Juliet Takes a Breath

by Gabby Rivera

“We are all women. We are all of the womb. It is in that essence of the moon that we share sisterhood”—that’s

“A fully realized woman is at all times her true self. No soul-crushing secrets or self-imposed burdens of shame, these create toxic imbalance, a spiritual yeast infection if you will. So step out into the fresh air and let that pussy breathe.”

But I fall asleep with that book in my arms because words protect hearts and I’ve got this ache in my chest that won’t go away.

“You must walk in this world with the spirit of a ferocious cunt. Express your emotions. Believe that the universe came from your flesh. Own your power, own your connection to Mother Earth. Howl at the moon, bare your teeth, and be a goddamn wolf.”

All the moments where I was made to feel like an outsider in a group that was supposed to have room for me added up and left me feeling so much shame.

You want answers. Make your own religion out of doubt and curiosity. Don’t go running after one God.”

“It’s everyone’s job to come up with a theodicy. One that has room for every inch of who they are and the person they evolve into.”

“It’s not about having a ‘dominant voice.’ It’s about women of color owning their own space and their voices being treated with dignity and respect. It’s about women of color not having to shout over white voices to be heard. We are the dominant force almost all the time. White women are the stars of all the movies. White women are the lead speakers in feminist debates, and it’s little white girls that send the nation into a frenzy when they’ve been kidnapped. So if for, like, one or two hours in a small classroom somewhere in Oregon, a group of women of color have a workshop and have decided to open it up to us, we should be fucking grateful and not whining about how we’re not the most important or equally as important. Our entire existence is constantly being validated and yeah, we have lots of shit to deal with because of the patriarchy. But for goddess sake, check your privilege. We’re the ones that need to give women of color space for their voices.”

was suspicious of the Bible. It had never been particularly forthcoming when it came to stories about women. Mary Magdalene wasn’t really a hooker, and Eve didn’t force Adam to eat that apple. What did painting women as untrustworthy or whorish have to do with God’s love anyway? Those stories weren’t even about women directly.

She lit white candles and red candles around the porcelain tub. In the corner of the bathroom, she burned a cinnamon incense stick, offering its smoky sacrifice to a Virgin Mary candle. She ran warm water into the bathtub while I was sitting in it. The water warmed my toes, calmed my senses. Harlowe spread rose petals and drops of lavender oil into the water. She poured a bit of violet-infused soap in there as well.

Harlowe brought me a cup of peppermint tea. She presented me with comic books and a packed bowl full of fresh bud.

Right now all of your heat is centralized in your ovaries, and that’s what makes you feel like someone is stomping on your lady bits. Drink tea to balance your core temperature.”

“Weird is the only way to live,” she said,

My parents raised me to believe that I should be proud to live in the land of the free. But what the heck did any of that mean if it came at the cost of other people’s countries and lives? So, like, I’m free but your whole entire life has been gutted and everyone you know is either dead or indebted to some gringo corporation?

Ask the questions that make you feel like your heart is blasting out of your chest.

Maybe America just swallowed all of us, including our histories, and spat out whatever it wanted us to remember in the form of something flashy, cinematic, and full of catchy songs. And the rest of us, without that firsthand knowledge of civil unrest and political acts of disobedience, just inhaled what they gave us.

“To love another woman is to streak naked across the sky, swallow the sun in one bite, and live aflame. To love another woman is to look at yourself in the mirror and determine that you are worthy of the galaxy and its fury. To love another woman is to love yourself more than you love her.”

and in the middle of it all: all of the self-empowerment, all of the radical womanhood, all of the community-building. You will still feel wrecked. Allow yourself to be wrecked. Know that it is finite.” Raging Flower:

Harlowe urged her fellow white women to remember this and to never forget the vast amount of privilege they experience because of whiteness. It is the duty of white women to stand in solidarity with queer, trans, women of color, listen to their needs and make sure that feminism and sisterhood brings all of our voices together.

“Your one job is to just accept what a person feels comfortable sharing about themselves. No one owes you info on their gender, body parts, or sexuality.”

“Love all the vaginas you want, prima, just remember they’re attached to people. Okay? And it’s the people that matter most.”

What are you basing your ideas of womanhood on? You gotta question everything, especially who you give your love and respect to. This is about perspective, you know? Like, where do you stand?”

“And as for you, Juliet . . .” Titi Penny started. “You are your own person. If liking girls is a phase, so what? If it’s your whole life, who cares? You’re destined to evolve and understand yourself in ways you never imagined before. And you’ve got our blood running through your beautiful veins, so no matter what, you’ve been blessed with the spirit of women who know how to love.”