I live in California, but I’m from New York.
I’m happiest on a beach or lost in a book.
name: (1) a word or combination of words by which a person or thing is regularly known; (2) an act of expression showing scorn…intended to hurt another’s feelings; (3) outward…deceptive indication…
*IRL: in real life
My teen barreled through my bedroom door, raising his voice when he noticed the AirPod in my ear. I’d been trying to drown out the sounds of my family as I worked.
“Can we go to Portland?”
No preamble. No, excuse me, are you busy…
The summer I was thirteen, I learned alcohol made me desirable.
Pubescent boys pawed my breasts, overeager to explore what they discovered in the centerfolds of their dad’s private stash. Neighborhood teens, too cool to acknowledge me on the block, shoved their hands down my pants on the dark sand…
A mother’s memoir, a work-in-progress—chapter TBD.
It was late. Everyone should’ve been asleep.
“Mama, Mama, please, please. Come back.” Babygirl’s sobs bounced off the high ceilings, down the hall, into our bedroom.
“Why is she crying?” he asked.
“Leave her,” I said.
“Mama, mama, come back.”
Babygirl was crying. Crying…
I knock on the door. No answer. I knock again.
“What,” he says. Each letter a distinct syllable, thick with disdain, annoyance, and the hatred that flavors most interactions with my quarantined fourteen-year-old.
I step inside.
“Just checking in.” My words are as tentative as my approach.
“Can you get…
“Please fill out your bio,” Jack said at the end of the meeting. “It’s informal, just two lines: what you do and your affiliation with our community.”
“Sure,” I said. “No problem.” I closed Zoom and opened the Google doc.
Sure, no problem, I thought.
Twelve volunteer board members. …