work as love

Nobody prepared me for the identity crisis that is “no longer being a student.” I’ve been working as a full-time brand journalist for two weeks now, and I’m face-to-face with the reality of indefinite work and what that means. Not being someone who wants to climb the corporate ladder, I’m having to redefine what growth,Continue reading “work as love”

poem: untitled

In forsaking the ability to change,they diminish their capacity for hope.—Kathleen Norris, “Dakota” What must it feel liketo not be somebody’s first love? I’m sick of being angry.My therapist said thisis part of grief. I always know I’m home whenI don’t feel Asian enoughfor anyone on social media. I’m afraid to write.“You must trust theContinue reading “poem: untitled”

non-mother’s meditation on motherhood

Joan Didion writes in Blue Nights, “Once she was born I was never not afraid.” How much more anxious does one become upon having a child—upon being touched by God to bring up a little life that looks a little like oneself? To see oneself in the face of this sweet creature, this beautiful creatureContinue reading “non-mother’s meditation on motherhood”

Poem: For Now

We watched the lightning show from my bedroom window, carmine and hibiscus dancing behind charcoal clouds,angelic hallelujah light. I scolded youfor being on your phone, but you were curiousabout gas excitation and electrons so,in retrospect, that was probably okay.Apparently lightning is five times hotterthan the sun, and Zeus is married to Hera,the goddess of childbirthContinue reading “Poem: For Now”

collected thoughts, vii

Once, I thought a tiny tumbleweed was a groundhog with matted fur. Then it blew away. * Last week I revised an essay about love lost, love learned, and love rediscovered. It was a lot more emotionally exhausting to write than I thought it would be. I kept crying. Among many other things, the pastContinue reading “collected thoughts, vii”

collected thoughts, vi

One morning this past week, I spilled half a glass of chocolate milk on my father’s newspaper and my beloved copy of “Lila.” I censored my under-breath curse, snatched up a few stray paper towels to mop up the mess. If it had been coffee the incident would have struck me as being a pinnacleContinue reading “collected thoughts, vi”

the city is only beautiful when

The city has never been beautiful to me. When I was five years old, Detroit was a black shadow that held my father hostage at the VA Medical Center. When he had a night shift he didn’t come home until 3 in the morning. Sometimes my mother let my two little brothers and I stayContinue reading “the city is only beautiful when”

Day 3 – Belonging

The tree branches whipping against the windows at 7 in the morning leave me less than inclined to open my eyes. Maybe if I hold onto my dreams the monster won’t get me. I’d been having nice dreams. They’d been dreams where I’d felt loved and seen. Splashes of ice cold water cast themselves againstContinue reading “Day 3 – Belonging”

Stories from 4FF4: Life is a Gift

In the morning, I thought of you and smiled.  It still aches. It hurts to remember that you’re not here. And yet, somehow, I feel as if you’re still here. Your smile is alive and well. Your laugh rings through our hallways and the little family room in your split-level house. Your kindness still touchesContinue reading “Stories from 4FF4: Life is a Gift”