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Stephens Life / Spring 2023 / Issue No. 22

Table of Contents

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Women Wronged by the history books 5 Broken & Superglued 11 Time Goes by 17 Emotional Mirror 21 Lions, Tigers and Bears 27 Affirmation 33 The breakup Guide 35 The Inner Child 43 Are you Listening? 47 I will Decay 49 Heavy Heart of Gold 55

Letter from the Editor

A Chapter of my life is coming to an end. I have spent the past three years learning who I am and growing into the person I want to be. I took a leap of faith coming to Stephens after finishing my first year of college elsewhere. I am not a person who makes significant changes like switching colleges, but I am so glad I did. When I visited Stephens right before the pandemic, I received an issue of the magazine and knew I was right where I needed to be. I remember telling my mom that I would be a part of creating this fantastic magazine. Here I am, five semesters later, Editor-in-Chief of the magazine that inspired me to come to Stephens. My life has changed drastically since the start of my time at Stephens. Over time, I have lost people and relationships that I thought would last forever. I have gained new friends and learned life lessons along the way. I have found myself enjoying the little things in life and accepting that not everything will go as planned, which is okay. This issue focuses on overcoming trauma, such as losing a loved one, and how to handle grief. We show personal journeys through the stories of Anne Boleyn, Vivienne Westwood and the folklore tale of King Midas. In this issue, you will learn the importance of self-healing by reflecting before reacting and the importance of self-love. Additionally, you will see the beauty of death and how death is the new way to live. A new chapter is awaiting me after graduation. What exactly is waiting for me? I do not yet know, but I am ready to embrace the unknown. To accept that sometimes you need to appreciate all that life offers and embrace the fantastic opportunities that come your way. I am thankful for the opportunities and relationships that Stephens Life has given me during the five semesters on staff. I will forever cherish these beautiful memories and can’t wait to see what’s to come after I leave. And now, I hang up my hat and sign off with this final message: enjoy, converse and stay curious.

Madison Moore

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

Madison Moore

SL STEPHENS LIFE

1200 E Broadway Columbia, MO 65215 Stephens Life is the award-winning student-run magazine of Stephens College.

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EDITORS

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Creative Directors Savana “SJ” Johnson Morgan McCall

Editor-in-Chief Madison Moore

Social Media Director Arika Smith

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Copy Editor Elyse Clayton

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Staff

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Mollie Davidson Jordan Davis Mia “Mage” Dozier Naya Goodman Lydia Graves Alex Jockisch Maggie Lowery Kya Nilges

Hope Daugherty Abbey Heller Layla Husson Sydney Marquardt Michele McCall

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CONTRIBUTORS

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ADMINISTRATION

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Staff Advisor: Dr. Bethanie Irons

SPECIAL THANKS

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Opinions expressed are not necessarily the views of the college, students, administration, faculty or staff. Stephens Life strives for accuracy. To report a correction or clarification, please send an email to birons@stephens.edu.

President Dianne Lynch Michael Burke, Stephens Conservatory Martha Clarke, Stephens Conservatory Maude Vintage

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Women Wronged by the History Books Story by Maggie Lowery Photography by Naya Goodman

he rise of modernized historical retellings of stories such as “Hamilton” and “Six” brings more curiosity about the real people behind the characters. Audiences wonder if these romantic retellings counteract the information they’ve learned previously. History class taught that the late Queen Anne Boleyn, second wife to King Henry VIII, was his mistress whom he fell in love with, only to have multiple affairs during their marriage. In actuality, that’s only half the truth. Or the connotation that Marie Antoinette, the last Queen of France before the French Revolution, was vain, self-centered and did not care about the people or the country she ruled. Again with the somewhat half-truths here. Unlike their male counterparts, these two women have had their truths twisted and distorted.

The Other Boleyn Girl Anne’s Early Life in France

Her family was a part of the French court for a large chunk of Anne’s life because her older sister was a mistress for the King of France. Anne kept to herself and her books, distancing herself from being a mistress and partying in the court. She tried to get married and was more invested in reading about politics than being seen as an object of sexual desire. Anne’s first encounter with King Henry was during a festival held by France as a playful competition between France and England for bragging rights. She saw Henry prepping for a wrestling match with the King of France in a tent tucked away from the rest of the festivities. After the wrestling match, Anne and Henry shared a brief interaction where Anne lightheartedly ridiculed Henry for his performance in the game. This caused a lasting impression of Anne on Henry that wouldn’t resurface for some time. Moving Back to England After a few years, the Boleyn family decided to move to the English court under King Henry VIII and his wife Katherine of Aragon, with Anne’s sister serving as one of Katherine’s ladies-in-waiting. It didn’t take long for the King to recognize Anne from their encounter back in France and almost immediately took a liking to her. Henry started to send Anne jewelry, ornate necklaces and delicate brooches, which other court members began to take note of, raising suspicions. One day, one of the other court members takes a piece

of jewelry from Anne to taunt the king, which works, and the king storms off with Anne following shortly behind him. Anne finds Henry in a dark, secluded room of the castle where he declares his desire for Anne and urges for her “purity.” Anne gets outraged at this request and leaves the room and court altogether. Letters From the King Anne returns home to her family after she leaves the court along with her sister, who is pregnant with King Henry’s illegitimate child and kicked off the court for it. Since Anne departed from the court, Henry has written her letters almost daily, to which she only bothers to reply to occasionally. One day, Henry sends a whole boar head for Anne’s family to feast upon with a note that states Henry wants Anne to rejoin the court again as his mistress. Anne takes offense and writes back that she deserves to be Queen by his side or nothing at all. A few days later, Henry arrives at the Boleyn residence looking to speak with Anne. He tells her he wants her back at the castle to live with him again, posing as one of Katherine’s ladiesin-waiting. At the same time, he says he will figure out how to divorce Katherine and wed Anne. To this Anne agrees and returns to the court, moving into one of the old rooms of the priest that lives in the castle, who taunts her presence and questions her motives. One day, her brother visits her in the court, bringing her a gift of a banned book of high treason that depicts the king being his ruler and not having to listen to a higher power such as God. Anne panics and quickly wraps the book, asking her brother why he gave her a book the King could kill her for owning. He then tells her that it’s to help figure out her “Katherine problem.” Separation of Church, State and Love Anne, Kathrine and Henry live in an awkward dynamic together. One of the critical moments is a three-way game of cards where Henry and Anne essentially play footsie. At the same time, Katherine awkwardly sits there, eventually gets annoyed with their behavior and goes to bed for the night. The whole time Anne was at the castle, though, Katherine never suspected anything was happening regarding the two of them planning on getting rid of her. Katherine viewed it as one of Henry’s flirtations that would eventually pass like the rest. Anne finally gets fed up with this and demands that Henry take some action regarding getting rid of Katherine. Henry then attempts to annul his marriage to Katherine because she was married to his brother, SL | 6

so she cannot produce an heir. Henry tries to take this to the church to wed Anne swiftly. Unfortunately, the church does not agree that the marriage between Henry and Katherine is void and the two have to find another way to separate. Shortly after, the same priest questioning Anne’s presence in the castle saw the book Anne’s brother had given her. He brings the reader to Henry and summons Anne to be in the king’s presence. Anne pleads with Henry to listen to

