Category: JENNA’S JOURNALS

Et Tu, Brute?

Jenna July 16, 2021 No Comments

We fight for our places in this world. We are in a constant war between ourselves and the people around us, their expectations of us that we could never possibly

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Creativity

Jenna June 30, 2021 No Comments

We tell each other to create things, but then we judge each other for what we created and how we created it. The inner critic inside ourselves is the hardest

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The Critic

Jenna June 23, 2021 No Comments

We all have it, that inner critic inside your head that keeps telling you that you are doing it wrong, that you are a piece of shit, that you need

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Days of Birth

Jenna June 8, 2021 No Comments

Birthdays are something that I am starting to not understand. They are weird. We celebrate the day that we are born with fun times with friends and family, gifts of

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A Fluidity of Identity

Jenna June 1, 2021 No Comments

As women we tend to have a myriad of titles bestowed upon us, some wanted and some that feel more like a sentencing. We are expected to be so much,

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Emotional Garbage Can

Jenna May 24, 2021 No Comments

Do you ever wonder about why Oscar the Grouch is so gosh darn grouchy? It’s like he spews anger and hate no matter what is happening around him. That’s what

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Mayday May Day

Jenna May 19, 2021 No Comments

Holding the tips of frayed ribbons We dance around the maypole, Celebrating yet another spring, Another rebirth Another beginning Another renewal. May was named after the Roman goddess Maia. Maia

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Receptive Foundations

Jenna May 12, 2021 No Comments

I’ve been thinking a lot about foundations lately. Good old Merriam-Webster (what dictionary are we supposed to be using these days anyway?) basically sums it up in another word –

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Masks

Jenna May 11, 2021 No Comments

I choose to live my life seasonally, honoring the ever-changing cycles with rituals. The Taurus New Moon reminds me to release the past, new beginnings. My womb follows this same

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Me & My White Privilege

Jenna May 8, 2021 1 Comment

My white privilege was showing, like a slip peeking out from under my skirt.

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