Holiday Cheer
Holiday Cheer

Christmas, a time for connecting with old friends.  In the week between Christmas and New Years Eve, people consider the age-old tradition of setting New Years resolutions.  Already I’ve seen countless memes wishing the end of 2016 away as the year to forget.  When we look back at 2016, we remember endless months of campaigning commercials; the Chicago Cubs finally won the World Series after 108 years, Brexit from the EU, Samsung’s misstep with the explosive Note 7.  But even more than that, remember the good stuff…and good stuff in 2016 exists.  Like my beautiful niece’s first birthday party, laughs shared with coworkers, parties with friends, and the first date that led to a relationship.

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Holiday StoriesJulia Nusbaumholiday stories, story, feministComment
The Clock
The Clock

I want to tell you about the time my sister, my mother, and I followed the desire of my sister’s heart. We went into the clock store at the mall. My sister went first when the idea came to her. She found the grandfather clock she believed would fit grandma’s house best—the one she thought grandma would want.

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Holiday StoriesJulia Nusbaumholiday stories, Feminist, storyComment
Ye Old Cat Shirt
Ye Old Cat Shirt

I resent Christmas more and more the older I get. It’s a combination of my lack of religion, my extreme laziness and my crippling anxiety. I stress myself out to the point of hyperventilation over how much money I’m going to spend (how many years can I skate by on homemade gifts before it becomes tacky?), what to get people (is it appropriate to just give someone a Target gift card if you’ve known them for over 10 years?), and about how I’m going to get it for them (do I shop online and hope that it ships in time, or do I brave the masses of the screaming kids and sweaty people at the mall?). Once I’ve got the gifts in hand, I look forward to the feeling of sweet, sweet relief that I get when I’ve handed them off, although I really don’t start to feel remotely relaxed until after the new year.

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Holiday StoriesJulia Nusbaumholiday stories, feminist, storyComment
The Amie Project
The Amie Project

We all lose people we love, and in my experience, there are so many things I wish I could have asked but never got the chance to. So, I dedicated an afternoon to asking my grandmother – who raised three kids, saw a good chunk of the world, was a military wife and then found herself raising me in retirement – some questions that I can cherish forever. I also took the opportunity to take some pictures of her house, a time capsule that has barely changed in my life. It turned out to be an incredibly emotional moment for me when I sat down later on and listened to her answers. I hope you enjoy this glimpse into her life.

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Our Grandmother's StoriesJulia Nusbaumgrandmother, story, feministComment
Grandma Rice: The Embodiment of Grace, Kindness, and Love
Grandma Rice: The Embodiment of Grace, Kindness, and Love

Evelyn Grace Swearman-Rice was my great-grandmother. Everyone in my family knew her simply as Grandma Rice. Everyone who knew her, including myself remember her as a sweet, gentle woman who loved everyone that she met. She always had something nice to say, and you never heard her swear. She’d give you her shoulder to cry on, a kiss to make you feel better and a whole mess of candy even if you weren’t supposed to eat any!

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Our Grandmother's StoriesJulia Nusbaumfeminist, grandmother, storyComment
Grandma Shoe’s Story
Grandma Shoe’s Story

On October 24, 2015 my grandmother, Virginia Shoemaker, turned 90. We had a huge celebration, with her family coming home from all across the US. She was over the moon thrilled. She loved being the center of attention and even more she loved being around so many people that she hardly ever gets to see. The day of her birthday she told me that she didn’t sleep a wink the night before because she was just so excited.

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Our Grandmother's StoriesJulia Nusbaumgrandmother, story, feministComment
Megabuses and Malort
Megabuses and Malort

The backstory:

It was my birthday. It was February 2014 in Chicago, Illinois. I was headed to a birthday party. It was not a birthday party for me (mine was the night prior), and I was heavily intoxicated because of that. I was hanging out with my ex-boyfriend (who is actually a great human and the best ex anyone could ask for) and his weird friend before the party, and part of me was concerned we would never actually make it to said party.

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My First DateJulia Nusbaummy first date, feminist, storyComment
Moves and Grooves with the (Not So) King of Salsa: My First Date Told From My Nineteen-Year-Old Self
Moves and Grooves with the (Not So) King of Salsa: My First Date Told From My Nineteen-Year-Old Self

Throughout most of my life, my nose and eyes stayed in school books and towards any school activity and campus program or organization I was involved in. Unlike my friends who were excited to peep all of the eye candy (ahem...little boys) on campus, I was more excited to have a bathroom in my bedroom in my dorm room, and even more excited for college essays and being the president of three clubs on campus. All while still learning to love myself (Biggest test ever by the way).

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My First DateJulia Nusbaumfeminist, my first date, storyComment
What I Learned from My Early Pregnancy Loss
What I Learned from My Early Pregnancy Loss

This lack of interest and compassion still haunts me to this day. I keep on wondering if I am entitled to my pain. Am I just carrying on? Am I being overly dramatic? I was and am hurting. Right after my loss, I was sad. I was angry. But above all, I missed my baby and all the things that could have been. Yet, it was just I, missing my little bean. And I still miss my baby. Maybe not everyday but I think of my little bean a lot and try to imagine what it would look like now. I keep these thoughts hidden from most people and they feel like a guilty pleasure that no one should know about. In these instances, the thoughts about being entitled to my pain and grief creep up on me again.

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Pregnancy LossJulia Nusbaumfeminist, pregnancy loss, storyComment