HerStry publishes one Personal Essay every Wednesday. Weekly Personal Essays are a way for writers to tell the stories they want to tell. There are no rules. No themes. Nothing is off limits. For essay submissions check out our guidelines.
When I was in the second grade, I was a carefree child with no real worries that I can recall. I spent my days in my head dreaming up stories, which I now know is characteristic of my personality as an INFP on the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. I was also an avid reader by this time, quickly consuming any book I could get my hands on.
Read MoreI had been in graduate school for over three years but hadn’t taken a night class. So when I started teaching Psych 280: Community Psychology from 6:00 pm to 8:30 pm, it was very possibly the first time I had found myself walking alone at night across campus. For the first week, I followed my autopilot footsteps – the same path I walked home every single day.
Read MoreI have a tattoo on my neck that reads D I V I N A.
It is the feminine term for divine, in Spanish. You see, I have chosen to affirm my greatness through my body, and I consider this tattoo a proclamation to myself and an affirmation to my female ancestors. I love this tattoo because it is an indicator for outsiders to know who they are dealing with, when they approach me.
Read MoreI don’t remember how old I was. Eight or nine possibly. Some details didn’t stick in this guilty memory. But I remember the restaurant. It was a cheap pizza chain. I remember the smell of heat-lamp pizza and wilted pink salad with ranch. I remember the pleasure of seeing greasy wadded up paper napkins on empty beige plates next to half-drunk red plastic cups. Empty plates meant full tummies. And of course I remember distinctly the stained industrial carpet under the tables and chairs where I crouched and hid in mortification.
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