The Sweetness of His Breath by Kristen Lambertin
My son looked so small in the hospital bed. “Will this change my life? Will I still be able to play soccer?” he asked. “Yes and yes,” I said, “but not necess...
Author: Artist Mali Fischer-Levine
Mali Fischer is an illustrator living in Portland, OR. She grew up on a small island in Washington and later moved to Vancouver BC, where she attended Emily Carr University of Art & Design. Since graduating in 2014, Mali has illustrated for artists, brands, and individuals alike using her signature comforting style. She is known for emotional, therapeutic scenes.
3 Minute Read/ACEs/Divorce/Escape/Fathers/Food/Girls & Women/Grief/Identity/Loss/Memoir/Mental Health/nonfiction/Sexism/trauma
Panama, 1994, The Jungle by Mishele Maron
As a girl coming-of-age in the late 1980’s, I was told I could go anywhere and be anything I wanted to be, but of course, no one could tell me how to do this, o...
The Understory by Buffy Barfoot
*Featured Artwork by Mali Fischer The word understory was gifted to me by a dear friend, as many good things are. Its meaning can be assumed, because all humans...
At Long Last, I Can Cook: Lessons from Ina Garten and Grandma Ida by Karen Galatz
By episode 20 or 21, I started thinking of cooking in a new, sacred light. I felt a profound need to honor Mom and Grandma by finally learning to cook.
Waterbabies by Heather Diamond
When he arrives, I am holding the paper bag (because the woman is always holding the bag) they gave each of us in the recovery room where one brash young woman ...
5 Minute Read/ACEs/Adversity/Childhood/Escape/Family/Girls & Women/Grief/Identity/Literature/Loss/Memoir/Mommy Dearest/nonfiction/PTSD/Secrets/The Life/trauma
They Don’t Live in Dallas by Anna Mullins
Sometimes you lie so much you begin to believe what you say. Sometimes you don’t even have to say the lies out loud to believe them.
48 Hours By Grace Jasmine
The ex-Catholic in me keeps repeating the words “mortal sin” and the day is filled with unimaginable annoyances. Considering myself an empath and being so compl...
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