…and then something unexpected happened.

Photo by Eugene Chystiakov on Unsplash

This week, I accidentally sent a sexually explicit text to my employer.

She is one of my tutoring clients, the mother of one of my students. I have my own business as a tutor for elementary-age children. I love kids, and it’s one of my side hustles to keep me out of debt.

It was an ordinary Wednesday morning. I woke up, rolled out of bed, and looked at the clock. When I saw it, I instantly panicked. I had overslept for my 9:00 tutoring lesson. …

They’re not as important as you think.

Photo credit: Vecteezy (<a href=”https://www.vecteezy.com/free-vector/hand">Hand Vectors by Vecteezy</a>)

Do claps really matter?

This was the question ringing through my head on a lonely weekday afternoon as I scrolled through my Medium profile. I’d been reading some stories from the publications I follow and noticed that they had been getting literally thousands of claps. Feeling a little insecure, I started clicking on each one of my stories, trying to figure out what my average amount of claps was.

I’ve been on Medium for just shy of a year now, and I’ve only ever had one story go viral. Sure, I’ve had some other successful pieces — I’ve had ones…

It’s about more than just a difference of opinion.

Photo by Noah Buscher on Unsplash

“Zach* and I are in a fight again,” my friend informed me one Friday night as we sat alone together at her place, watching TV.

Zach is her boyfriend, and they’ve been together for just under a year. There’s a fairly large age difference between them, and to top it all off, they’re long distance, so they’ve certainly had their fair share of challenges.

“What about?” I asked.

She began a long explanation about how he was upset that she sent him a gift for his birthday. (I know, it sounds ungrateful on the surface, right?) Supposedly this turned into…

Can we stop assuming that they are?

Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

Last week, I was driving my friend home from work when she proclaimed, “I’m sort of having a gender crisis right now and I’m considering changing my pronouns.”

“Oh?” I responded. “Why?”

I didn’t feel as if my friend needed to justify herself (nor does anyone who is considering switching their pronouns or has a difference in identity or expression), but I’ve known her for a long time, and when she brings something up out of the blue like that, it means she needs to talk about it. …

Here’s how I did it — and these 4 tips can help you do it too.

Photo by Neel on Unsplash

In January 2021, one of my Medium articles went viral.

It came as a huge surprise. It went viral roughly 14 days after I had published it, so I wasn’t expecting it to succeed; I had been checking the stats for days and the numbers remained painfully low, at a mere 35 viewers. One morning, though, I woke up and the numbers had skyrocketed. It wasn’t even 10am yet, and three thousand people had already read my story.

I looked at the story’s stats. …

Just stop…please?

Photo by Atikh Bana on Unsplash

I’ve been single for five years now. Voluntarily single, that is.

Compared to most people I know, that’s a long time. Of course, I’ve had crushes and flings and I’m not totally shut off from the dating scene, but I haven’t made it much of a priority. And I’m happy as a clam. I’m independent, focusing on my career and pursuing my degree, strengthening my friendships and learning how to be spontaneous, and getting to know myself again. (And before you ask: yes, you can do and be all of these things while in a relationship. …

Try doing these things and watch your creativity flourish.

Photo by Sherise VD on Unsplash

It happened in the dead of winter.

It was mid-February 2021, and I hadn’t written for weeks — not anything for Medium, nor in my online diary. I hadn’t written a single poem or short story. Not even so much as a paragraph summarizing my day.

I sat down at my computer and tried desperately to create something. My fingers rested on the smooth keyboard, anxious to tap away and write my next masterpiece. But nothing came. My mind fell blank, void of ideas. It was as if my brain was speechless.

Inside my head, my emotions were stirring. There…

Why didn’t anyone tell me this existed?

Photo by Thirteen .J on Unsplash

It happened on a cold February morning.

I was scrolling through Instagram when I came upon a thought-provoking post. It was National Eating Disorder Awareness Week, and the post had come from someone who was opening up about their binge-eating disorder. They discussed their relationship to food, the compulsions to cling to it for comfort, the frustration that BED was so seldom discussed in pop culture and mainstream media. The story resonated with me strongly. I found myself nodding to each of their points, identifying a little too closely with the message.

And then a thought rushed through my head…

It’s my own version of protest

Photo by Jose Martinez on Unsplash

“Wait… you’re bi?!”

I’ve gotten this exclamatory reaction more times than I can count. It happens when I nonchalantly mention my bisexuality in conversation, or when I discuss my attraction to women in public. People do a double-take, stunned that I’ve never mentioned anything about this before.

The reason some people react like this is because I don’t ordinarily tell people that I’m bisexual. I’ve never had a big coming out moment with friends or family or anyone else. I’ve never sat anyone down and said, “I just want you to know I’m bisexual.”

You might be wondering why I…

Women can’t even write without being harassed.

Photo by Mateus Campos Felipe on Unsplash

It happened in February.

One of my articles had gone viral for the first time. I was overjoyed, to say the least. I was on a high and no one could bring me down. Each day, I would giddily check my stats, smiling each time I saw success. I’d check my notifications for any new comments. I loved knowing what other people thought of my story, my writing, my presence. Whether the comments were good or bad, supportive or hateful, it was exciting just to know that people finally had eyes on my work. …

Brooklyn Reece

(she/her) Writer. Teacher. Leftist. City enthusiast. Spreading love through words. Find me on IG @brooklynxreece or email me: brooklynreece.writer@gmail.com.

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