In the Eye of the Beholder

I grew up feeling so inexplicably, overwhelmingly, excruciatingly ashamed of my body. Starting from the age of eight, I swam competitively for seven years of my life. Training twice a day, six days a week, I spent what felt like every moment of my life in the pool. And I looked that way too. […]


There is salt on your fingers as you enter. This salt, born of wounds, aged by generations. It is the salt of your mother and her mother, her husband and their parents. But not your father. His salt is of a different kind, that of which salts food left to mold, food dropped from raided skies, food for pale skinned blonde babies. A baby which you are not. But a baby, that yes you are. […]

The Things They Don’t Tell You

The 45-minute drive with my mom from my viola lesson to my brother’s hockey practice was silent, as usual. Having sat through that car ride every week for years upon years, I had memorized the names of every single street we passed, and the different shops along the sides of the road. […]

When All We Have is Eachother

I remember how my mama cradled me that night. I couldn’t sleep alone with the roar of Daddy’s car as it sped out of town still hanging between my ears. I remember her clinging onto me, fingertips digging into my skin as my back warmed against her belly. The bed still felt too cold, too big for our two small bodies. […]

now that the men have stopped reading

Tomorrow we wake in the dark
A few feet away from yesterday’s
Pools of blood. My mother tells me to get ready
Like I’m in the military—packing cubes, and white, and grey,
No smiles. You’ll follow my instincts and doubt them,
But no one likes listening to a 911 call. […]

to every boy

to every boy who ever looked at me like I was crazy
to every boy who ever laughed at my dreams
to every boy who ever acted like I wasn’t there
i am crazy
i have laughable dreams
some days my voice is elsewhere […]

The Way She Burns

Her skin is charred with hot mascara tears.
High heels rub blisters deep into her skin.
Sips sear her throat, her swollen, cotton fears,
But this is what it takes to be let in. […]

On Womanhood and Sports

All of us, especially women, perpetuate and live actively within the bounds of manhood. We are not just bystanders who fall victim to the culture of society, but rather, we are individuals who push it forward. I, too, was not just a bystander to masculinity but rather an active participant in it. I have been skating since I was three years old and have been playing competitive ice hockey since the age of six. Besides my home in Danvers, Massachusetts and the school I attended for eleven years, I undoubtedly spent the majority of my childhood in an ice arena. […]

A Common Language

This year I am a wide receiver and defensive back for Andover’s JV Football Team. When people find out, I get the same three questions (usually in this order): are you a cheerleader? A manager? The kicker? […]

mansplaining, manˌsplāniNG (n.)

“No, yeah, I think I understand more computer science than you do,” he scoffed. I immediately froze and slowly turned to look at him. “I’m taking CS 500 right now anyways, so yeah.” I blinked. Even with the loud din of different group conversations echoing around the classroom, I could only hear his words ringing in my head. […]


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