Words matter. Let’s call a spade a spade.

Photo by Maria Oswalt on Unsplash

If you’ve clicked on this piece, you may feel that I plan to try to convince you to vote for Biden. I don’t. You may think that I want to pummel you with reasons to become pro-choice. But, no. I’m not interested in that either.

I’m not writing this to criticize you for your religion, or even to try to understand why you feel the way that you do.

I should say right up front — if you clicked into this article as a troll, hoping to cause a fight with me in my comments section, you’ll find yourself terribly…


Her recent Instagram videos have sparked concerns about her mental health, and conspiracy theories about her conservatorship

Photo from Billboard

“This poor woman. I just hope she’s alright,” my friend said to me as she sent a link to Britney Spears’ latest Instagram video. In the video, Britney — excited about a floral arrangement she received — showed off the flowers. But then, the flowers were gone from the frame, the music began to play, and Britney walked in and out of the frame. Repeatedly.

“What… is she doing?” I asked my friend.

“I’m not sure, but she’s been posting things like this,” my friend responded. “Her fans are concerned about her mental well-being.”

I don’t follow Britney Spears on…


Congratulations — you’ve correctly interpreted the meaning of my glaring eye-roll

Photo by Mika Baumeister on Unsplash

Last night, I watched an old episode of The X-Files.

This particular episode was pretty infamous when it aired — after it was shown, FOX never aired it again — and after watching it last night, I understand why. It was pretty gruesome.

I’m not going to do an entire recap — but in a nutshell, some children playing baseball find a dead baby buried in their makeshift baseball diamond. This discovery leads to Scully and Mulder arriving on the scene in rural Pennsylvania. They realize that the baby had so many genetic disorders that it would have been difficult for the baby to sustain life. …


The world is on fire, and I don’t want to pretend that it’s not

Photo by Ashley Whitlatch on Unsplash

I’ve never been someone who “looks on the bright side.”

Phrases like “At least…” or “It could be worse!” or “Look at the silver lining here” have always offended me as they often invalidate an individual’s feelings, and I’ve worked hard to strike them from my vernacular.

I don’t ignore the bright side; I acknowledge it — in the same way that I acknowledge the negatives. Rarely do we find one without the other.

Right now, my social media feeds are dichotomous. On one side, I have those passionate about social justice, railing against the inequality, and inequity running rampant through the United States. This side is imploring others to…


Monthly Newsletter, June 3, 2020

Welcome to June, Fearless readers and writers.

While we generally try to keep our newsletters light and positive, we cannot go on with business as usual.

To our POC readers and writers:

We are not going to waste your time by telling you about our feelings and thoughts. We want you to know that while we will never understand the pain you’re dealing with, we see you. We love you. We’re here to listen. We’re committed to fighting alongside you. We’re committed to doing better.

To our white writers:

We understand that everyone is angry and currently reflecting upon their own experiences with race and law enforcement. However, we ask that you please refrain from submitting stories…


If you feel like whining that your state’s mask mandate makes it “hard to breathe,” instead, take the time to imagine having a knee crushing your windpipe.

Photo by Ben Koorengevel on Unsplash

It’s been a hard week.

I lay in my bed last night staring at the ceiling, not sleeping, my mind whirring. A couple of days prior, I had watched the video of George Floyd’s murder — because that’s what it was, murder — and I couldn’t get the image out of my head.

Hours before I watched that video, I watched the video of Amy Cooper, hands on her hips, head tilted to the side with sass, saying, “Well I’m going to call the police and tell them an African-American man is threatening my life!”

I’m a woman. I understand completely how terrifying it would…


Do you intend to vent, or educate?

Photo by Clem Onojeghuo on Unsplash

I read an article the other day that implored me to care about climate change. Well, implored isn’t the right word. It yelled at me to care about climate change, and scolded me for not caring enough.

I do care about climate change. That’s why I was reading the article. But, at the end of it, the only thing I wondered was, Was this intended to teach me something, or simply scream at me for my carbon footprint?

It seems like, as writers, we should be able to do both. We should be able to educate people with our screaming…


Tip #1: Disregard all tips

Photo by James Fitzgerald on Unsplash

In 2014, my close friend and I through-hiked the Appalachian Trail. We flew down to Atlanta on February 28th, were on the trail on March 1st, and summited Mt. Katahdin in Maine on July 14th.

Since my state went on lockdown for COVID-19 in March, I’ve had a lot of time to think — and I’ve found myself reminiscing on my hike regularly.

Six years ago today I was traipsing my way through Pennsylvania! I think to myself. Those rolling farmlands were gorgeous.

Every year, I’ve reflected on my hike, and I’ve felt nostalgic. This year though, the nostalgia has…


Why the littlest members of society must know the value of bodily autonomy

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

The last time I visited my parents, my sister and my niece were staying with them as well. My niece is two-and-a-half, and the light of all of our lives. She’s pint-sized and ferociously independent, and we all enjoyed the time together spoiling her.

At the end of the visit, we were standing in the kitchen, getting ready to say our goodbyes.

“Allie can I have a hug?” my mother asked my niece.

“Hugs in car,” my niece responded, toddling toward the door.

“No,” my sister replied. “Mimi and Maggie aren’t going in the car with us. Papa is going…


Your choices don’t only impact you

Photo by Element5 Digital on Unsplash

On last night’s FaceTime call, my friend lamented the rise of Joe Biden.

“I don’t think he’s a good person,” he said. “I don’t like these allegations against him. I don’t like that he’s the same old thing; is a vote for Biden even different than a vote for Trump? Would anything change with Biden as our president?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

I don’t know. I have no idea. I doubt it, honestly, but I still feel a sliver of hope. If nothing else, I believe we’d be safe from him saying that “there are very fine people on both sides” — when one side is comprised of literal Nazis.

“What would…

Maggie Lupin

eternal feminist | avid reader | bumbling writer | animal advocate | cupcake connoisseur | hopeful cynic |

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