some of the ideas that they speak of in the book, to which he leaves the room with the Priest and the book. In contrast, Anne is left alone to ponder what will happen to her and if she’ll live or die when Henry returns. Henry eventually returns without saying a word initially. He then tells the Priest to start packing his things and that he was dismissed. Henry then looks at Anne and says he wants to go through with the ideas in the book. Anne is ecstatic. They then realize that if they wanted to separate from the Catholic church fully – and change the very existence of England – they would need support from a fellow country. Back to France The pair decided they had the best chance of support from the King of France since Anne and her family had previously been a part of the court. They hear that the King is throwing a party, which will be their best chance to find him and ask for his support. Anne and Henry arrive in France at the party and ask the King for his help, to which he agrees. The party marks the beginning of the rumor mill of the origins of Anne and Henry’s relationship, where Anne is reduced to a whore and a vixen rather than the intelligent woman she is. With their new support from the King of France, the two decide to celebrate by giving in to their long-lasting carnal desires with a new hope that Anne did not get an early pregnancy from their early celebration. Queen Anne Before the pair returned to England, they eloped prematurely in France in secret because their marriage and positions would become null if they were found out. The two return to England, where Henry divorces Katherine and has a public wedding with Anne, officially making her the new Queen of England. Anne discovers she is pregnant with their first child shortly after their marriage. That excitement for a boy is dimmed after they discover that she had a girl who would later become Queen Elizabeth I. Anne is in love with her new baby girl, while Henry is upset that she isn’t a boy as Anne promised. Not even six weeks after giving birth, Henry and Anne had been making multiple attempts to conceive another child to

very little avail. If Anne did manage to get pregnant, it wasn’t long till she had a miscarriage. With multiple miscarriages and poor public opinion, the people of England started rumors about her saying things such as she was cursed and was unfit to be Queen. With all the miscarriages and the lack of a male heir, Henry started to spend less time with Anne and more time with his groups of mistresses, which infuriated Anne. She began to flirt with a few men innocuously but nothing beyond an innocent flirt. Henry finds out about these flirts, snaps at Anne and tries her for committing adultery, to which she is found guilty. Anne is sentenced to death by beheading and proclaims her innocence to the end of her life. Anne is declared dead on May 19, 1536, at the Tower of London, where she was wed to Henry three years prior.

The Austo-Franco Queen Broken Childhood

Maria Antonia Josepha Johanna was the youngest daughter out of 16 children of the Emperor and Empress of Austria. Marie was very aware that her marriage to Prince Louis XVI would not simply be a marriage between them but also between the two royal families and the entire country of France and Austria. There was a lot of pressure on young Marie to do well. At fourteen, Marie was sent to France alone with only the company of servants who would head back to the Austrian place after reaching the border. When Marie arrived at the Austrian-France border, she was required to strip herself of all Austrian court clothing and items to put on clothing instead a part of the French court to signify her loyalty to her new court of France. Child Bride When Marie arrived at the palace, she was shown off to the rest of the French court before being whisked away to get prepared for her wedding to Prince Louis XVI. Louis and Marie had very little interaction with each other and barely knew the other before they were thrown into their large wedding ceremony. After the ceremony and the reception, Marie wanted to consummate their marriage and wedding agreement. Still, Louis had no sexual interest in Marie for the next seven years of their marriage. Because they had never consummated their marriage for this long, Marie did not feel confident in her position within the court. She

also did not handle certain things in her arrangement or marriage. Because of this continuous pressure to perform well and do her part in this marriage, Marie decided to have a little fun and stop stressing – at the expense of her reputation and the royal treasure. Marie began going on lavish shopping trips, gambling and attending parties. The other princesses and duchesses in the French court started to get pregnant, having their heirs. This only worsened her insecurity and greatly jeopardized her position within the French court if she and Louis could not consummate their marriage. Beauty Queen About four years into their marriage, Prince Louis XVI’s father, King Louis XV, passed away, thus making SL | 8

Prince Louis XVI and Princess Marie Antoinette the new King and Queen of France at 18 and 19. When the pair was informed of this news, the servants kneeled and bowed before them. At the same time, the couple embraced each other tight and slowly sunk to the floor, praying to God for guidance. Three years later, seven years into their marriage, their marriage was finally consummated, along with the agreements of their arrangement for Marie to conceive an heir. Marie had finally become pregnant, there was a stress lifted off of her shoulders and words about her died down in the court. Even though Marie had a daughter instead of a son, meaning there was still no rightful heir, she loved her daughter in the highest regard, unlike everyone else. Louis also gifted her with her private villa for the birth of their first child where Marie could escape from the palace’s rules and be alone. The Guillotine Falls With her new private villa, Marie gained a new sense of freedom and independence from not being under the strict rules of the palace all the time. Because of this, she was more at her villa than the palace. With being left alone most of the time, Marie takes up the same activities she did before becoming queen. While going out, Marie found a lover from a foreign court. She could quickly bring her lover to her villa with little to no concern of being caught, especially since it was

often her alone with her husband primarily residing at the palace. Between her lover and her husband, it wasn’t long before Marie got pregnant with her second child. This time the child was a boy, meaning that France finally had a proper heir to the throne, finally fulfilled their marriage agreement. Marie would now be entirely left to her own devices. Because of this, she, along with other members of the court whom she had become acquainted with, spent more of the kingdom’s money on gambling, shopping and parties while King Louis was away. Because of this, the country was starting to go broke to keep up with not only her habits but also the habits of the others in the court along with the large bill that the American War was tolling on them – not to mention the previous debt that was left to them after Louis’s father passed away.

What made matters worse was that America was currently at war with England. The country of France lent them help in the form of soldiers, weapons and money, so the whole country was feeling a strain. The citizens were given a ration for more luxury food items such as flour. At the same time, in the palace, Marie and Louis are allowed to have as much cake and flour as they want. When this concern was brought up to the Queen, her alleged response was, “Let them eat cake,” and it only caused more outrage towards the royal family for not caring about the well-being of their citizens. This caused the start of the French Revolution. There was essentially a hunt down for all of the members of the royal court and the royal family, to which Marie and her family’s response was

trying to sneak out of the palace undetected. They successfully left the place but were caught riding away in their carriage. King Louis XVI was beheaded in May of 1793, while Marie wasn’t executed until October of that year. The last thing she said was an apology to the executioner for stepping on his foot. There are varying accounts of these womens’ stories and lives, and we’ll never know the story through their point of view. One thing that we can gather from these different interpretations is that these women were made out to be villains in someone else’s story against a man. In actuality, these women were young, naive and manipulated. They didn’t know the right thing to do and acted based on instinct because that’s all they knew and no one told them otherwise. SL SL | 10

Story by Elyse Clayton Photography by Naya Goodman Illustrations by Mia “Mage” Dozier

Broken Superglued 10-9-2022

oday I broke a pot. A brand new, adorable little pot I just got from Helmi’s Gardens for my baby Raven ZZ. I was carrying too much, forgot that it was breakable and dropped it down the stairs.

