Exponent II
A feminist forum for Mormon women and gender minority voices
For some months, she had wondered what she was doing, what it all meant. She had reached the end of her plans, and even though she didn’t think another witness could help her overcome this weariness, she was open to one. The full content of this post is available to subscribers. …
after Jeffrey Davis Finalist, “Road Not Taken” Contest We had no dark leaves of longing, instead we held the Mojave, its sand singing through our fingers. Memories close enough to the sweet sage and mesquite, road runners lightning after a desert rain. I’m back among sand dunes b…
Honorable Mention, “Road Not Taken” Contest Half a lifetime ago, newly wed, we shopped for a new car — a white Mazda Protegé; the saleswoman led us from the lot to her office, said she would give us a loan that was right for our budget; we’d have low payments for that unsexy car,…
My adopted children have taught me things about the world and myself that my biological children never could have. The full content of this post is available to subscribers. Subscribe now or log in!
This is when I knew something had to change; I was willing to trade the uncomfortable known for hopefully a more comfortable unknown. The full content of this post is available to subscribers. Subscribe now or log in!
From premed student to physician, and eventually from physician to state senator.
Three excerpts from blogs featured this quarter. The full content of this post is available to subscribers. Subscribe now or log in!
The only way to know whether or not you are on your own path is if you see no one else on it. The full content of this post is available to subscribers. Subscribe now or log in!
We are on individual, parallel journeys, but at times they intersect The full content of this post is available to subscribers. Subscribe now or log in!
First Place Poet, “Road Not Taken” Contest vernix-smeared kick take me back to the sear of severing my thighs quivering harnessed wide apart like two mountains two ranges two tectonic plates diverging spewing magma take me to her round red gasp blood-streaked rage whisked away to…
At various times, I have speculated about reasons why my mother didn’t do the things she often talked about. What was the altar she sacrificed on? The full content of this post is available to subscribers. Subscribe now or log in!
Celebrating the Everyday