I must face my own hurt and my own past, and I must continue on, not a fictional being at all, but one of blood and sweat, and that makes me capable of anything...
My newly developed curves seemed to give me a dangerous power over my father and other men, which troubled me because I couldn’t seem to discern its appropriate...
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 ...
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...
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
*Featured Image: “Stop The Violence- Gun” By Robert Francois #Guns and People Non Fiction Essay Contest! We are now accepting submissions of 3,000 w...
I sometimes wonder if I’d given Otis a different name, something like Bronson or Butch, he’d have been born with more brawn than soul. Otis is only two, for Chr...
I sit out in the chill wet evening, all the roses are dead on the bushes, waiting and hoping and knowing, here we are at last and so soon.
As part of our ongoing commitment to nurturing the voices of marginalized groups and writers of color, Memoir Magazine is sponsoring a free online memoir class ...
They did not think: moonlit bank where my ancestors were unloaded from ships or branch from which bodies once swung. They did not have to...
When the clinic called for physicians, I volunteered. Of course, I wasn’t gay—all I needed was proof. I needed to find the clinic and its patients repulsive.
Over-explaining can be especially harmful in regards to nonfiction because we essayists are often accused of doing some serious navel-gazing—where we can’t look...
