Love, Cramps & Hot Pants

Colliding stars with the first love of my life was an adventure filled with choices
made on my part that must be featured in every do-not-do list of every etiquette
manual and seduction story ever written ever. The object of my affections inspired all
kinds of behavior I daresay I have not repeated since, and that I have rarely shared the
extent of with anyone.  

Namastay in Bed

Breathe out. Savasana. It’s silent. You lay still. Your mind is a rampage. You think in technicolor and irrationality. You think about how you will conquer the world and deactivate all your social media accounts after class is done. It’s irrelevant. It’s trivial. It’s an existential crisis. 

Active Hope & Embracing the Dirt.

And the thing was, we all had 'dirt'… or what Trump and his team would regard as dirt. Some of us were queer. Some of us were poor as poor can be. Some of us were non-white. Some of us were immigrants. Some of us were women - and men. And other genders in between. Some of us were

My Bumpy Road

My close friend, Em, is on her knees behind me, my pants around my ankles, undies pulled to the side to reveal my bum cheek. She stares intently at it again.

Bending Time

Time is one of those constant and relentless forces of nature underpinning our experience of reality – like gravity, or space, or the laws of physics. It’s an intrinsic and immutable property of the universe which governs the very parameters and conditions of our existence as human beings, yet we barely think about it – and we need to start.

On Coming Out

I am sitting with my legs curled beneath me on the couch. Sun streams through the windows. It is July 2014. I have just explained that six years ago, a girl in my class heard a rumour that I was gay. She was a very popular girl. I was desperate to be like Henrietta. She was skinny, sporty, funny. I was short, pudgy and awkward, with a weird name nowhere near as beautiful as Henrietta. Henrietta. Her name caught in my throat and the whole class watched as she swung her legs over the table, blocking my way.

Pride, Fear & Snapchat

As a twenty something I’m sure it’s no surprise that I’m a little frustrated. I think most of us are. At the moment I feel like I’m stranded in a weird space between two polarising throes – pride and fear. You see, I’ve noticed a pattern in myself; I tend to get close to a person I’m seeing and all of a sudden it’s as though someone’s flicked some kind of switch, the light’s too bright and I’m out of there before either of our pupils can even adjust.

Define: Self Love, Dirt and Potatoes.

Society today has somehow convinced us to adopt the thought that loving ourselves is egocentric, arrogant and, more offensively, an act of rebellion. Most of us, if our upbringing called for it, spent the the majority of our ‘defining’ years institutionalised, with the outcome being a clear choice in a future career path and goal. Particularly in the last two years of high school, we would focus on choosing educational units that were best-fitted; these choices equated to the amount of limited colours in a packet of highlighters. I was never really the kid who opted to study math methods, in fact I found myself in foundation maths, measuring the circumference of a potato as my mid-term assignment.

Mindfulness and Sustainability : Use Your Mess, to Make Less.

When we remove chemicals and irrelevant packaging, we are not only helping heal ourselves to feel better, eat better and be more MINDFUL, but we won’t be contributing to greater ecological disruption; we would be protecting our wildlife, our rain-forests, our beaches, and most importantly our communities and our health. We are forced to stop and think about our actions and how they impede on the world around us.

An Extra Side of Dirt, Please.

For someone who used to be annoyingly outgoing, it was even more annoying for my mental well-being that all I wanted to do was hibernate and sleep. I couldn’t eat anything let alone get into a car without feeling like I was going to be sick. Doctors kept giving me pregnancy tests regardless of my “I’m a virgin and a closeted lesbian” debacle in my head.