My jaw has shifted, face now square-ish instead of round
The sporadic silver strands that used to shock people when noticed, now frame my hairline
Breasts once small cones that barely needed a bra, now large womanly teardrops–
Hips wider, chin hairs starting to gray even
Age
My age
gently emerges and with each shift I notice a woman,
who–despite all the “musts” her culture and society handcuffed her with,
chooses to be herself
After all isn’t that the American Dream?
Sonia Chintha is an Indian American writer who lives in the Washington DC area. She blogs, writes poetry, and fiction. She is also an English teacher who believes that our experiences teach us more than any test. She is the founder and co-editor of Good Little Girls.
‘Twas the week before the end of the quarter Not a soul could be found relaxing All were stressed, grading everything they saw Grading and
grief that tastes of absent ice cream bars at the airport,
what is a welcome back to a hometown without a beloved tradition?
a perfectly sweet candy,
gummy to the mouth,
but sticking to the teeth.
konjac eaten too quickly can catch and choke.
gulp it down so that you can save yourself,
Change. Inevitable. Constant. Challenging. Anxiety-ridden. Good. Bad. In my twenties, change came after hours of living in “what-ifs”. I work-shopped the “what-ifs” with every human
Where is My Long Sword by Sonia Chintha Illustration by Jill Kimura Edited by Parivash Fahim Goff & Andrea Nevin air in, fill the body