LETTER
Hello Brave Warriors!
Welcome to November. Today, we’re declaring the winners of our “What is Love?” contest.
Thank you to everyone who seized the prompt and ran with it.
All entries will be displayed on the home screen, later today. Winners will be awarded $25 each. Please send your PayPal details to hello@zuvaseven.com to receive your prize. Payments will be made within 3 working days.
It was a tough decision to make but here we go!
Our Runners-up!
Poetry
In My Bath, No One Can Touch Me, Except Me — Darcy Reeder
Non-Fiction
Our Winners!
Poetry — A Yellow Butterfly — Rajesh Vairapandian
Her broken pieces reflect
the full moon;
A yellow butterfly
perched on her soul
incessantly.
Non-fiction (sorry for pulling a Booker Prize but I couldn’t decide)
I Loved My Father Through His Absence — Charlie Bartlett
A parent doesn’t have to be physically gone for them to be absent: something I experienced with my mum. Her battle with depression throughout my life often made it impossible for her to be present for me.
And yet, the love, this storge feeling, has not left me. I still find it buried like a bone; or watching from the corner of my brain, or sitting atop me while I sleep. I got to meet my father when I was sixteen, and we are ten years into our relationship. Nothing is perfect but love persists.
What Is Love? A Story of Storge — Chloe Cuthbert
He is mine, just as sure as if I’d carried him in my body. Strangely, he even looks like me. He acts like me. He’s my tiny partner in crime. It’s not possible for me to love him more.
Storge is Ancient Greek for familial love. I’m sure they meant family by blood, but I don’t care. I’ve chosen my family for myself since I was a teen. I chose to be a mother to this child, and I continue to choose him every single day.
Shoutouts!
Coming Out of the Queer Closet — Nicole Bedford
Black families typically don’t view children as individuals nor do they respect the autonomy and choices of black children. With homophobia often being the default setting thanks to the overly religious and right-wing conservative thought processes of black people, queer children are more seen as being devil-possessed and in need of an exorcism or prayer circle; as opposed to love and acceptance.
My Mom is Embarrassed By My Body — Jessica Hillis
Remember, I’m 35 at this point. I don’t much need a lecture from my mom on what is appropriate to wear to a church wedding. I do have at least a little bit of class. It’s not like the dress was showing off that much.
“Put a sweater on!”
“But I like it off. It looks better like that. What’s wrong with this?”
“That” she said, indicating my full body, “is embarrassing.”
I was in utter shock. It felt like she had just slapped me right across the face. The sting is still there.
Learning To Navigate My Immigrant Father’s Unrealistic Expectations — Olivia Rojas
I always seemed to be “too much” for my father. I was too loud when I should have been quiet and too shy when I should have been outgoing. I was expected to navigate cultural norms that were never taught to me and I remember sobbing after my dad yelled at me when I did not jump up to hug a great uncle who I didn’t even know and who I could not communicate with because I did not speak Spanish.
I understand now he was dealing with his own feelings of raising a family in a culture so different from his own, but it definitely left me with a feeling of inadequacy at a young age.
Do Not Touch Me — Charlie Bartlett
When I was seventeen, a relative asked me if they could pay me to touch me. For years this has haunted me: the figure, by the bed, fingers fumbling me awake, with desperation and perverse begging to let them.
Today, I think, shit, at least he asked and didn’t just take — not excusing his behavior in the slightest — . As so many people do. This world views bodies that don’t adhere to the white cis-male able-bodied archetype as up for grabs; for the taking.
Excuse Me While I Flap My Fat Arms To Escape This Conversation — Katherine Taylor
I lifted my arm and shook it hard, watching her face fall as the fat waved back at her. “Personally, I’m hoping that in a few years I’ll have big enough wings to glide over traffic.”
She didn’t see the humor in my aspiration of being a flying squirrel. She actually looked pretty pale.
I smiled sweetly and left her to finally finish my shopping.
I wasn’t lying about wanting to fly with my arm fat one day. Ever since I was kid and heard the term “bat wings” I’ve thought gliding would be a great idea.
Mental Illness Is An Ongoing Battle With Yourself — ZUVA
I find it so strange that there are people in this world who are just fine. Who wake up fine, can have ‘normal’ human interactions. Who don’t take dating sabbaticals because intimate relations are triggers — deciding to date only when therapy has started. People who don’t have to restrict things like their wardrobe, to centre themselves. Where leaving the house, is exactly that.
Poetry!
My Identity Thief — Depression — Shannah Jaye
No one ever taught me the power of prayer,
No matter how heavy, my burdens he can bear.Depression made me want to disappear,
Poof be gone, evaporate in midair.
I’m Agape And That’s How I See The World — Abdullah I. Shawaf
When I see a broken heart
I try to make it smile
because in my world,
every heart deserves love and light.I’m Agape
And I will love you, no matter who you are.
Monsters Don’t Scare Me Anymore — Eraes Ellis
Monsters don’t scare me anymore.
Today is my day — and you’re running out of timeThe spirits are on my side, you see.
Little man, the real monster in your world is me.
Mama Say Naa Something….. — Vishal Nishad
Why you steal money from Papa(father) pocket?
When i will wear the dress you bought?
Why you don’t eat with me at night?
mama say naa something
mama say naa something
The Dark Prince of Disasters — Ariel Lee
And no one ever warns the little girls about the boys with pretty eyes who smell like smoke and tastes like scotch. No one ever tells them that these boys are gonna be wild days of bliss and saturnine nights of tear soaked pillows.
Girls like us, we have to learn on our own, because we’re just moths to the flame; mesmerized and haunted by what could be. I knew better, but all I could do was inch closer to the fire until I burned.
A Sense of Magnitude — Samantha Brightwell
You linger and fade, without a host to sing your praise. I am a luminous source, no longer shivering in the faint glow of your brown dwarf. I revolve timelessly and spring forth galaxies in my divinity. I do that. Not you.
Spotlight Article
The spotlight article this week has a Hallowe’en flavour: Horror Movies Can Be Good For Anxiety by Ashley Abramson, published in Elemental yesterday. It caught my eye because it chimes with my own experience from the days when anxiety was really kicking my ass, and I’ve often wondered if there’s something in it.
The idea is that horror movies can offer a type of exposure therapy that could be really helpful for people with anxiety. It’s a thoughtful and interesting read.
Since the bodily sensations that come with fear can feel intense and overwhelming, exposure to scary things in a controlled setting like a movie theater or the comfort of a living room could, theoretically, could help someone who tends to avoid situations where they may feel afraid. But there’s one caveat: To benefit from the scary movies, you actually have to let yourself feel the fear.
“If you have the intention to get control of the anxiety, what you have to do is learn that you can tolerate it,” Lindgren says. “Part of it is about learning what does happen when you feel afraid and blocking the avoidance. You have to hang in there and stay with it until you learn that you don’t have to be worried about what happens when you feel afraid.”


