Snow falls from her window, she leaps out of bed and her warm, fuzzy socks hit the icy wood floor. It’s only Christmas Eve, but the excitement is beaming from her face. Her siblings are still asleep,...

While peacefully scrolling through Pinterest, I carefully analyzed the pins that popped up on my feed. Pictures of girls with perfect blowouts, and friends wearing matching white Brandy Melville sets appeared...

A chill breeze flows through her hair, and crisp leaves crunch beneath her black boots. On the hunt for a Halloween costume, she makes her way into Spirit Halloween. As she grazes through each display,...

It was but a board – square, colorful, and deceptively unassuming. Harsh living room lights shone across it, creating a glow around the familiar property cards, tiny green houses, and pair of dice. I...

I sit on the sand, fine particles sticking to my thighs. With each breath, I am met with the salty scent of ocean water. The waves aren’t violent; they’re so calming that if I close my eyes I can fall...

Middle school was a difficult time for me, let alone 6th grade, a brand new place to get used to. How overwhelming. I struggled with immense insecurity and lacked an understanding of social cues. in a...

My world turned around on Sept. 27th, 2021 at 6:54 P.M. As I read over the singular text from my mother sent 10 minutes prior, a familiar feeling in my gut grew while I frantically asked my closest...

What is feminism? It seems the line is blurred on what it is and what it isn’t. Nowadays feminism has been defined as a girlboss queen that doesn’t need a man and doesn’t dream about love. Someone...

An old woman sat behind the camera of the most watched news network in the country, holding a deck of cards. Beside her, Fox News host Jesse Watters explained the segment. The old woman, Paula Roberts,...

Growing up, I always had representation. My friends and I would sit looking at magazines of Marsai Martin and Beyoncé wishing we would become them one day. We would share a laugh while going to the beauty...

My eighth grade self stood quietly as I struggled to find the answer to my parents’ question: “Why do you have anxiety?” I didn’t know what response would be correct or acceptable. A thousand words...

The room was blurry. My mind was spinning. The projector board was a series of indecipherable tasks  to accomplish. My eighth grade self sat awkwardly at my desk, palms sweating, legs shaking.The counselors...