Pantry Pasta

In the summer of 2016 I went to Home Depot to buy a wooden plank to lay across the top of the washer and dryer where my kitchen counter should be. I had just moved into a very old, new-to-me home, and I was lucky to even have a washer and dryer in the tiny space. There was no insulation and no heat, but it was close to my job on the Square and the rent was cheap.

Pantry Pasta

Running for my Mental Health

2009 is sort of a blur for me. I don’t think I realized how depressed and anxious I was until I finally moved away from home. At that time in my teen years, I was struggling tremendously with relationships with my dad and my boyfriend.

Running for my Mental Health

I'm tired.

“I’m so tired.” - Nana, every time I talk with her.

“I am just tired.” - Me, every time my husband asks me what’s a wrong.

“I am tired, I haven’t been sleeping,” - My mother when we chat after a long day with teenagers.

“Gosh, I am so tired.” - My aunt when I ask her how things are going.

I'm tired.

Defining Home

When someone asks me where I am from, I stutter. “Well, it’s sort of complicated. I went to high school in Orlando, lived in Mississippi, claim Memphis even though I never lived there for more than three months at a time. Oh, and I currently live in Austin.”

Defining Home

Why I marched.

I marched in the Women’s March - I had been looking forward to it since the election.

It was a piece of hope I held onto, tightly. You see, I have been passionate about women’s rights, reproductive rights, racial reconciliation, and LGBTQ rights for a long time, since before “it was cool.” I think I was passionate about social justices before I knew what they were or what they actually meant in this country and the world.

Why I marched.