Unspoken Confidence

I feel good again. I feel life again. I'm no longer empty of joy. it feels good to know that someone thinks of me periodically, even if it's nothing physical. I feel hope again. I know it's coming my way - I feel the greatest gift of life and that's peace. I feel the wind beneath me - I could stand atop a tree. I'm feeling all those feelings. I feel lonely no more. I feel blessed to have you read me. I feel like I'm never going back again to the cold, emptiness. I feel loved by family and friends. I feel luck when you see me - I feel like nobody could make me happy but me. I feel comfort in my loneliness. I feel like I've been talking to a beautiful being. I feel like nobody was meant to understand me. I feel like heaven is within my reach. I feel like nobody owes me anything. I feel like I'll be happy if you never see me because you've given me the greatest joy. Silence.

"For Women Who are Difficult to Love" by Warsan Shire

“you are a horse running alone
and he tries to tame you
compares you to an impossible highway
to a burning house
says you are blinding him
that he could never leave you
forget you
want anything but you
you dizzy him, you are unbearable
every woman before or after you
is doused in your name
you fill his mouth
his teeth ache with memory of taste
his body just a long shadow seeking yours
but you are always too intense
frightening in the way you want him
unashamed and sacrificial
he tells you that no man can live up to the one who
lives in your head
and you tried to change didn’t you?
closed your mouth more
tried to be softer
prettier
less volatile, less awake
but even when sleeping you could feel
him travelling away from you in his dreams
so what did you want to do love
split his head open?
you can’t make homes out of human beings
someone should have already told you that
and if he wants to leave
then let him leave
you are terrifying
and strange and beautiful
something not everyone knows how to love.”

What Love Feels Like

I see ordinary people in extraordinary places. I feel ordinary among those extraordinary spaces. I feel no wind beneath me. I feel no spark within me. That is how I treat love, and how love treats me. It hasn't been the warmest to me. It hasn't given me a chance to breath - a chance to speak. It won't seek me. It won't feed me. It won't show me anything I could handle - it shows me what I've been missing. It wants me to feel helpless. Though I am h o p e l e s s about love.

11/26/13

I wish we could reverse into Wednesdays soft kisses. 

Thursdays groping hands and exploring secret places. 

Fridays caring glances and wiped tears. 

Saturdays fervent loving, pulsating rhythms to an early clock. 

And Sundays relaxing touch, fingers saying goodbye.



I miss you staring at me, no words just feeling.  Laughter and smiles between kisses.  The smell of your neck as your arms circle me.  Holding hands across the front seat, chuckling at your ashiness.  Rubbing my fingers through your hair.  But most of all your kindness I feel between our hearts.  The safety.  The care.


The potential space between us and love is real.


I'm restless to explore it.

The sound of your silence

These feelings that I've had aren't fertile. I've been carrying a 3-year-old in my chest for months.

The time to change my behavior has come. There's no end to my thoughts. I want you to want me. That shouldn't be difficult to understand - there's no science behind it. I've been wanting to hear you speak - so bad that it brings me to a terrible place. You won't allow it, and I ask myself why. 'Why' do you reach me - on the safest terms? 'Why' won't you give me a ring? 'Why' do you force me to suppress my feelings?

Everything that I've been feeling is releasing itself to the part of me that knows I could walk away any given moment. But I rather stay and lose myself to your charm. I want to love you in the safest way and provide you with the safest acts of it - kisses, hugs, hands, stares, massages, conversations, etc. Nothing that I'm able to do with you across states. Why don't you realize that I've tried to expose you to my inner-most thoughts and reasons why you should see my world? Oh, how it isn't a world without you. It didn't mean a lot to tell you that I get nervous during interviews, but sharing the music that I love with you was a milestone.

You're too beautiful and you might not be worth anything to have. But what does it all mean if I can't hear you.

Cultivating Hope

Top Five Turn-Offs

Presented with the difficult task of handing off my phone number to a couple of guys this weekend, (after a loong dry spell-7 months to be exact) I stumbled across the enlightened reason why I don't give my number out to random guys I meet at parties.  1. We usually have nothing in common except for the fact that we went to the same event 2. There's nothing worse than a dude approaching you saying,"Yo, my boy likes you..." (so where is he??) 3. That awkward moment when you ask "How old are you?", and he says " I'm not old but...30." Whoops!

Anyways, here are my top 5 tunroffs when meeting someone new, as per the mistakes I came across this weekend.

Lovers and Friends: How They Met

This semester, narrative journalism has appeased the pleasures that come with "soft news" or what I like to call flowery writing. Imagery, says vs. said quotes, scene setters, physical descriptions. Confronted with the angle of happy love, this story tells readers how Bushra Mollick met Joe Damiani.

Bushra Mollick remembers strolling into a Media Law class at Stony Brook University  – as usual, she was low on energy and high on caffeine – a year and half ago. Her walk-ins caught the attention of 19-year-old classmate Joe Damiani.

“It was the dresses she wore stumbling into class all the time,” says Damiani, a six-foot, seven-inch sophomore.

What's Love Got to Do with It?

Oh love, what would we do without you? Love is complicated, it's intense, it makes us do really fun, wild, thoughtless things and it makes us do really compassionate, caring things.

But mostly, really crazy things.

Welcome to our Manless World

Hello blogosphere, internet users, middle-aged moms, college students, single dads, teachers, lawyers, astronauts, etc. We are the XY Girls.  This is our home, our space to reflect, dwell, bash, trash and vent about all things masculine and man-related going on in our lives.

We crossed paths a year ago, and found a similar creative vein in our written expression, as well as the fact that neither of us understand men.  Our frustrations united most of our conversations and with some laughter and a light bulb this idea was formed.

To be clear, this isn't the place for hate.  Hate is a very strong word and being straight (young) females in America, who probably will, one day in the EXTREMELY far future, end up married, we can't say we hate men. 

But here is a list of the following that can be used to describe them:   abhor, abominate, despise, detest, laothe, disapprove, disdain, deplore...you get the picture.

This is however, our attempt to not only explain why we feel this way about men, but also share our experiences with them in some self-therapy attempt (also, seeing as we're both writers, kinda trying to find our personal writing voice as well).

So, that being said: buckle up, let our journey entertain you, and maybe get some clarity in your own life as we ride the wave that is The XY.

Easy Come, Easy Go

Neither baggy jeans nor limp-walking suit Ahmed. Unlike the majority of 20 somethings in New York City, Ahmed carries a poise that doesn't include spewing curse words at women. He's the minority.

Standing at 6 feet and 3 inches talls, Ahmed sticks his chin in and tucks his hands - away from his face - deep in his front pockets. I admired him from afar. With sharp cheek bones and a mystique ambiance, Ahmed resembled a hungry village man - tall in statute; slim in the waist. He also looked like an African model bearing the deepest shade of chocolate.

Ahmed because he didn't seek attention. Just like me - had somewhat of a quiet confidence.

Murmuring thoughts aloud was the closest I came to expressing my feelings. At a school tasting event in 2011, Ahmed waited online for a plate of food - in the same crouch-like position - he appeared to be at first sight.