When I was in high school, we read a story in English class about residential schools. One of my best friends was Indigenous, and she told me that her mother was a residential school survivor.
My country was built on the graves of children.
We tore babies from their parents’ arms and beat them red and white. We smothered their words and erased their dances, writing over them with ours. We whited them out.
The blood of the children cries out from the ground.
Though this week we have found over 1000 graves, we have not found all the graves…
It seems the voices around me are growing ever louder. From the one side, it’s “You can’t be LGBTQ+ and a Christian! Pride is a sin!” From the other side, it’s “Why would you want to associate yourself with a group that has caused so much pain and suffering? Christians are evil.”
More and more ex-evangelicals (exvangelicals) are dropping the “Christian” label altogether. They don’t want to be associated with a group that has fostered so much hatred and negativity. Honestly, I don’t blame them. But I’m still a Christian.
Now those who had been scattered by the persecution that…
Around 10 years ago, I went to a fertility doctor because I hadn’t been able to get pregnant after 2 years of trying. He put me on Clomid and I had to have sex on a schedule. It sucked.
After several months of this, while my mental health deteriorated until I was crying at the sight of babies and hating having sex, I gave up and walked away from all of the tests and drugs and stuff. I just couldn’t do it any more.
I accepted that I was infertile and would likely never have a baby.
I thought I…
Ugh. Ewan stuck his finger in the book he was reading and shouted back, “What?!”
Amber stuck her head into Ewan’s bedroom, a teasing grin on her face. “Your girlfriend’s here.”
“What? Where?” Shoving a bookmark between the pages, Ewan dropped the book on his bedside table and rolled off his bed.
“Outside.” Amber followed him down the hall. “She’s on a horse.”
As Ewan went through the kitchen, Mason and Gabby were sitting at the table, playing some game while Raven did the dishes at the sink. …
Two years ago, I had a huge fight with one of my brothers, M. I ended up blocking him on Facebook and blocking his phone number.
At the time, I talked about the incident and how it made me feel in our Prism & Pen editors chat with James Finn, Artemis Shishir, and BFoundAPen. They were all kind and sympathetic, but Brian went above and beyond. He told me he was now my “little Black brother.”
A few months later, my sister told me that M wanted to reach out to me, that he was sorry for how he had…
I was comfortable;
Life was mundane, humdrum, safe;
I knew who I was and what I was supposed to do.
I followed the map,
The path set out for me,
Each step as I was meant to walk:
For such a time as this.
I followed all the rules and didn’t deviate.
I wanted to be good.
My foundation started shaking;
I plastered all the cracks
Until I could no longer overlook the faults.
The light came flooding in
And the walls fell down.
I stood exposed
My defenses gone,
My path divided and transformed.
A rainbow arched…
Apparently it’s still “confusing” in 2021 for a bi woman to be married to a man.
I’m so tired.
I like cake and pie. If you see me eating pie, is that confusing?
I play the piano and the guitar. If you see me playing the piano, is that confusing?
I write poetry, fiction, and essays on Medium. Is me writing this essay confusing?
My sexuality is about who I am attracted to. It is not about who I date/kiss/fuck/marry.
I have been attracted to men, women, and people I wasn’t sure about their gender.
I have only ever kissed…