I climbed the stairs to Aunt Tee’s apartment. The hallway was dark but the semi-opened blinds let in a hint of sunlight on the second-floor landing. The burgundy carpet was clean, other than a tennis ball-sized stain in front of the door

If We Could Talk

I remember the time you left your phone at home in our first apartment. It was an old loft close to campus. It was raggedy, the stove was too small, and mildew stained the grout in the bathroom. It was our first



“African-American girls always score higher than their white peers when it comes to self-esteem,” one of my High School teachers lectured. I struggle to remember why broaching this subject was germane to our class discussion, since this statement was made by my


Finding Mama

Let me start by giving my parents the grace they deserve. My mother was only sixteen when she had me, and the only thing I know about my parents’ relationship is that they loved each other, and I was wanted. They always

God is Blue

It’s morning again. The cold outside beats against everything it encounters and my old bedroom windows tremble, struggling to keep the warmth inside. It is often the cold that stirs me awake and I tend to rise before the sun, listening to

You Are The Prize

I changed jobs earlier in the year. It was the type of job that had me jump from plane to plane and airport to airport as a consultant. Seems as I was no longer playing travel hopscotch, I had plenty of unclaimed


Under The Wolf’s Bonnet

In this Think-Like-A-Man world, this Fault-in-our-Stars universe, it embarrasses me to say that I am inept at love. Falling in love is something most people have to resist. Shaking off suitors should be as easy as wearing lipstick. I am still staggering