family
Family life from the feminist perspective; can women have it all? Can anyone?
Why Do We Celebrate Daughter's Day?
Daughter’s day is the most special occasion to be celebrated by the parents who are all having the little princesses in their home. Usually, people sentimentally feel that having a daughter is a blessing of their life and they wish to give all love and affection without letting her meet any sadness or disappointments in her life.
By Laxmi Rana4 years ago in Viva
The Path of Women
The women in my family before me, they carved a path for me. This path at times winds gently through dew-damp forests, along sun-dappled streams and rivers. A canopy of leaves keep the sun-blistering heat of day at bay. When night descends it darkens the once cheery path where teeth and claws strike at unsuspecting prey. Sometimes the path meanders lazily though sunny meadowlands, to where winds gently bend the grasses seemingly with open arms to invite one for a rest. Other times, the path ascends over treacherous gravelly terrain along perilously rocky cliffs. Here, a millennia of thunderous storms have taken their toll on this stretch of road. Waves crash harshly over boulders and rocks that have broken off, falling thousands of feet below to their demise.
By Julie Godfrey5 years ago in Viva
Love Conquers All
My mother taught me unconditional love. She believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. She always held me on such a high pedestal, but I don’t feel as though I ever succeeded as being the daughter she truly needed. However, I still have time.
By Sonia Nesbitt Fronduto5 years ago in Viva
A Childless Daughter That Is A Motherless Child
The women who have gone through their fertile years escaping the world of motherhood, are cut from the same cloth. I find that the women who do not want children, felt this deep within their soul early in their life when they were in their late teenage years.
By Sandra Landau5 years ago in Viva
The Price of Strength
He’s going to die. The thought was crystal clear. It came unsolicited and rang through my mind like the toll of a bell. A singular thought independent of emotion as I found him in the hospital bed. My mind had already processed the information my eyes had provided. It took all of what…. thirty seconds? The rest of me had to play catch up.
By Gingerella 5 years ago in Viva
Painful Memories of Love
When I was little, about 6 years old, I was sitting in the back of my parent’s car, not on the seat with my seat belt on, but curled up on the floor. My dad was always very strict with safety. If we didn’t sit nicely in the car, he would stop the car, force our seat belts on and talk sense to my brother and me for as long as necessary before getting back in the driver’s seat.
By Ida Stokbaek5 years ago in Viva
Stranger's Heart
I sit in the dim parlor, waiting. The stiff horsehair cushions beneath me are a gaudy orange that nearly matches the peach of the drapes – both glaringly bright and sickeningly pale at once. The roses on the sampler in my hands weep in despair as I prick my finger yet again in my boredom. Across the room, the bright sunshine of the forbidden outdoors gleams tauntingly around the drapes. My eyes remain fixed on the dust motes sparkling in a sharp lance of light that pierces the gloom to land on the floor near my feet. Far in the distance, I can hear the sounds of people – voices shouting, the crunch of footsteps on the rough gravel paths, Cook yelling at someone out back in the garden. If only I could join them instead of being imprisoned in here.
By Carolyn Frank5 years ago in Viva
