Popular Articles
As October rolls into motion at UVA, I’m reminded of all the reasons my heart soars when the seasonal clock strikes fall. Yellow leaves on Rugby Road outline the branches they dare to escape from, and Lawn rooms stacked with firewood hint at wiggling toes against crackling fireplaces.
Ten Years Old. Before even walking into the store, I am hit by the scent of Abercrombie & Fitch “Fierce” wafting into the mall. My fifth-grade mind had learned to associate this smell with attractive men shirtless on the beach, and preppy clothing galore.
You will be asked one question when your house drops in Oz.
“Are you a good witch or a bad witch?”
A Carolina Chickadee sat at the bird feeder, unable to see through the one-way glass. Though I was unseen on the other side, I would hold my breath anyway.
you did not make it quick.
There was no knife to scrape my bones,
—no knife to puncture my flesh,
It was bruises, it was blue, it was black,
It was ugly.
My wounds sank deep, pinning me in my plot
They twisted my insides, turned my stomach to stone.
My nickname in my friend group is “the emotional toilet.” Not really the most glamorous of nicknames. Essentially it refers to my tendency to become someone for the people in my life (mostly men) to vent to and drop their emotional baggage on without expecting the favor to be returned.
Redheads, of course, are not like other girls. In literature (and just maybe in life), red hair is an encoded promise to deliver the heroine from standard girlhood; it guarantees a life worth telling, implying that most girls’ are not.
As I begin my journey into womanhood, I find things such as starting a family crossing my mind more and more. I think: When do I want to start having children? How many do I want? How much time does that give me to plan my own life and career?
1. What color sweater are you wearing?
a. Vibrant colors like red or yellow…they are aesthetic af with the falling leaves
b. Neutrals like brown or grey
c. Darker shades like blue or purple or green
d. Black…always black
2. Go-to Starbucks drink?
a. **PSL**
The memory of writing my first ever short story is clearly etched in my mind. I remember the setting (an elementary school), the characters (a class of third graders) and the conflict (a radioactive lizard, loose in the classroom). I also remember that all of the characters in that first story, and in my next dozen, were all white.
The menstrual cup is intimidating, to say the least. I come from a community in which many believe that somehow tampons can take your virginity and are thus something to fear and be protected from.