Mensuration is a part of my life, PMS-ing is a part of my life, but it should not be my life. It should not control me. I may not like bleeding for five days, but I should at least be able to do so and still live a mentally stable life. It’s the least I deserve.

You know, I think I might actually be getting used to this place. Who knows, soon enough, I’ll be able to call it my home.

Because i’m so tired of watching my back walking from Trader Joes to walking to my friend’s apartment so we can go bouldering, sending my location to the group chat whenever i’m alone with someone at a restaurant or in a library, pretending to be on the phone when someone looks my way, scared about what would happen if I say no to someone who wants to get my number.

I want to live.

To my fellow survivors, I love you dearly. Thank you for making me feel safe enough to tell my story.

hint: it’s quite difficult

I can’t help but feel like just another black person in STEM and wonder whether these dreams I have are truly attainable, because sometimes it just feels impossible.