I have been called a variety of names in my life. My birth certificate says my name is Chanelle Davis. That's not my name. That name wasn't even chosen for me. When I was seven I learned to write out Chanelle in cursive. I loved it. I would start with the curve of the capital… Continue reading Identity
I was a very emotional kid. I was a people pleaser. I think this stemmed from being adopted - I think most adopted kids struggle with feeling unwanted - even the very fortunate ones like me who were adopted and chosen by amazing families. I worried about people liking me and would take it very… Continue reading The Art of Not Giving A F***k.
The color of my skin never before occurred to me until I wanted to be the pink Power Ranger at recess and was told I had to be the yellow ranger because the pink ranger was white. This confused me because although my ethnicity has always been somewhat ambiguous , I did not have the… Continue reading Discolored Recollections
The warm evening breeze gently swept through my bedroom window bringing with it the smell of grass and what was left of the sunshine from the day. I watched the colors dance on the wall as the outside world had turned from gold to a cool lavender. I could hear the chorus of windchimes in… Continue reading Skin