fuzzy

The beginning of my short memoir. — I feel beyond guilty telling my own life stories on Medium. What if it comes off as selfish, unnecessary, or tone deaf? I couldn't live with myself if that happened. Yes, writing about personal experiences is cathartic, but I also write about mine because Disabled stories told by Disabled people…

I’m Disabled: speaking from personal experience and as an English geek, Beyoncé and Lizzo did not mean to do any harm. — Well, the time has come…sort of. Ableism has made it to mainstream media in a different way, meaning it’s being discussed and not only being perpetuated. I thought this would be a momentous occasion, a huge leap forward, but instead, it’s all making me feel like shit. In the past…

…and I’m feeling very guilty about that. — It’s the last thirty minutes of July. July is Disability Pride Month, and I haven’t done any advocacy. I’m not apologizing as if everyone has been waiting with bated breath to hear from me and I was silent, it’s just that this past month, I would keep coming up empty…

a poem — Pay attention to who is allowed vanity and who is not. Who is allowed to bloom in the sun and who is left to rot? Pay attention to the difference between those who wouldn’t dare to catch their reflection in ponds and pocket change (because they know damn well that if they did, the town would burst…

…take a sip! — She wanted to be seen splattering paint, ruining what was considered a masterpiece. Or carving her darkest secrets into the trunk of the most beautiful oak tree. But instead she was writing letters and stamping envelopes though they’ll only ever journey to a roaring fire. - Smudged ink and crossed…

a poem — This is a garden where weeds are welcome, where cotton-tailed and feathered fence hoppers are invited over to eat and rest their feet. - This is a garden where peace isn’t forced, it’s present. - This is a garden, a work of art created and maintained by an old man…

a poem — The way a stranger will nurture you because they can sense your heart is breaking. Because they were once where you are, and I’m not talking about being in the Produce section at 5:23 pm sharp, they too have felt the incessant aching. - Or the moment you put a…

a poem — “what is to give light must endure burning” I taped the quote on my wall because it resonated beyond belief - and then I said the words out loud through gritted teeth - these words, this notion, I still believe but I’ve burned for far too long now… and this…