Add to ORKGYesterday I was sick to my stomach. Literally. I tossed and turned all night, woke up and felt sick, and spent the first two hours of my day in bed trying to calm down while. I was worrying that I was a bad friend, student, and girlfriend. The hardest part was that I was criticizing myself for having these insecurities. It’s tough to get out of that cycle, but it’s what I need to do. [excerpt
As a young Latina, I grew up hiding the fact that I met with a therapist and that I suffered from de...
Over the summer, I visited a friend from Gettysburg who was having a party. The party was fun for th...
I push the door open slowly, hoping that I’ve gotten to class early enough that there aren’t a lot o...
I went through my childhood hearing these statements daily, for I lived with my abuser. While there ...
Whenever anybody asks me about my experience studying abroad, I lie. I tell them that it was transfo...
**Trigger warning: sexual assault I am afraid of my bed. I am also afraid of heather blue shirts. Me...
***TRIGGER WARNING: Eating Disorders*** I don’t care what anyone says—being a woman is hard. Being a...
Eating disorders are complex mental health disorders. The following stories and moments apply psycho...
I believe in empathy. In the hustle of our daily lives it’s easy to forget that there is an entire w...
The first time I was asked to sell my medication was after a small party sophomore year. I was start...
This collection is, more than anything, a series of self-portraits. It attempts to depict how variou...
When I was younger, I used to think there was something horribly wrong with me, as if I had this mor...
**TRIGGER WARNING** You are walking to class when you feel someone grab your butt with both hands. Y...
This paper shows a day in the life of a woman who sees herself as fat. Her reflection in the mirror ...
A non-fiction piece that explores the causes of the author’s depression while in college. While she ...
As a young Latina, I grew up hiding the fact that I met with a therapist and that I suffered from de...
Over the summer, I visited a friend from Gettysburg who was having a party. The party was fun for th...
I push the door open slowly, hoping that I’ve gotten to class early enough that there aren’t a lot o...
I went through my childhood hearing these statements daily, for I lived with my abuser. While there ...
Whenever anybody asks me about my experience studying abroad, I lie. I tell them that it was transfo...
**Trigger warning: sexual assault I am afraid of my bed. I am also afraid of heather blue shirts. Me...
***TRIGGER WARNING: Eating Disorders*** I don’t care what anyone says—being a woman is hard. Being a...
Eating disorders are complex mental health disorders. The following stories and moments apply psycho...
I believe in empathy. In the hustle of our daily lives it’s easy to forget that there is an entire w...
The first time I was asked to sell my medication was after a small party sophomore year. I was start...
This collection is, more than anything, a series of self-portraits. It attempts to depict how variou...
When I was younger, I used to think there was something horribly wrong with me, as if I had this mor...
**TRIGGER WARNING** You are walking to class when you feel someone grab your butt with both hands. Y...
This paper shows a day in the life of a woman who sees herself as fat. Her reflection in the mirror ...
A non-fiction piece that explores the causes of the author’s depression while in college. While she ...
As a young Latina, I grew up hiding the fact that I met with a therapist and that I suffered from de...
Over the summer, I visited a friend from Gettysburg who was having a party. The party was fun for th...
I push the door open slowly, hoping that I’ve gotten to class early enough that there aren’t a lot o...