And while I absolutely look forward to legally ordering a glass of prosecco at dinner like a real grown-up lady, my impending birthday has also made me stop and reflect on some of the few nuggets of wisdom I have acquired over the last two decades
Community is at the heart of what feminism is all about.
What Ana Mendieta’s Siluetas Taught Me About Woman and Nature as One.
I have found magic in R E V E A L I N G ones true nature.
Vintage pinups redone with ink and abstract watercolor.
The modern day equivalent of sticking post-its and cards to your mirror.
Self-Love is the greatest love story.
Dealing with the “monster menses.”
Hi, wow!” she exclaims with an unbridled energy that seems both youthful and genuine--two adjectives an average American would be unlikely to employ if asked to describe “politician.”
My admiration for music and feminism brought me to create artwork that showcases new women artists reimagined as older feminist singers that share similarities.
How Overthinking Ruined My Love Life.
The premise of this short film is that a young girl’s happiness and fantasy keeps getting interrupted by outside sources. Her fantasy can be whatever you take it to be, whether that be her dancing by herself, consuming confetti and joy, remaining true to her values, whatever you might identify with.
Regardless of how up to minute one stays with celebrity culture, it’s hard to miss the fact that we love nothing more than a woman in a crisis.
Traveling solo is a great way to boost your confidence, even if it feels scary.
My best friend was the first to know. The bittersweet words felt sour on the ears. She disappeared into her own self-induced shock, paralyzed by the reality of three little words (“Kristie, I’m Bisexual”).
Did you know that Black women are three to four times more likely to die from childbirth than white women?
I’m sorry, I should’ve packaged up your ignorance in a neatly wrapped box. A pretty ribbon to heal your embarrassment? A sweet label to explain away your guilt?
Shame feels terrible. Hot sweats. Crawling skin. Unbearable smallness. Shame makes me feel like a little girl, not the grown woman I am.
You both asked me how I’ve been, Good.
if I ever made it to where I wanted to go, I did.
why I left with such certainty. For me.
Now the #1 bestselling author of The Survival Guide to Bullying: Written by a Teen, Aija asserts that she is “strong, determined, and vulnerable.” The adjectives bookending her sentence, “strong,” and “vulnerable,” might seem contradictory, but over the course of our conversation, Aija swiftly exhibited her multifaceted personality and explained how she finds courage in her weakest moments. Over the course of her teen years and blossoming career, Aija has successfully twisted her struggles into strength in order to save herself and others.
If my future self would have told “1st grader Brooke” that she would be a public figure in Texas politics, little Brooke would’ve told my future self that she had spelled dentist wrong. Dreams can change through a matter of circumstance.
I got bangs just like my 6-year-old self displayed on picture day.
I stood, my tummy jutting out in my Speedo two-piece, and stared at my reflection in the mirror, zeroed in on one thing: a huge pimple right between my eyebrows. Big and red and painful. I squeezed the ever-loving shit out of that thing, but to no avail: I had only angered the beast.
In one particularly inappropriate and hilarious scene, the word “clitoris” is repeatedly shouted. My friends and I are baffled. What is that? It’s still considered “cool” to know bad words, which we assume it must be. “I dare you to ask our health teacher,” my friend says.
My clothing is not an invitation for your hands, my sister is not a prize, and my best friend is not able to consent if she is not fully conscious. Simply existing in your room doesn’t make me yours. Content warning: rape and sexual assault.
I just asked him if he knew about the mermaids. Specifically, the mermaid in Irish poet Nuala Ni Dhomhnaill’s “Mermaid in the Hospital,” a mermaid who wakes up to find her tail gone, replaced with “two long, cold thingammies.” . She doesn’t understand her new, working legs because they are not her: “But here's the thing/she still doesn't get— ... How she was connected/to those two thingammies/and how they were connected/to her.”
In my last spring break, I disappeared for a night. While I suspect that this was the second time I’ve been roofied, I’ll probably never know for sure. After waking up in a strange place and returning home, I saw the damage that I believe I had caused--the tears and panic in my mom’s eyes, my boyfriend sitting in the driveway crying as he waited for me to come home. I don’t know what happened that night.
We are queens of our own, Our crowns don't show. They are hidden in our souls.
I heard so many things growing up, starting in pre-school. I believed “boys are faster and stronger than girls”, or “only girls can like pink and purple”, or “girls are smarter than boys”. Even though none of these are accurate statements, I remember feeling sad when I lost a race to a boy on the playground, thinking it was because I was weak because I was a girl. Then I remember hating that part about being a girl.
Author: Alyssa Cassarino
Alyssa's art is known as ForestFreckles. She is a 24-year-old, Austin vegan artist. She creates prints, paintings, drawings, as well as hanging wall decorations, inspired by both nature and strong women in the hopes of the people looking at her art feel closer to nature and more confident in who they are.