From the Corner of the Oval

by Beck Dorey-Stein

I think back on the last five years, on what I’ve ever really, truly needed. A sick playlist. A good book. A pumped-up basketball and half-decent vodka. Friends who want only friendship in return. Running shoes. I think of all the rules I’ve needed to live by, and all the rules I’ve needed to break. I’m done with tiptoeing; I’d rather dance around in my pink shoes. I don’t need to breathe quietly; I’d rather shout for an encore. I don’t need the Vagiants to approve of me when, frankly, I don’t approve of them. I’d rather set a new standard for all the Jessies who come after me; I’d rather help them look up, and be respected for the right reasons, not just because they were in the right place at the right time. The future is female because there’s a storm of kick-ass women on the rise who will remember to reach back with both hands to help others climb up with them.