It was wrapped tightly in plastic, so the glass didn’t go everywhere. I picked it up, went into my room and just started bawling. This is me. I started carrying too much, forgot that I am breakable and dropped myself down the stairs. I rifled through my drawer for superglue, desperate to fix my mistake. I frantically pieced it back together (and glued my fingers in the process). The anxious energy paid off, and the pot now houses my ZZ as intended, but you can see the cracks and the glue. You can see the tiny missing pieces that weren’t worth trying to fit back in. You can see every imperfection that gives it “character.” This is me. I’m messy and missing pieces. I have imperfections that give me “character.” But what if there’s something better? What if I could turn my brokenness into beauty? If I could put myself back together without hiding the imperfections but embracing them? What if I could be held together with gold? *** Kintsugi, a traditional Japanese art, embraces the idea that damage and repair are a natural part of an item’s history instead of something to hide. In this practice,

broken pottery is repaired with a lacquer dusted with gold or another metal.

“Mended ceramics foremost convey a sense of the passage of time,” Christy Bartlett, Founding Director of the Urasenke Foundation in San Francisco, writes in her essay “A Tearoom View of Mended Ceramics.” She continues, “The vicissitudes of existence over time, to which all humans are susceptible, could not be clearer than in the breaks, the knocks, and the shattering to which ceramic ware too is subject. This poignancy or aesthetic of existence has been known in Japan as mono no aware, a compassionate sensitivity, an empathetic compassion for, or perhaps identification with, beings outside oneself. It may be perceived in the slow inexorable work of time (sabi) or in a moment of sharp demarcation between pristine or whole and shattered. In the latter case, the notion of rupture returns but with regard to immaterial qualities, the passage of time with relation to states of being. A mirage of ‘before’ suffuses the beauty of mended objects.” As Bartlett explores, the art ties in a copious amount of Japanese philosophies that seem outlandish to our “in with the new” Western culture. But embracing the symbolism of kintsugi – and in that illuminating my own damage instead of hiding it – has helped my journey to rediscover my identity. I realized that day in October that I kept putting myself back together with superglue. I kept trying to rely on my strength and my resources. And I kept SL | 12

breaking again and again. Sometimes just one piece would fall out, or maybe a piece would be put back in wrong, but other times everything would just come crashing down.

seem like you’re moving backward. But at the end of it all, you’ll be stronger and more beautiful and more powerful because of the gold that Jesus uses to fill the cracks.

I cannot hold myself together because I am the broken pottery and that is not in my power. It takes an outside force, a creator, a potter. All this time I should have leaned on God to put me back together with gold. The Old Testament prophets knew this long ago: “But now, O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand” (Isaiah 64:8). They also recognized the brokenness in themselves and in us now, saying we have built “broken cisterns that cannot hold water” (Jeremiah 2:13). God, in his great love letter to us, says, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). Kintsugi doesn’t try to cover up imperfections, it doesn’t try to overcome them or correct them; it makes them part of a perfect whole. God the artist, the potter, the creator, doesn’t want to cover up our imperfections. He wants to let his goodness make us part of a perfect whole. Sometimes life breaks us. Sometimes we just get worn down by the gradual passing of time. Sometimes the people around us shatter our hearts, one way or another. Sometimes we do it to ourselves. But something that took me forever to wrap my head around is that sometimes God breaks us, too. It just seems so out of character that such a loving, gracious God would intentionally break us. But then I realized that it is out of love and out of grace that he would do just that. You break, for whatever reason. And so you piece yourself back together. And then you break again. So you put yourself back together. And then you break again. And the cycle just keeps repeating. Until Jesus comes into the picture. He stops the cycle. He sees where you are at and meets you there. If you’re broken, he starts to pick up the pieces. If you’re superglued and look like you’re holding everything together, he sees how fragile you truly are, so he may have to break you again so that he may mend you like only he can. It may hurt. It may

For Makayla, she found those cracks in her family. She described it as a very argumentative environment: “You bring something up and one person will be like, ‘Let me tell you all the reasons why you’re wrong and I’m 110 percent correct and there’s no other way that you can be right.’” But other members of the family, like herself, are much more passive and have just ended up talking significantly less. But as she’s grown in her campus ministry, that community has shown her aspects of how to communicate and resolve conflict within a family. “It kind of brought me into a space of, oh this is what a relationship with Jesus looks like, and this is how Jesus would love other people, so this is how I love my family,” she said. “It has eased a lot of tension that I’ve had between me and my parents and I’ve gotten to see

God use me in those spaces to bring his love to them. But also kind of healed that parent-to-child relationship.” God has also brought Makayla a lot of excitement with the direction of her life lately as she steps into ministry work. The response from her family compared to her ministry community has also taught her a lot. As she explained, “Something I have experienced more recently is I have a lot of joy about the things that are coming up, from the things that God is putting in my life, and I’m not getting a lot of feedback from my family. I’ll be like, look at this cool thing that’s coming up, like this job opportunity or possibly getting to like move out or do these other things, and my parents are just like, okay. You should have already done that, you should have done that when you turned 18. Versus when I go to my ministry, I submitted my application to do that and literally everyone was screaming and freaking out and so excited about it. I genuinely felt loved at that point and had an understanding of like, oh, this is what it’s like to be celebrated and excited, even though it’s not a beneficial thing for them, they’re excited with me and alongside me.” Overall, Makayla has been relearning how to love and be loved. “That’s a lot of what I’ve learned from the environment I grew up in to stepping into more of a space of people who are running after Jesus,” she said. “It’s a very different celebration and excitement and stuff like that. It’s really cool and I’m grateful that I have that space.” Abigail has also seen healing throughout her family, especially in her father’s life, and has started to find it in her own life. “Before I was even born, my parents’ relationship was broken,” she shared. “So when I was born, we were a broken family.” Abigail’s mother was planning on leaving her father, but they ended up getting married when she learned she was pregnant. The two divorced when Abigail was in first or second grade, starting a long chain of custody battles and other fights. When staying with their father, Abigail and her younger brothers often found themselves neglected, leading to injuries and missed medications. At the age of eight, Abigail got a cell phone to keep in contact with her mother while out of the house. She was told that she was in charge of her brothers “because nobody else was going to do it.” She explained, “Ever since then, I took care of my brothers

and was like another adult because I was mature enough apparently that I could know everything that was going on with my parents and I needed to have an opinion and basically just be in the middle because I was mature enough to know everything.” When taken back to court for negligent supervision, Abigail’s father was ordered to go to counseling, and he did that through a church. As he started to grow his relationship with God, he stopped drinking and smoking, he stopped having as much of a temper, and he started telling his children about the Bible. “He started to have a glow because it was the Spirit inside of him,” Abigail explained. “It just kind of spread. Me and my brothers really wanted to feel what my dad felt and know God like he did and have a relationship with him like he did.” In high school, she put God aside for a while, though she still fully believed in him and loved him. But coming to college, she said, “I wanted God to be my whole life.” As she centered herself on God, he started to pick up the broken pieces. He took her out of the middle of her parents. He has helped her connect with her emotions again. He has helped her face other traumas from her past. Looking at how far she has come, Abigail shared, “It definitely is hard to heal, but every part that he has healed and continues to heal just shows me how much more he loves me.” Looking forward with hopefulness, she added, “I have a lot of brokenness, and God's healing it, but he's not done with it.” Like Abigail, Ben’s brokenness started before his birth. He was adopted at six weeks old, but his birth mother was a sex worker and he doesn’t know who his birth father is. He was born prematurely and was very sick,

