Body & Narrative

By Beba, 51

You know, last year was a truly remarkable one. A slipped disc taught me just how far in life I should bend—myself, my principles, and my values—and how deeply it hurts, physically, mentally, and emotionally, when I bend further than I ever should.

I have come to accept that I will never become a mother, and with that acceptance a whole new world has opened of what I might be and how I might live without a child. It may sound strange, but that realization was, in a way, liberating and almost hopeful.

HAIKU FOR M

By Veronika, 47

She's scared he's just left
He came inside, she's kinda old
The Pill and the Wife.

Naively she thought
He liked her. He's just horny?
The next day? What now?

U need a massage.
I do, she realized. A
Kid conceived? Perhaps?!

Left in an uber,

right after. Alone in bed.
An after pill. Heeeeeelp!

She feels so stupid,
He didn't listen and came in.
44 not less.

Sex is not love dear!
U should know better. Not just
Men sleep around. Cheers.

She's gone, with kids. Far.
He came over, they made love.
Not just love was made.

Why should she cherish
Accountibility?!
Because he said so?

I was hard as nails,
Other boys were even worse.
Welcome to my town.

Pussy or heart!? Mom!
Why can one man not please both?
Ask them! Little girl!

Her heart said no. Why?
Those contradiction. His dxxx.
Came inside smoothly.

She wanted 2 f*.
F*** vulnerability.
The only way out!

He was cheatin' on
Her. Expat. She was back home.
I too am hurt, M.

Attraction is short.
Kate Bush was playing as she
drank her wine alone.

ONS? Was it?
Does she have to pay for it?
With the pill? So scared!!!

No condoms needed.
Got it under control, girl.
She's yet to find out.

Her friend's abortion,
She didn't care as much. Why would she?
Now she does. Too late.

What will she tell them?
Her girls? She barely knows him.
Baby on the way?

She wants to hug him!
The perfume. The same. She's bought.
Unisex. He's left.

Wine. Food. Massage. Sex.
She thought they were making love.
A cab in 5. Night.

I want to f*** you u.
I like u. No divorce planned.
Go figure, sweet babe.

Body teaches

By Maša Hilčišin

There was a time when my body was not safe—my boundaries were crossed, and I didn’t have the words or tools to protect myself. I didn’t even know what the word “boundary” meant. The journey toward healing has been long, and it is still unfolding.

As I began to learn about boundaries, I also uncovered a deep, buried anger—anger at the pain my body endured, especially in my childhood and teenage years. For a long time, I carried shame, confusion, and silence. But slowly, I started to reclaim something I had lost.

I learned the power of saying no. I learned to honor my body—not just as something that had been hurt, but as something beautiful, worthy, and whole. This process of healing is an act of resistance and self-love. Through my art, I give space to both the pain and the power that lives within me.

Body

Untitled

By Lyla Rose

[trigger warning]

I used to think it happened to shy girls girls that couldn't stand up for themselves that couldn't scream, kick, yell, report

I guess I was trying to rationalize the staggering statistics But now I know that I was victim blaming

Last year [at the time it was 2017] I was at a day drink. I was rolling a cigarette when a dark, man came up to me -I don't mean that his skin was dark, it was his features. I remember he had sharp cheek bones, black hair, and dark eyes.

He seemed impressed that I was rolling my own cigarettes and asked if he could have one. I answered - "If you can roll it you can smoke it." I wasn"t really in the mood to talk

He sat down next to me and started telling me about his job in LA; how he was visiting a frat brother of his forthe weekend.

I remember turning to face him and saying:"You know, we don't need to talk. We can just sit here in silence and smoke our cigarettes." He was offended and muttered "What's wrong with you?"

I apologized. I told him I just wanted to go home and smoke weed.

An hour later I saw him inside a fraternity. He was smiling and holding a bong - "You wanted to smoke"; I felt guilty that I had been rude to him before and agreed to follow him into a nearby room to smoke.

As soon as we walked in he locked the door behind us. He turned off the lights and put the bong by the bed he started kissing me. He ripped open the front of my dress and then stuck his fingers to what felt like was my stomach. My body froze.

My mind was trying to process what was going on but it was taking too long to communicate that to my body.

"Don't act like you don't want it. You've been teasing me all day", he said.

I scrambled underneath him, trying to reach for the sides of my dress.

"We just met", I said, shaking my head. "I've got to go find my friends." I got up to leave.

He got angrier, impatient. "Your friends left you", he said.

My hand fumbled with the door handle. He continued - "I just saw them leave. I can drive you home after.”

I looked down at the broken buttons on my dress. I looked at him. "You're sick" I said. And he smiled. He fucking smiled. #metoo