Author name: Magister

Passionate educator and writer with an interest in autonomy and feminism.


There’s this thing I do. I move. I continue. I begin, again. I rebuild. I expand. I grow. I become. I morph. Alchemy. I am good at it. It’s always astounding to get to the other side. Say, I have existed most of life a shadow of myself, going through the motions just because and

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Heart & Soul

The first time I heard her sing was the night we met, the moon came to listen too. The first time I watched her dance the universe stopped to witness her being. On these two occasions I noticed myself seeing her, wondering in complete awe. There was something about her existence, and every time I

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Aaah, Mother’s Day

I started publicly addressing my mother-wound in 2021. I was healing. I sat on the grass often; I watched the sky day and night, celebrating full moons in ritual. I was wrapped in so much love; the masks peeled off. Something had been missing all along; I wasn’t wrong. I started questioning it, why didn’t

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“It’s one of those days.” She tosses her phone as soon as she presses send, then rolls over. There is no way she is doing anything that can’t be done with her head on the pillow. Shifting a little to give her leg some freedom, she hits it. “Perfect!” “Maybe I should ask him to

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