and the doctors had a list of other things that they thought would be wrong with him later in life. “My parents, at that point when I was adopted, had three kids,” Ben explained. “They asked God for another boy, and they said they would know he’s our son by these things: that I would be a boy, that I would be straight adoption, so no foster care, just straight adoption, that I would be a newborn, and then our birthdays. So the oldest at that point was April 20, next was August 21, next was July 22 and then I’m June 23. So it’s all in a row. And they said by those things we’ll know it’s our son.” The case worker called to say that there was a newborn boy, straight adoption, born July 23. At first Ben’s dad said no because he didn’t want birthdays back to back, but they went to see Ben in the hospital anyway, where they found out that his birthday was actually in June, not July. “And then they knew that God had fulfilled all the things they asked of him,” Ben said. “After that they knew I was theirs and they started the adoption process.” But something Ben has always dealt with is not feeling worthy enough. He was his birth mother’s eighth child at the age of 26, and two of his siblings had already died. The odds of Ben living were very low, and if he did live the odds of having a good life were also very low. “So my big question is always why me, not one of my other siblings, specifically,” he said. “I don’t think I’m anything that special to be able to get what I’ve gotten and how God has blessed me, so I’ve just always struggled.” “But now I see God chose me specifically because I have a specific thing that none of my other siblings have,” he continued. “Don’t really know what that is yet, don’t know if I will ever know, but God specifically chose me because he wanted me to have these gifts, and I shouldn’t waste them, the gifts that he’s given me, and I should be using them for him.”

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One piece of Scripture that has brought Ben peace has been Isaiah 55:8-13: “‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,’ declares the Lord. ‘As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands. Instead of the thornbush will grow the juniper, and instead of briers the myrtle will grow. This will be for the Lord’s renown, for an everlasting sign, that will endure forever.’” It reminds him that God is higher and will always provide. “My big thing was recognizing that it wasn’t my choice, it wasn’t the fact that I’m actually a good person, it’s not the fact that I think I’m funny or anything like that, it specifically was God that chose it and that made me feel a lot more at peace with it,” he explained, “because he knows a lot more than I do and that just makes me so much more at ease just to be able to sit down and recognize that God who knows all things in the universe specifically chose me for this position in life.

I am the broken pottery

It just made me feel at peace because I don’t have to worry about all these things, like am I good enough or this and that, because he knows that I am and he put me in that position because he knows that I am.” Not only did God heal physically, as Ben has none of the issues the doctors predicted, but he has been healing spiritually and emotionally as Ben is rediscovering his identity in Christ. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter why you’re broken, how long you’ve been broken, how many times you’ve been broken or even how much of you is broken. It matters that you move forward out of that brokenness and into a kind of beauty that doesn’t hide the cracks but highlights them. A simple repair for broken pottery generally takes a month, and more complicated ones can take two. For pottery, that’s not fast. And how much more complicated are we? How much more intricate is the human spirit? So as you’re letting yourself be mended, be patient. You have time. I’m not whole. None of the other people in this story are, either. And you probably aren’t, whether you know it or not. But we can take it one step – one shard – at a time, and we don’t have to do it alone. There is beauty in our brokenness as gold seeps into every little crack and chip of our being, turning a painful past into a powerful testimony of strength and love. SL

and that is not in my power. SL | 16

Time Goes By Story by Jordan Davis Illustrations by Kya Nilges

t seven years old, I feared the dark. To ease my fear, I kept the ceiling light on. This refined, confining belief fed an inflated electrical bill. My parents’ pockets starved. So they bought me a night light, flicking off the key lights when evening arrived. Yet, the dim amber glare did not shine bright enough to expose the obscure images, lurking in plain sight. I decided to find refuge in my brother’s room. He was seventeen, the age warranting him autonomy. He did most of the things I longed for, such as watching television at night. While he rested in his twin sized bed, his feet barely surpassing the footboard, I remained on the carpeted floor. Sometimes he found me, groaning for my departure. Sometimes he couldn’t care less or forgot to check my presence at the end of his bed. One night in particular, he did. South Park was on the box TV, a show that felt illegal for my eyes to see. However, I could barely focus on Kenny McCormick’s reoccuring death scene. I only heard the sound of my brother’s muffled cries and the repeated phrase, “I wish I was dead.” At seven years old, I did not understand the concept of suicidal ideation. But my dormant body pressed close to the carpet—wishing to be submerged and vanish from this invasion of privacy. That was the first time I heard my brother cry. My father lived up to the idea that men should not cry. Therefore, my brother mimicked this macho man— a script of what he perceived as masculinity. He was on the basketball and wrestling teams and hid that he played the cello. The following morning, I confronted my brotherlooked into his red, swollen eyes

and begged, “You can’t leave me. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Ever since then, my brother acknowledged me as a “savior,” rescuing him from ending it all. That label consumed my identity until the summer of 2020. A worldwide pandemic kept (almost) everyone inside. While confined in my bedroom, exiled from the rest of the world, I had no one to save. Prior to quarantine, I avoided my pain through trying to save others, causing a cavity that hollowed out all satisfaction in my mind. I’d remain in the dark for too long, losing sight of myself. Rather than trying to piece together my shattered self, I wrote a letter to my friends and family saying goodbye. I was contemplating suicide. June 21, 2020 was the date I planned to depart—Father’s Day. Amid this unsettling time, my mother advised me to call my cousin, Jared. I kept putting it off. My desire to die would be diluted by the reminder that I was loved. But I never got the chance to call. The day before Father’s Day, Jared committed suicide. My mother delivered the news, not letting me flee from her tight embrace. She expected me to cry. Everyone expected me to cry. But I did not. My passivity towards Jared’s life shouldn’t warrant the mourning of his death. I felt as if I did not deserve to grieve. I no longer lived up the title of “savior,” a title that I had worked so hard to attain. Like my

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brother, Jared had memorized a script of what he perceived as masculine. He never displayed his feelings, because his dad created a false depiction of what a man should be. Maybe if I had called, I could have looked into his red, swollen eyes and repeated the words, “You can’t leave me. I don’t know what I would do without you,” and he might be alive today. Jared’s funeral was three days before my birthday. I didn’t deserve to grieve and I did not have the time. It seemed disingenuous to grieve over a loved one 72 hours before a time of celebration. So, I inwardly declared the act of crying inappropriate. My aunt asked me to sing at Jared’s funeral. On the day of Jared’s passing, I stumbled upon the song “Time Goes By,” a raw acoustic ballad written by Cory Asbury. Outside, in my uncle’s backyard, the funeral was held. Lawn chairs replaced church pews and familiar faces hid under disposable cloth. The funeral conductor called me to the stage. I began singing the lyrics.

