I lost my mom, not my need or ability to be mothered.

Seventeen years ago, the trill of a million cicadas greeted my sisters and me as we left the church where our mother raised us. They landed on our car and shouted above our grief as we followed the…


There are three things I hate more than anything in the world. Three things that I find terrifying, horrifying and down-right creepy:

  1. Porcelain Dolls,
  2. Clowns, and
  3. Puppets.

When I was ten, a family friend returned from a trip to Germany with a gift. I quietly hoped for a dozen Kinder…


Collaboration, not competition, is the heart and soul of the writing life.

This morning I met a fellow Girl Trek member, or Trekker, as we call ourselves. I spotted her rocking her SuperHero Blue and we immediately connected over the blessing of the Girl Trek Black History Bootcamp Podcast and…


At this moment

There is a bird singing that doesn’t know

She was never supposed to be here.

Invasive Species.

Foreign Song.

And yet she sings

Boldly and beautifully

And…


Today Disney+ released the 1997 film version of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella. After 24 years (yes, that made me feel old too), the film still holds up as a beautiful rendition of a classic tale and a powerful example of how inclusionary casting makes good art.

I was six years…


I won’t be going to any Christmas parties this year.

It hit me while boxing up my crop tops and hauling out my sweaters for winter. …


This Is Us

You don’t get to disrespect me and still keep me

A confident Black woman standing against a prairie-like background.
Photo: Btihal Remli/Getty Images

We’re not friends.

There. I said it.

You and I are not friends anymore, and in the deepest parts of me, I wonder if we ever were.

Seriously. I question the things between us — the energy, history, past.

I thought I could tell you everything. All my sins and…


There’s a scene in “I Am Not Your Negro” where a 1950s housewife is twirling about in her kitchen, doing basic June Cleaver-esque things. In the background you hear a reading of James Baldwin’s that talks about the grotesque violence of it all.

I keep replaying that scene in my…


I think it was empathy we were afraid of —

When we took our vows.

Vows of celibacy, abstinence

Refusing to be a part of a world we could not escape,

Terrified of getting close enough to cling to something real.

We were afraid of failing.

And of knowing what…


I wonder what it would be like to see your name light up my phone

Three simple white letters lighting up against the black

As it pulsates across the table.

I don’t get calls often.

These days it’s mostly telemarketers

With area codes from places I haven’t lived in years,

Victoria Meléndez

Spirituality | Racial Justice | Friendship

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