“As a woman in the workplace…” my boss and his boss sat across from me at a table in the conference room. The rest of their words sounded like they were far away, at the end of a tunnel. I was being reprimanded, no, warned, for a friendship I had with a male coworker.

I was a woman in the workplace. As a woman in the workplace, I already knew the rules. I’m not sure how I acquired them, by osmosis, perhaps? I never received a Woman in the Workplace handbook. I never had this talk with my mom. …

And what about me? Do I get a say?

My only child’s second birthday was approaching. Two years, I reflected, that I kept this kid alive and happy and growing. This is what I saw anyway, everyone else saw it as a time to get pregnant again.

“When’s the second one coming? You gotta try for a girl.”

“How old are you? 32? Oh yeah, you have to have another one.”

“What did you get your son for his birthday? Oh, that toy will be great for a sibling, too.”

I was never asked if I was going to have another child, it was assumed that I would, and…

I’m standing in the kitchen, doing the dishes. I hear my kid and my husband in the living room. Playing. Giggling. I put food-encrusted silverware into the dishwasher. One of our dogs looks at me plaintively, silently begging to clean that silverware. I hear another laugh. I sigh. I keep loading dishes.

What am I doing? The dishes don’t need to be done now. I can go spend time with my family and the dishes can wait! How many times have I heard people tell me this? Your kid is only young once. Savor that time. I notice the waterlogged…

I recall happily trudging through the snow-covered field with my dad and sister. My dad carried a saw to cut down the tree and a sled to transport it home. No, we weren’t looking for a Christmas tree. We were looking for an Easter tree.

Easter was always a particularly happy day in my memories. Maybe it seemed so much happier after the long winter and the dreary Lent season. Lent is the 40 day period Catholics were expected to spend in reflection, almsgiving, and fasting. This is done in preparation for Jesus’s crucifixion. It begins with Ash Wednesday when…

Woman was the first wolf.

Anger changed her. It made fur grow along her spine and claws erupt from her nail beds. Her teeth elongated and her nose became snout. She sought blood and gave herself the tools to do so. This was forgotten over time. Man, fearful of her power, constructed a world where she had no power and through pain of childbirth and bond of motherhood, convinced her. It was many years before a woman-wolf was seen again.

It would be me.

I was no mother. I was no lover. I was no caregiver. I was no soft…

Vogue recently declared eyeliner the make-up for a pandemic. What better make-up for an apocalyptic landscape than eyeliner? Lips are hidden behind masks, cheekbones are half-obscured. All we see is the eyes, the supposed portals to our souls.

I would argue that eyeliner never went away, but I’ve worn eyeliner since I first started wearing make-up. Black. Thick. Lining my upper and lower lids. Occasionally I deviate away but I always come back to that delightful, edgy, angry sweep of black across my lids. It always seemed appropriate no matter what I am dealing with in life whether that was…

This sweater says I’m empathetic, so I must be, right?

I looked at the stack of sweaters neatly folded on the table. There was black and mint green and pink and white, all in order by size, small to extra-large. Embroidered on the chest were words like Love, Kindness, Empathy. I picked up one liking the pretty script. I am empathetic, I thought. I draped it over my arm as I wandered through the store. Maybe I’ll buy it.

I was in a mall, for the first time in over a year. It was mostly the same. Loud techno music on repeat, the new clothes smell mixed with that store’s…

My husband asked me what I wanted to do for my upcoming birthday. I responded, facetiously, “to be left alone.” My husband stared at me for a second and responded with a “fine.” Sitting in awkward silence I realized maybe I wasn’t joking. Alone time sounded heavenly.

My kid is nearing two years old and before the pandemic, we spent one night away from him, and since the pandemic zero nights away. And outside of work hours, all three of us are together. All. The. Time.

I recently asked my husband what he missed about pre-COVID days Going places that…