Dip into these waters: surprises lie in wait-
luminescent ripples glowing in your wake.
You wake gentle brilliant beasts
who beckon you below;
surrender, tender, and remember
what you already know.
Effervescent bubbled breaths
alight upon your skin,
carry you down to solid ground
as magic is unbound.
Currents dance and spells unfurl
vines long dormant grow and cur…

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Your fingernails were always too long
scraping, pinching,
catching on my skin,
inexplicably strong and clean.
All my girl friends are envious
you boasted.

Eight years, thousands of
sharp inhales
whimpers
tensed muscles
in the wrong ways
but still — your nails,
long and solid.

If a coroner detective scientist
investigated the spaces…

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I streamed the live feed of the Global Sumud Flotilla for almost 10 hours, on my phone, in the background on my computer while I worked, in the dark before getting out of bed. This is how it went.

First they prepare. Final messages are uploaded to social media. Life vests on, their emergency beacons flas…

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“On November 6th Freedom is History” That’s the tagline for the theatrical release poster of The Siege, a movie that came out the same year I graduated high school. In the movie, in response to terrorist attacks on New York City, the U.S. Government decides to round up all young men of Arab descent. The image of dozens of teenagers and young adults in a…

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I will be
phenomenal
to the women.
I mean, I want to help women.

You’ve got to be aggressive.
You’ve got to push back hard.
You’ve got to deny
anything
that’s said about you.
Never admit.

When you’re a star,
they let you do it
You know, it really doesn’t matter
what they write
as long as you’ve got
a young and beautiful
piece of ass.

My favorite part is when Sam
has his …

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The day after she dumped me, I locked my keys in the car for the first time in over 10 years.

I always double check that my keys are in my hand before I close the door, but I guess always doesn’t apply when you’ve just spent your 15 minute break crying in your car in the rain.

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Every month, we have a staff meeting, and I leave home early to pick up breakfast for my coworkers. That’s how I find myself downtown staring out into the gray morning sky, waiting for the paper bag of hot-from-the-oven bagels. Across the street, a man returns from walking with his dog, and the smell of yeasty dough and steaming carafes of coffee is war…

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For many years, I‘ve known I should learn more about the conflict between Israel and Palestine. I saved links and bought books that sat on my shelves, untouched. I was afraid to try and wrap my mind around something so seemingly complicated. For the last 3 days, I’ve immersed myself in news reports, photos, video, Wi…

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I find myself
in the gentle curve of her breast
escaping the hem of her cropped t-shirt;
trepidatious fingertips tracing impossibly soft curve,
lips resting just below her sternum.

When I somehow manage
to tear them away from her,
my wide-open eyes settle on the opposite wall,
poster art reminding us that
fear is the min…

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I watched the video of her shaving her head over and over. Watched her cry, her hair falling down her body in long blonde strands, the slashing of a feminine power which, for years, had contributed to her feelings of powerlessness. The paradox of beauty and all its trappings. Rebecca Woolf — All of This

This story begins last fall, on an otherwise-ordina…

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Notes is a new space on Substack for us to share links, short posts, quotes, photos, and more. I plan to use it for things that don’t fit in the newsletter, like work-in-progress or quick questions.

Go to Notes

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It has been 2,652 days since I wrote this article.
It has been 1,023 days since I wrote this article.
It has been 922 days since I wrote this article.
It has been 305 days since I wrote this article.
It has been 299 days since I wrote this article.

And I could have written it a few hundred more times in between, because while six people died in Tennessee yes…

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To some, this may be shocking: I have a sex life, and I don’t hide it from my kids. In past generations, tight-lipped has been the norm when it comes to sex in general, let alone our own sex lives. But how are our kids supposed to learn to have healthy relationships with their bodies or with other people’s bodies if we don’t talk about it?

Knowledge and information is becoming more widespread, but people still stumble over the idea of sex-positive parenting. Misconceptions run wild, especially depending on your location or culture, and some people think being a sex-positive parent means exposing your children to ‘inappropriate’ things.

What does it mean to be a sex-positive parent?

Like most things parenting related, understanding this way of parenting requires understanding the underlying concept of sex-positivity in general. Sex-positive people believe sexual activities between consenting adults are a natural part of the human experience, and that sexual exploration and pleasure are healthy and should not be shamed.

So how does this affect my parenting? I want my kids to grow up without the shroud of shame and secrecy too often surrounding anything related to sex in our culture. I want them to hold their power, respect other people’s power, learn to love themselves, accept their bodies, and understand what having responsible and safe sexual relationships looks and feels like.

My goal is for my children to leave our conversations with several things:

• Confidence that they have access to the resources they want or need.

• Resources I trust, whether it’s a new book or links to websites like Scarleteen and Amaze; and a reminder of other adults they know who are safe to talk to (other parents, family friends, grandparents etc.).

• Understanding that their curiosity is completely normal, and everyone, including me and Dad, has had these thoughts and questions.

• Acknowledgement that it can be hard or embarrassing to talk about this stuff, but we will never judge them for being curious or wanting to educate themselves.

That’s all fantastic in theory — but how do you carry it out? Here are 20 ways I’ve incorporated sex-positivity into my parenting practices.

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At a Presbyterian Womens’ Retreat in the foothills of the Cascades, we do an exercise where we are instructed to write a lie we’ve believed about ourselves on our palm in eyeliner. The room is quiet, and it takes me no time at all to figure it out.

I am worthless.

As I smear it with my thumb, my hands are covered with streaks of the things I let myself be worn down to. The weight of it crashes over me, emptying my lungs, pausing my heart. How did I get here?

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I rely a lot on my feelings. What is right, what is wrong, w…

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A poem for broken hearts

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Extended sizing is almost always an afterthought, but why are sizes 0–10 still the baseline when they cover less than 30% of the US…

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In the aftermath of Roe v. Wade’s repeal, we are no longer capable of managing the emotional well being of men

Continue reading on Rachael Writes »

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