Published in Dear Journal, issue 2

SUMMER, 2016


I learn, I read, I listen, I talk, I write, I wear, I do, I teach

I am, I am, I am

Everyday I mourn myself

I recreate myself

I negotiate

who I will be

embarrassed of who I’ve been

though I know there is

no shame in shame.

I am a bad feminist,

and I recognize the dichotomy is untrue.


I wonder what I am to others.

I fear a snap of reality.

They say Pisces are dreamers,


spacey, it’s true.

I simultaneously walk numerous paths

indecisive, searching.


That is classic:

of a 20-something year old?

of a millenial?

of a first generation Canadian?

of a queer?

of a romantic, an over-thinker, an Other, a person?

We are all searching

but some more than others.



white supremacy




ism’s and o’s.


Thanks to feminism, I develop

the language to describe myself

to relate to others

to subvert, resist, belong,

and feel like I am not alone.


So let me turn my personal into the political,

question and be confused.

So let me revel in the complexities

of we are, who we’ve been, and who we can be,

standing on the shoulders of those before us

and of who we’ve already been.


When you are in a constant state of

confusion and enlightenment,

when you mix up self care and laziness,

or self care and avoidance,

when there is no right answer,

when time keeps moving but you are not ready,

when you keep moving but they’re not ready,




I am tired, I am energized,

I am burned out, I am revved up.

But the Other feels no choice but to take action.

We need more allyship

beyond a capital A,

and we need more

solidarity and less complacency.


Settling through unsettling:

I watch my puppy do rolls in a fuzzy blanket

My partner and I do the same.

Searching for



Thinking beyond the self

I am all my me’s

and the me’s of you too.


Unsettling through settling:

Our collective embodiment of resistance

wraps us tightly in that fuzzy blanket,





“take care, beware.”