Carrie Saum

I didn't have even an ounce of energy to spare to process my own feelings. Everything I had went to my son.

I understood in no uncertain terms because of purity culture that having sex outside of marriage was the worst thing I could do as a young woman.

We are tired and hurting and don't know what else to do.

I spent most of my life, as many women do, second guessing my gut feelings. I cannot tell you how many opportunities slipped through my fingers, how many bridges were burned, and how much money I have lost or wasted because I skipped the gut feeling. But gut feelings matter just as much as reason and science. Gut feelings are part of the equation, not a separate entity to be discredited entirely just because some people don't understand.

I have a quote on the home screen of my phone that I put up a year ago.

This is a recipe for pastry. It's ugly. It will make your kitchen hot in a summer's day. Hotter than the surface of West Texas. Hotter than Jesse Williams scorching the BET Awards with universal truth that we all need to heed and hear. It won't win an award or any baking competitions. But it will win your mouth's undying gratitude.

We are in the midst of buying a house.

Oh, you say you’re making this for your neighbor who just had a baby and a traumatic birth experience and you want to be an Exceptional Neighbor and bring her post-partum love and healing in a warm, bubbling cake dish? Fantastic. Just make sure to eat half of the cobbler straight out of the pan first, and then transfer it to another pan and pretend it’s meant to look like a pan of berry mush.

The first time I ate a mushroom at Gram's summertime table (with me sporting a full coverage one piece and neon shorts, and her in a ruffled pink bikini), it was raw. All I tasted was dirt. I swore off them forever. So, she made them for dinner.

Every year, I recreate my favorite street vendor’s glüwine (pronounced glue-vine), and remember that crazy freedom. I’m instantly transported back to those snowy cobblestone streets, freezing hands and feet, warm belly, and everything tinged with magic even while being naively idiotic.