The door clicks shut,
Barely audible to my ears
Eager only to hear
The sound of my heartbeat
And the pad of my steps.
And I run.
My cheeks turning pink
As the overhead evening sky,
The horizon eating away the sun
As my legs electrify the ground.
But as the horizon licks its lips
And the sun and day are gone,
My smile slips.
New rules are in play.
The nighttime treaty- unspoken, unwritten,
Known by all women.
The streets are no longer ours.
They belong to the day’s shadows,
Who hide behind jobs and groceries and grins of imperfect teeth.
They are the warnings that keep me inside on darker days.
Are they myths?
I hold my breath as dark-tinted cars go by,
As the nightmares of my mind burn too close to the edge of reality.
I live a million lives between each street sign,
Imagine a million ways to make a hasty retreat.
Because now they own the streets.
My nails digging into my palm
As one with a beard
Says hey, calls me girl.
Is it scarier
To be a girl?
Under this nightly contract
Is there even a difference?
I see one of my own.
We smile, we nod, we pass each other.
The smile a reassurance,
The nod a gesture,
Confirming the salvific clause.
That says one will call for angels
If demons get the other.
That one will call the papers
If the other’s name appears tomorrow.
These thoughts as familiar
As the streets I run,
As though thinking them is a means of protection,
Naivete visible on the backs of others, younger.
I do not feel safer
The closer I get to home.
Danger, fear, what and if
Are my running companions
And remain with me
So long as I dare defy the treaty.
But as I bound down the hill,
Momentum pulls me toward safety like a lifeline.
I am the only one pulling.
I touch base and breathe,
And I wonder how many times I escaped today.
And why we ever signed
On the dotted line.
Mother Nature is resilient though, and so are women.
Think of yourself as a pie. (I prefer blueberry.) The pie is divided into slices, and as the maker of the pie you have control over the size of each one. Hopefully, you have gathered by now that this dessert is a metaphor for life.
The Michigan Difference” being its spectacular education, athletics and unparalleled resources...but the real Michigan difference is that the women at the university are saints and the men are pigs
Here are six diverse superheroes who need to grace our screens next.
Do you ever wonder what people actually care about?
In most cultures, there’s a good chance you’ll run into a handful of outdated cultural norms.
Skewed and false versions of history presented to us with a neat bow on top, meant to continue systems of oppression and inequality.
Even our own vision of ourselves is tainted by the sexist agenda we are constantly subjected to.
With any form of branding, comes the valuation
We have all judged someone else because of their style choices, and we have all been untrue to ourselves when we refuse to wear what we want because of the fear of others.
The Girl is Using Poetry To Change Society.
Inspired by the line “I eat mean like air”, I wrote the last stanza of this poem
Female Friendship at its Finest.
Italian Music Divas to the Rescue!
How do I find new intimacy after a breakup?
Read the issue 2 intro letter and check out the cover here!
In a way, we are detached because we always identified as Singaporeans.
“A woman you now are,” my mother closed her eyes…
Women today must reclaim the identity of the muse.
“But… You don’t even look Nicaraguan.”
How Traveling to Amsterdam Taught Me About Different Kinds of Relationships.
Set aside some time for a little ~self-exploration~
Rehana and her team are expanding this space dedicated to representing Asian women.
I’ve noticed the dissociation I experience when I hear someone casually throw around words like “bipolar,” “depressed,” “anxious,” or “retarded.”
Exploring topics of feminism in television usually goes one of two ways…
And why women are the same way.
‘Pro-life’ has a lot of meanings.
The need for young women to connect with each other is even more prevalent.
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
Author: Caitlin Panarella
Caitlin Panarella is a writer, reader and grammar enthusiast, and is currently studying English and Women and Gender Studies at Georgetown University. After watching Miss Representation in high school, she developed a passion for analyzing media and literature portrayals of gender. When she’s not planning out trips around the world, you can find her running her favorite routes all over D.C., sipping tea while reading a book, or (re)watching Stranger Things. She’s thrilled to be a part of the Make Muse team and support women telling their own stories!