15 Minute Read/Adversity/Escape/Family/Justice/Literature/nonfiction/On Memory/personal essay/Refugees/Society
Besos, Not Borders by Ana M. Fores Tamayo
She needed to know more about where I began: my past as a refugee child.
Category: Adversity
#MeToo/#SAAM/10 Minute Read/2018 #MeToo Runner Up/Adversity/Girls & Women/Identity/LGBTQ/Mental Health/Rape Culture/Religion/Society
Discovering Electricity by Abby Cummings
I’d be lying if I said my interest in forensic psychology wasn’t partially fueled by a need to prove I no longer feared men like him, at least in the beginning,...
#MeToo/15 Minute Read/ACEs/Adversity/Girls & Women/Literature/Loss/Memoir/Memory/On Memory/Rape Culture/Survival
The Fade By Sara J. Sutler-Cohen
But I only knew the mechanics of sex, not its consequences. Who does at thirteen?
#MeToo/#SAAM/10 Minute Read/2018 #MeToo Runner Up/ACEs/Adversity/Girls & Women/Loss/MeToo/Rape Culture/Survival
Seeing Red by Shannon Tsonis
It’s got to be near three in the morning and my head still stirs with all the alcohol I had helped myself to. The alcohol I didn’t buy but paid for. Dearly.
#MeToo/#SAAM/15 Minute Read/2018 #MeToo Runner Up/ACEs/Adversity/Girls & Women/Memoir/MeToo/On Memory/Rape Culture
Before #MeToo by C. Flanagan Flynn
Soon enough it’s clear he’s hellbent on spreading the rumor he fucked you—or is it fact? You’re a 13-year-old freshman who drank a pint of Southern Comfort, bla...
She Could not be Happy By Julie Ann Wenglinski
"Diana could not be happy because her mother was a grizzly bear and Diana was a human and they could never understand each other. From the time she learned to s...
Putting On Eyeliner With PTSD by René Ostberg
does this makeup make me look smokey slutty sophisticated safe soft weak or like a raccoon like a ghost a victim should I wash it off can I not just wash ...
Skylark in Tawny Mist BY Julie Ann Wenglinski
Before surgery, a rabbity young man in a white jacket hurried by and put his hand down the front of my dress, then bustled away. On my gurney to the OR, a chatt...
The Desk By Sara J. Sutler-Cohen
My room was the base of operations for Dad’s drug dealing enterprise, a career he must have selected—I imagine in hindsight—to sustain his life as a musician