and redemption. To recognize us for who we appear to be instead of who we are actively being is to deny, in a way, the truth of who we experience ourselves to be.

hypochondria

I. being a hypochondriac is a feminist issue there must be something wrong with me                         wrong with us always and especially when most functional for what else are we? we, such sorry, dependent creatures if not to need, if not for always needing      nurturing  …

Uteruses R Us

This past weekend, I went to a natural gynecology workshop. I arrived at a little past 10 on the sunny Saturday morning, to a sort of retaken community space with a big lawn and some skattered, run-down buildings. There was already a group of women sitting on a little half-sunned patio chatting and making themselves…

{28.3.15} friction

How can we talk along friction lines? Feel out the clash without crashing… and burning? This is a question I’ve been asking myself a lot lately. I keep on reading about feminism, about heteronormativity, the hierarchical gender binary, internalized sexism, daily microagressions. And then I have conversations about this, all gung-ho with my new knowledge, with guy…

{28.2.15} bodies and power

There’s this book of idioms I got for my birthday one year called “I’m not hanging noodles on your ears.” It’s got goofy phrases from around the world that quite sharply contrast cultural differences. The only one I still remember is “you’ve got thighs like banana tree trunks”, a way to tell a woman she’s…

{26.2.15} strong

Feministing is my new favorite pastime. This means that catcalls bug me more than a lot of people, but on the upside, it’s opened my mind to the ways that women can be empowered. You know, I kind of judged Beyoncé for a while because I felt like she was just another one to oversexualize…