It all began in ninth grade, when I got tired of being referred to as “chunky” and put myself on a limited eating regimen of saltines, apples and hard-boiled eggs. I lost weight, but I had no idea that I would catch and release that same ten pounds for the next forty years…
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Redressing the wound, 20 years later
Like a broken bone that never healed properly, it still aches. Painful national reminders are to be appreciated, because often the distorted priorities of politics, culture, society, and technology distract us from the importance of catastrophes that happened many years ago. . .
Leave no witnesses: The secret life of moms
“I’m free,” I muttered to myself, my eyes wide and unblinking, my caffeine-affected fingers trembling against the steering wheel. “Finally … free.” In the time it took for me to round the circle and exit the school property, I’d thought of a million things I could do with my day now that there were no witnesses. . .
Back to School Fashion Fears
I recall many excruciating details from my adolescent years, from the Smurfs puffy stickers I stuck inside my locker to that humiliating day I threw up in the cafeteria in front of my entire seventh grade class …
What I believe about Hell and hand baskets