It's Gilda, Not Gilda

Its Gilda, not Gilda

  • I, Gilda

    Is this real?  Did I remember that wrong? Is it me? Did I misunderstand? Am I too sensitive?  Oblivious? Possibly annoying? Did I misinterpret that eye roll?  Did they sigh with frustration, or with relief?  Am I not faceted enough… Continue reading

  • Ode to Bubbies

    When I was a teenager, I envisioned turning 18 to be like a magic portal to not only becoming a bonafide woman, wuhehman, WHOAAAAman, but also to where all my dreams would come true, where I could do whatever the… Continue reading

  • I’m a Streaking Feral Kitty

    I want to be pleasantly surprised. I am ecstatic when someone goes out of their way to show their affection. I thrive on connection. Something, anything to let me know that I am not alone. I feel like a feral… Continue reading

  • Just Say My Name

    The jarring feeling of being ghosted is unnerving. You pour everything into something and then bam, silence. Imagine that, but by them – the people who hold the power of your future healthcare. And imagine them not remembering your name… Continue reading

  • Dreams of being a Goddess

    Menopause is the ultimate take no-sh*t era, because our boundaries are becoming stronger, our respect is becoming more genuine, and we have stronger values alongside our deeper wisdom. When they forced me into menopause, I initially didn’t realize it was… Continue reading

  • Welcome to my Take No Sh*t-Era

    Before there was my “Take No Sh*it-Era,” there was 50 years of “Everything is Peachy-Era.”  That was when I was naive and a soft rose-colored veil covered my world with softness. I wasn’t oblivious, I was optimistic.  I have lived… Continue reading