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“And there’s a time, there’s a time for living Like a mother hearing baby’s first cry There’s a time, there’s a time for dying Like a family gathered ‘round by the bedside The time goes by We blink our eyes. The love we gave, the love we lost The time goes by And there’s a time, there’s a time for grieving Like you just can’t get warm on a cold winter’s night.” Barely finishing the first verse, I abandoned the inward oath to not cry. I let out a long, continuous cry—a cry that had been suppressed for some time. My mother rushed over and gave me a tissue, holding me in her arms. Once the tears stopped drowning my sight, I saw almost everyone letting out that long, continuous cry. My brother, who stood in the crowd, clapped his hands. His action caused each person to do the same. This sharp sound of striking palms unleashed my chain of guilt from grieving—not just over Jared’s death but of this unattainable image I’d tried to become. I had been doing exactly what Jared and my brother had done: I was trying to mimic the script of an image impossible to attain. Jared’s death brought to light that living up to this image was killing me. After everyone stopped clapping, I locked eyes with my brother, smiled and finished the song.

“But there’s a time, there’s a time for healing It’s like the golden hues of morning’s first light And the time goes by. We blink our eyes. The love we gave, the love we lost Time goes by The memories will carry on The time goes by Oh, yes it does But we will survive.” SL SL | 20

EMOTIONAL MIRROR Story by Kya Nilges Photography by Mollie Davidson

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reflection is the casting back of light or energy from a surface. When we look at our reflection, we see a mirrored version of ourselves. And when we first feel our emotions, it can be like looking in a mirror. We see a different version than others see. But by looking within ourselves we can see clearly. If we do spend time reflecting inward, we have a better grasp of situations of conflict. This time of reflection offers rationality and solace in a time of turbulence. Asking for what you need is not a bad thing. Knowing yourself and what you need for your mental health is never something you should feel sorry for. When someone says something mean or hurtful, it’s easy to be mean back. It’s on us to stop ourselves from lashing out and to take a moment. Pause and take a step back. Do you really want to say something hurtful and possibly make things worse? Instead of saying the

“It is imperative to consider if the person you’re talking to meant to hurt you.” -Kya Nilges

first thing that comes to mind, ask for time to process. Sit with what they’ve said to you. Evaluate why they said it and why you are feeling attacked by their words. It is imperative to consider if the person you’re talking to meant to hurt you. Sometimes people express their honest opinions and it hurts, but sometimes it needed to be said for their own peace of mind. Other times, people say mean things because they want to hurt our feelings. You need to consider the conversation’s context and your relationship with this person. Dr. Crina Mansat, a professor of psychology at Stephens College, expressed the importance of reflection and setting boundaries. “One of the most important things clinicians and counselors will tell you is timing. Understand that sometimes when you get a reaction from somebody it’s better to not react instantly. You need to remove yourself from the situation. That goes based on past experiences, awareness of yourself and knowing what you need. This [reflection] would be something that people would recommend if you’re someone that reacts emotionally.” Controlling the impulsivity you may feel is based on a lot of things. According to Mansat, there’s a neurological aspect. Consider how developed a person’s frontal lobe is and how well it’s functioning and keeping in check your emotion center, the amygdala. Some people are much better at controlling and regulating behavior than others. That can also go into personality traits and disorders, which can explain why someone may visibly react more than their peers. Is it better to wait to respond? To be honest, it’s not so clear-cut. Mansat suggests that, depending on

the situation, sometimes it is good to respond in the moment. There are certain situations in which you should have that immediate reaction, for example, if your response would lose its meaning with the passage of time. Other times, it is better to go back and think through the entire situation and try to see the other person’s perspective. People are prone to react based on their own mental shortcuts and stereotypes. As good as those may be in certain circumstances for efficiency, accuracy may be lacking and your message may be lost. Not everyone is good at articulating what they mean. There is no recipe or best way to do it though. Everyone is different and it depends on the situation and so many other things. As many of us know, bottling up our emotions is not good for our mental health. Letting your feelings be known in the moment might be better for your mental health at that given time. However, it may be worse in the long run. Taking that time to reflect is more sustainable for your relationship than blurting something out you may regret, even if it feels rewarding at the moment. But if you take that time to reflect and never come back to that conversation to respond, that can be the most devastating. It is important to return to the conversation and talk about your feelings. You don’t want your thoughts to be unspoken forever. It weighs down on a person and can create resentment. If you know it will be revisited, take that time. Mansat’s sentiment is that “It might be worth it to save the moment and have the benefits later.” Having personal space is important for your health. Being happy and fine on your own and not depending on others is crucial for a relationship. Keep in mind, it’s a two-way street to respect boundaries. Boundaries are sometimes set verbally, sometimes it can be a facial expression and other times it is behaviors we

“It might be worth it to save the moment and have the benefits later.” -Dr. Crina Mansat

are not aware of that signal our discomfort to others. It’s all rooted in communication. As Mansat said, “Communication is the key to every good relationship.” So whatever that looks like for you, as long as both parties understand it, do it. If people can’t respect those boundaries, a relationship cannot be sustained. There is a decision-making factor there. In Mansat’s opinion, the easiest way to set boundaries is to take a straightforward approach. When a situation arises, voice what your comfort level is and what you need. If someone is crossing a boundary, take a step back to reflect on why. Did they have malicious intent when crossing that line or were they unaware they were doing it? Mansat also mentioned that it may be good to reflect because we can only take on so much at one time. So if you’re wondering why you have a difficult time focusing and thinking of how to respond at the moment, it’s because you only have so many resources within SL | 24

“It’s clear that it’s beneficial to take time to reflect.” -Dr. Crina Mansat your mind. If all of those resources go into emotional thinking, there’s not anything left for you to give to logic or reasoning. You can’t think through the conflict well enough to articulate a meaningful response. Mansat’s final sentiment is that “In these situations, it’s clear that it’s beneficial to take time to reflect.” Deal with the emotions first, then take those resources you have to solve the problem. So, why don’t people spend time reflecting? Why is this a new concept for some people? In the 2017 article “Why You Should Make Time for Self-Reflection (Even If You Hate Doing It),” Jennifer Porter discusses some of the reasons people are resistant to this idea. Some people were never taught that they can take time to sit with their emotions without any expectations placed on them. They haven’t set boundaries in their relationships, so they don’t understand what’s okay to do. Others may be resistant to the idea because they don’t understand it or they don’t like the idea. Many people may not like this idea because our society is so fast-paced, and they see slowing down as a failure. Either way, if people are resistant to reflection, we need to understand why. Ask yourself what it is that you are avoiding, how you might be contributing to the problem and what you can do so that everyone succeeds. A lot of the time, people spend a lot of energy thinking about only themselves or only the other person involved. It’s important to consider all parties, not place blame and work towards a mutual solution. Asking for what you need is one of the first steps in setting boundaries in your life. This includes taking time in conversations with partners, friends and family. It can often be hard to set these boundaries but giving yourself time to reflect is so important for your mental

