The Monthly Theme Essays are a collection of essays written each month on a predetermined theme. These essays are always published during the last week of the month. To submit a Monthly Theme Essay check out our upcoming themes.
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My dear friend is a crone. Not an ugly, withered woman. No, she entered cronehood with ample wisdom, dignity, and poise. She entered cronehood with a croning, a sacred, near metaphysical ritual where a small group of women honor the crone and her journey. “But it’s also very much about sharing your knowledge and wisdom with other women,” the invite read.
Read MoreWhen my daughter was born, I was worried that I wouldn’t be the one she would call out for in the middle of the night.
Josh brings her warm, tear-soaked body into our king-sized bed – all 29 pounds of my two- and-a-half-year-old. The bed is already fully occupied. Me, Josh and my almost four-year-old son, Miles, sprawled out as if he was attempting to make snow angels in his sleep. But I still welcome Lyla with outstretched arms.
Read MoreKnow your muses. At the bar, pretend to browse the booze-streaked binder like it’s a doctor’s office People, like you might as well look at it since you’re here, even though you know better and you’ve spent weeks covertly planning this shebang.
Read MoreOne Monday morning in late fall, my back and neck ached as I sat at my desk at the community college where I had recently started teaching. I tilted my head in a painful stretch as I waited to meet with the students in my writing class for office hours. I wondered if the garden I’d been toiling over was worth it.
Read MoreHe made his way around the seminar table to stand at the podium and present the paper reflecting his semester-long wrestling match with challenges to everything he had been raised to accept without questioning. “He” is a young white man – a law student – who looked as if plucked from Hollywood Central Casting for a crowd scene of stereotypic “Bubbas” attending a rally of the Ku Klux Klan.
Read MoreA small engraved bell with a clapper sat on the teak coffee table in the room where my father lay dying. He no longer had the strength to call my mother so this was the instrument he used to summon her. I heard it from the kitchen and went into the living room.
Read MoreBlessed are those who hit the snooze button;
for they shall receive nine more minutes of sleep, unless they accidentally hit the stop button and awake in a panic an hour later.
I was always working hard to keep up appearances with family, friends and anyone who I thought I needed to impress. In high school, I experienced fear. It was a fear of being caught-out for not understanding what was being taught in the classroom. In no time at all, I became good at acting. I possessed all the skills necessary to give a convincing performance and I was very believable.
Read More“I am Woman. Hear me roar, in numbers to big to ignore...”
How very blessed I was to be eleven years old when Helen Reddy launched her emphasise anthem to the world. With her pageboy haircut, knitted vest, and high waisted, flared jeans, she was everything I aspired to be.
Read MoreI met him for the first time at my friend’s house, and it was love at first sight. His bright green eyes were captivating, and he wouldn’t leave my side the entire time I was there. He purred in my lap, fell asleep on my chest as I chatted with my friend. “He’s perfect,” I told her.
Read MoreI want to tell you about the time my sister, my mother, and I followed the desire of my sister’s heart. We went into the clock store at the mall. My sister went first when the idea came to her. She found the grandfather clock she believed would fit grandma’s house best—the one she thought grandma would want.
Read MoreIt was 3 o’clock in the morning when I attempted to rouse my husband.
“Um, baby, I think I’m pregnant. There are two lines on this thing I peed on.”
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