Breaking into the Vancouver music scene was when I really began to grasp the gravity of another woman’s word.
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I wore my hair in a slicked-back bun today, a style my mirror hadn’t seen on me in years.
It’s been just over one year since UBC Drag announced it was going on an indefinite hiatus.
I was 10 years old when I got called “teacher’s pet” for the first time. Perplexed, I pushed my big square glasses up my small nose and asked, “What does that mean?”
On a small island inside the internet — governed by @joan.of.arca, Binchtopia and Ottessa Moshfegh — lives a world of literate young women.
In my life, there were always bags.
Despite the media-imposed stereotype that ‘girl’ friendships are characterized by petty fights and falsity, close personal relationships are a staple of girlhood. From BFFs and playdates to a support system to get you through high school drama, everyone needs a community they can trust and find comfort in.
good lord, what have i done / to be so far from you?
I have always been attracted to — and easily distracted by — pretty people.
i am a fruit tree / but a delicate rose is all you should see / — all i want you to, at least.
she is of passing notes / twisted games of telephone
I always wanted an older sister growing up. I so badly wanted someone who had already experienced everything I was going through — someone of a similar age to talk to, to look up to and to have my back.
It’s a chilly October night. You’re in a dorm room somewhere on campus. Wind howls outside as rain patters against the window relentlessly, filling the sidewalk below with a slew of runoff and leaves.
At my summer student trades jobsite, everyone wore the same thing: an orange long-sleeve shirt and navy blue fire-retardant pants, both with reflective safety striping. Everyone looked the same. Well, mostly everyone.
When you’re a woman, you can’t really separate yourself from your body.