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health. I have experienced the consequences of both taking time to reflect and acting quickly on a dilemma without a moment of reflection. When I’ve taken that time and space to process everything, I can respond rationally and speak openly about my feelings. When I respond immediately, it’s fight or flight. I feel like I’m caught in a situation where I can either run away or respond in a state of heightened emotions. I end up feeling defeated and like I didn’t voice all of my concerns. I get so emotional and defensive. This steers the conversation away from the root of the problem. I, personally, cannot confront a problem head-on without time spent reflecting. We are constantly rushing through things trying to have no wasted time in our lives, but time spent reflecting and focusing on what you need is not a waste of time. And while it’s important to reflect inward, it’s also important to hold a mirror up for others to see themselves. While you take time to consider your feelings, encourage others to do the same. If you only focus on evolving yourself, you may grow out of your relationships. While this is completely normal, it can sometimes be avoided. We can grow and evolve with people. By reflecting on your feelings, your relationships will evolve to be happier and healthier. You have to set boundaries with people and be responsive to their boundaries as well. We must remember to look within and get to the root of our responses. It betters our mental health if we take time for rationality. If you look in the mirror, you can see your true self. SL

“It’s important to consider all parties, not place blame and work towards a mutual solution.” -Kya Nilges SL | 26

Story by Lydia Graves Photography by Morgan McCall

adies and Gentleman! People from all around! Step right up. Come on closer. Behind these curtains, witness something unlike any other. You won’t believe your eyes. You won’t recognize the wonderment that’s unmasked behind the flicker of the lights. Sit back. Get comfortable. It’s going to be a jolt-filled journey. Oddity. Strangeness. Bewilderment. Vivienne Westwood. Welcome to the greatest show on Earth.

“Once I [found Westwood’s designs and] started digging, it was like something clicked, and I was inspired to start experimenting with my style. The way she could make such romantic designs look edgy just really impacted me. She helped me realize that there’s beauty in the unconventional.”

April 8, 1941, Vivienne Isabel Swire was born. Swire had a very modest, simple upbringing. Her career outlook even suggested her becoming a teacher as she enrolled in a training program to become such in her early adulthood. She’s talked about how looking back, she did not grasp the arts. Living amongst the Industrial Revolution, books, theaters or galleries were not held at any importance leading her to never be immersed in the culture.

As her designs expanded and her fascination grew into the early 1970s, McLaren opened a shop in London to showcase, astonish others and sell Westwood’s works. It became a home of oddities and the central space of the punk movement. It was a scene for the absurd. Westwood’s designs became renowned. McLaren received a position to manage the musical group Sex Pistols, leading Westwood to style and dress the band of misfits. She crafted their identity through her visions of creativity.

Swire seemed mundane during this early life. She settled down in her early 20s, marrying Derek Westwood and giving birth to a son they named Ben. She began teaching. The marriage ended three years later. Open the curtain to Malcolm McLaren, the man that opened Vivienne Westwood’s eyes entirely. McLaren was a student of the arts at the time. She was mesmerized by him. Through this love, it brought something so new and so different to Westwood. She went on to have her second son, named Joseph, with McLaren. She began crafting jewelry, and a pit of curiosities began for the young woman.

—Kat Marquart, Stephens College 2022

“I loved the historical influence she has in her work and how ‘edgy’ it is. There’s a sense of elegance in how she portrays it too. As someone who also appreciates a good punch in the face to gender norms, I also thoroughly appreciate how she didn’t fear the idea of androgyny. She broke a lot of the gender norms within fashion and didn’t let them hinder her. Plus, her influence on punk fashion is amazing. She practically created punk fashion.” —Naya Goodman, Stephens College 2025 SL | 28

Her styles never left the unconventional eye, even as the punk movement fell off the tightrope. Through her designs, she made political commentary, expressing activism of the era. T-shirts in her spring 2006 collection read “I Am Not A Terrorist, Please Don’t Arrest Me,” and models in her fall 2008 show carried signs demanding fair legal trials for Guantánamo Bay prisoners. She also explored frills, frayed garments and continued to find herself more than relevant with her experiments and unusual qualities. The ringmaster of fearlessness has received constant backlash and disapproval from her looks. She’s been frowned upon, laughed at and made to believe that she shouldn’t continue. She was made to believe that she was nothing more than a freak for the world to gawk at her pieces, amused. Instead, she shut those voices out—and left the hall of mirrors, if you will. She inspired generations of beautiful strangeness and breathtaking abnormalities.

“She’s part of the reason I got into fashion in the first place! As I researched and learned about more brands, they all just seemed very inaccessible and intangible—until Vivienne Westwood. She really made me fall in love with fashion.” —Kat Marquart, Stephens College 2022 By the early 80s, McLaren and Westwood split. Jumping ten years forward, Westwood married again. This time to Andreas Kronthaler, her assistant. The couple became design partners, residing a lovely life full of dreaming enormously in South London. On December 29, 2022, Vivienne SL | 31

Westwood died peacefully, surrounded by loved ones. She was a primary school teacher, a fashion designer, a businesswoman, an activist, a wife, a mother, a loved one, a conundrum to many, a role model to most. She will forever remain a trailblazer and an inspiration.

“I read somewhere that Vivienne Westwood is one of the last—if not the last, the largest—independent fashion houses. I hope that it stays that way. I think big brands lose that feeling of authenticity when they’re bought out. I wonder if, and how, the Vivienne Westwood brand will proceed. I especially admired Vivienne’s commitment to political activism, and it seems the brand is continuing that so far. Vivienne was, and is, so beloved, and I hope that her legacy can continue and be built upon with integrity.” —Kat Marquart, Stephens College 2022 Thank you for coming out this lovely night. We relished in seeing your astonished faces in the crowd. We tip our hats to you, the most crucial part of the whole production. Without you, the inspired soul, the magic wouldn’t live on.

Close the curtain. But, imagination and beautiful absurdity transcend any apparent end. SL

The Breakup Guide Story + Illustrations by Madison Moore

o one prepares you for this moment. A breakup. The end of a relationship. The end of us. It’s not taught in school or by your parents. Instead, you read about or see breakups in movies, yet most of these stories end with a happily ever after. No one tells you how painful it truly is. First, your heart aches in a way that could easily be confused with a heart attack. Next, your stomach knots and twists, making you feel like you just rode the world’s craziest roller coaster. Then the tears come before you can stop them. You try to stop them because you must be strong, but they inevitably fall. No one warns you how hard it is to deal with a breakup. No one tells you that finding yourself after a relationship is even harder.

