Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • I am ambitious.
    I always have been.

    I compete with myself, with my brothers, my husband, with friends and with the long dead greats and the unknowns of all time.
    I set goals for myself and create projects.

    When Rilke threw down the challenge “You must change your life!” I thought he was talking to me.
    When Rimbaud talked of going off to the far regions and returning as a “Stronger and darker race,” we packed up and headed out to the far regions.
    I have yet to return.

    I get inspired by what other people do.
    I want to get to know other people and have them know me.
    I would like to stand on the stage of life and deliver my soliloquy without fear or interruption.

    I will look you in the eye and shake your hand firmly and say this out loud.
    It is not a case of ”Eat my dust!” but an invitation to run with me.

    I played ice hockey as a young girl.
    Skated fast and went for the puck, not afraid of the confrontation.
    But I had the most assists and played the wing, helped the center, supported the team.
    I got hit in the mouth and bloodied and the coach called us Amazons.

    I have worked for more than 25 years as a woman in a feild dominated by men.

    A couple of years ago I started to attend a sculpture group and was at first excited to meet other artists and then dismayed at the dynamics of the group.
    I came home from one meeting and cried for a very long time.
    I had been told not to do what I was doing.

    In High school I was the head of the creative writing team.
    I was tough and demanding of the group and myself but we wrote a lot and read even more.
    We read authors who inspired us and took it as a challenge to work harder.

    Am I guilty of too much love?
    Perhaps, but I know what it feels like to be discouraged.
    To love another person’s writing is to say, “Keep going!”

    Am I too desirous of praise?
    I am one of the most insecure people you could meet, and that is not bragging.
    I am needy and sometimes feel profoundly alone.

    I would hope that what I write and have to say is compensation for my true nature and character.
    I am a monster who desires to become human.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.