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The Breakup Breakups occur for countless reasons, such as communication issues or infidelity. Sometimes there is no particular reason for the breakup because people constantly change; we go through life, and sometimes our feelings stop. However, when a breakup does happen, many feelings come with it. No matter who initiated the breakup, both people will feel a wide range of emotions like sadness, anger, confusion and even relief. Similarly, there is no right way of feeling during a breakup because each person feels and experiences their separation in a different light. According to the Jed Foundation for Mental Health, “Going through a breakup may make you question your self-worth.” You might even experience what is known as “breakup depression,” where you will feel extreme sadness. Your mind will start filling with negative thoughts about not being attractive anymore or not being worthy of the love you had. These thoughts can consume you and are hard to eliminate once they start. In those 20 minutes standing outside of his house, I experienced three of the five stages of grief. The Jed Foundation defines the stages of grief as follows: Denial: You may not want to believe that the breakup is happening, or you believe the issues you’re having aren’t severe enough to break up over. Bargaining: To control the outcome or avoid accepting the breakup, you may try to make promises to change yourself or believe you can “fix” the relationship. Anger: Depending on the situation, you may be angry at yourself or your ex or express anger more generally at the circumstances that led to your breakup. Depression: Once the reality starts to set in, you may feel a deep, lingering sadness. You may also feel hurt and alone, which may cause you to isolate yourself from your other relationships.

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Acceptance: Focus your attention on your own life and future. That doesn’t mean you need to be happy about the breakup, but it does mean allowing the anger or sadness to pass so you can experience a new beginning and move into the next chapter of your life. At first, I was in denial. I kept thinking my ex was playing some crazy joke on me because he loved to joke around. The emotionless expression stayed on his face as he explained it was over. Then the tears came, no matter how hard I tried to keep them at bay, streaming down my face as I shook my head. We were okay not even two days ago, and now we were over—next, the begging. I pleaded with him to work it out with me. To explain what was wrong so we could fix the problem. All I got in response was, “I am just not happy anymore…we were never meant to be.” Those words still echo in my head. Finally, the anger came when I took the ring I had worn every day for two and a half years off my finger and threw it to the ground (not my finest moment). I left his house that day shattered and extremely confused about what had happened to our relationship. Our plans formed over the fourand-a-half years we were together were gone. After that day, time went by slowly. I would wake up, cry, follow my family around like a lost puppy, cry some more, have restless nights dreaming of him, and repeat. Before long, I ended up on the breakup side of TikTok where I received advice on how to handle the end of a relationship. I became obsessed with Googling breakups and would search topics like, “Will he want me back? How do I get over a breakup?” An article by Healthline provides a helpful list of the do’s and don’ts after a breakup.

Take time apart When a breakup occurs, take time from texting or hanging out with your ex-partner, also defined as no contact. Licensed marriage and family therapist Katherine Parker suggests waiting between one and three months before getting back in touch with your ex. During this time, you should focus on yourself. Additionally, this includes respecting each

other’s needs. For example, if your ex does not want contact, you must respect that. Alternatively, only feel obligated to respond if you are ready to talk.

Take care of yourself Prioritize your self-care by creating a daily self-care routine. Start by doing something daily that brings you joy, nurtures you and helps you process your feelings. Some self-care activities include starting a new hobby, exercising or journaling. My self-care has changed drastically since my breakup. Now, I take the time to heal and focus on my body by doing my skincare daily and going to the gym three to four days a week. Also, journaling has become the best way to process and express my feelings. I have found myself glancing back over my past journal entries and reflecting.

Social media Take time away from social media after a breakup. Parker states, “Social media creates an environment for stalking and unhealthy fixation, along with opportunities for passive-aggressive bullying.” I constantly checked my Instagram, waiting to see if my ex had unfollowed me or viewed my stories. This obsession had become overwhelming because I would build these stories about him missing me and regretting the breakup. Experts recommend unfollowing your ex after a breakup. In my case, I was not ready to let go, and that was okay. So instead of unfollowing him, I muted him on all social media platforms, making sure I did not see his posts and he did not see mine. I will unmute him one day when his posts don’t cause pain. Another social media tip is not to post about the breakup to express your feelings or frustration and to keep that information private, no matter how much they hurt you. If your ex-partner turns to social media, be the bigger person and do not engage. Also, wait to change your relationship status, even if it seems logical. The best option is to hide that status while you take a break from social media. Changing your status immediately after will hurt your ex-partner’s feelings; trust me, it hurts like hell.

Ask for Help If you feel depressed, have thoughts of hurting yourself or keep trying to contact them, seek help from a licensed therapist. Parker writes, “Recovering from a breakup takes time — probably more than you’d like. But try to remember that things will get easier as time

goes on. In the meantime, be gentle with yourself and don’t hesitate to reach out if you need support.”

Losing Yourself When my relationship ended, I did not realize how much of myself I had given up over four years. In healthy relationships, that does not happen, but in most cases, we focus so much on our partner that we forget to keep relations with others. In a Psychology Today article, Darlene Lancer, licensed marriage and family therapist, says, “Even in good relationships, we may do this out of love, not fear. We compromise slowly and often imperceptibly, unaware that losing ourselves risks our greatest despair.” In my case, the only people I had were my immediate family, a best friend six hours away in Nebraska, and a mutual friend of my now ex. Research shows that being around our partner releases feel-good chemicals in the brain. These chemicals become a drug and cause us to depend on our partners for happiness, so it is natural in relationships to want to please and spend more time with our significant others. However, too much dependency can cause you to give up your life or feel desperate to maintain the relationship at any cost. Lancer says, “We may not have noticed this [codependency] until we got involved in a serious relationship. We give up our hobbies, outside interests, friends, and sometimes relationship(s) with our relative(s) to be with our partner.” We come into relationships with autonomy and self-respect, which can disappear over time if we do not set boundaries and communicate with our partners about our needs. I remember spending too much time with my ex, and I would pick him over everyone else. The boundaries

set at the start of our relationship vanished into thin air. I let my love for him consume my entire being, and suddenly my happiness depended on him. Now that I am no longer in this relationship, I can see how toxic of a mindset that was. I know I am not perfect, and neither is he. We both had our faults, and instead of healing those parts, we let them take control and ruin our relationship. During this process, someone close to me said we create our happiness. At first, I did not believe it, but over time those words have become my motto. There are days when all I can think about are the what-ifs. On those days, I continuously have to remind myself that my happiness is what I make of it. Launder writes, “Eventually, your happiness and self-esteem don’t depend on others. You gain the capacity for both autonomy and intimacy. You experience your power and self-love.” You start recovering your lost self when you understand that you create happiness. Your relationship with yourself will take time, so be patient.

Attachment Styles The behavior shown in a relationship is an attachment style that shapes and influences how your relationships function. For example, understanding your attachment style helps you understand your partner and what you need in a relationship. Attachment forms during infancy between a baby and caregiver and impacts attachment styles for future relationships. However, personality and experiences play a role in shaping your attachment style. A Helpguide article by Lawrence Robinson, Dr. Jeanne Segal and Dr. Jaelline Jaffe defines the four attachment styles: Secure: Empathetic and able to set appropriate boundaries, people with secure attachments tend to feel safe, stable and more satisfied in their close relationships. Anxious: People with an ambivalent attachment style (or anxious attachment) tend to be overly needy. Often anxious, uncertain and lacking self-esteem, they crave emotional intimacy but worry that others don’t want to be with them. Avoidant: Adults with an avoidant-dismissive style are the opposite of an anxious attachment. Instead of craving intimacy, they try to avoid emotional connection with others. They’d rather not rely on others or have others depend on them. SL | 39

Disorganized/disoriented: This stems from intense fear, often due to childhood trauma, neglect, or abuse. Adults with this insecure attachment style tend to feel they don’t deserve love or closeness in a relationship. People with anxious, avoidant and disorganized attachment styles can learn to understand specific behavior problems and work towards a more secure attachment style. The Helpguide article provides tips to help one become secure in relationships. First, you need to improve your nonverbal communication skills with other people. The article states, “You can learn to improve these skills by being present in the moment, learning to manage stress, and developing your emotional awareness.” Next, boost your emotional intelligence by understanding your emotions. Emotional intelligence includes expressing your feelings and needs to others and controlling those emotions when they become too much. Then, resolve any childhood trauma because it causes feelings of fear and helplessness as an adult. Finally, develop relationships with people who have a secure attachment style. Research suggests that 50 to 60 percent of people have this attachment style. Having a secure partner can help you overcome your insecurities and allow you to learn new behaviors.

The Healing Process Self-relationship, defined by Kate O’Brien, a licensed therapist who focuses on codependency and trauma, is “your feelings about yourself, the way you treat yourself, and the decisions you make for yourself.” Our self-relationship affects other parts of our life. For example, a negative self-relationship impacts your mental health by increasing anxiety and depression, while a positive self-relationship helps connect you with others and improves your mental health. In an article by PsychCentral, they provided tips for building a better relationship with yourself: •

• •

Validate all your feelings by learning to accept them, which will help you understand why you feel a certain way and be able to address a need that leads to these feelings. Saying no when you do not want to do things is okay. Let your needs take priority over other people’s needs. Make time for yourself and the things you enjoy by blocking out time in your week or day to “date” yourself. SL | 40

•

Learn to set boundaries with others. It can be challenging when you are not used to setting boundaries. Still, it shows others what you will accept from them and what others can expect from you. Remember that it’s not selfish to take care of yourself because working through your problems internally in healthy ways can help you from taking your problems out on others.

Healthy relationships require you to know your inner self. In his book “Single on Purpose,” author and therapist John Kim writes, “Instead of searching for someone to be with, you must explore you. Your patterns. Your definitions. How you love, and why. Your dreams. The dent you want to make in this world. You must explore your relationship with yourself. You must be with yourself first.” Learning your needs will allow you to take ownership of them and communicate with others. Kim writes, “Any relationship — including the one you have with yourself — is a process of discovery.” You will experience good and bad days with yourself. When those bad days happen, selfcompassion will be your best friend. It would help if you treated yourself the same way you want to be treated by others. Do not degrade or push aside your feelings because you think they are invalid. You will eventually accept that the relationship is over and the breakup is real. However, you will question whether you are fully healed from a past relationship because you do not want to hold onto those negative feelings moving forward. According to Taylor Counseling Group, several signs prove

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you have healed from a breakup: • • •

The emotional ups and downs feel less intense. You have insight into why the separation occurred and find yourself looking toward the future instead of the past. You look toward the future instead of the past and better understand yourself.

I know my healing will take time, and I have accepted that fact and even relished focusing on only myself. But, yes, the heartache is still there. Yes, there will be bad days where I only want to cry and think about the what-ifs. Breakups hurt, no matter who you were with or how long the relationship lasted. Breakups are traumatic and brutal, yet they are a part of life. Everyone will experience one in their lifetime, and when they do, it will hurt. Now, this article is not supposed to scare you away from relationships. Instead, it is a support system or a guide to help you process and heal because, one day, you will move on. The pain you feel will subside, leaving you only with memories and a better version of yourself.

To him: I held out hope that we would find each other again after we had to time to heal and grow. Instead, you had moved on not even two months after our breakup, and I felt myself fall apart all over again. I once held so much love for you and our future, and now it is a weight that keeps me from becoming a better version of myself. You showed me who you truely are and that has pushed me to move on with my life. For once, I will do something for me and not you. SL

The Inner Child Story by Jordan Davis Photography by Mollie Davidson Illustrations by Madison Moore

Neglect My father’s birthday lies in the season Because botanicals stagnate. Winter whispers break into congested airways. He celebrates through the weather of contradiction. March foundations covered with a wintry deprecation. My father questions The Father in heaven. “Why would a God of love cast caustic conditions?” He’s yearning for a steady temperate affection. My father leaves me in a home— Where food pantries fill with vacancy. My stomach lacks basic necessity.

Absent actions followed by lying lips, He proclaims, “I love you.” My hunger settles in.

March foundations covered with a wintry deprecation, My father questions The Father in heaven And I question him “Why would you proclaim to love me?” “You’ve left me with nothing to eat?” Then I take into account the harsh breeze, And the severe blizzard in spring. It’s not my father’s lack of loving— He’s predisposed with inherent unreliability.

Guilt Cobwebs occupying a place we try to pay no mind— A barren, cold basement in the mid of July. Underneath rocky foundation, The screams of guilt shouting. Reaching the highest of skyscrapers, Gripping our souls like a resentful embrace. Guilt breaks out of the darkness. Still, we can’t meet their eyes. And guilt knows I’m sorry. But not enough to apologize.

Trust I tried to mend the open gash— the cavity’s carved out filling. I was a vast vessel of faith Falling into narrow arms Attached with hands Holding sharpened blades. Now, I’m hollowed out. Each fall, I hoped— An empty promise wrapped around my bleeding veins. I was a vast vessel of faith I’m nothing but a calloused covering— A dried-up, rigid, sunken security.

Abandonment Dust and debris Discards from a quiet combat. You slamming doors, Too light to need any forcing close. I search through the ruins, The shards from conflicts of confusion. Yet, my unveiled flesh is too sensitive. Coming to contact with our caustic remains. So, I search for where I once stayed. Before, you became my refuge. Abandoning your empty existence, Absent of any expression. SL

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Ar e

t e s n i l i n u g o

I don’t want to talk about this. Everyone is so angry; they can’t hear me anyway. They’ve stereotyped me, and there’s no way I can change their minds. Why do I even bother? I’m sick of fighting. “Relatable working mom” Casandra Reid shares in an article for Medium a lesson she learned from her sevenyear-old son. Her two boys were having what appeared to be an argument, to which their father instructed them to stop fighting. But the older son corrected his father with: “We are not fighting. We are having a hard conversation.” “The perspective that we’re not fighting; we’re conversing was very enlightening and inspiring for me,” Reid reflects. “It became an educational moment in which I reflected and reassessed how often we as adults fight and argue instead of having an open dialog — conversation style.”

Story by Elyse Clayton Illustrations by Madison Moore There is no simple answer to that, either. But the Stephens College Ten Ideals encourage us to have “respect for our own dignity and the dignity of others, embodied in a sense of social justice; courage and persistence; independence, autonomy and self-sufficiency; support for others through the willingness to take and give criticism, acceptance and love; sensitivity to the uniqueness and fragility of the natural world of which we are part; responsibility for the consequences of our choices; belief in our changing selves and in our right to change; creativity in the spiritual and aesthetic dimensions of life; intelligence that is informed and cultivated, critical yet tolerant; and leadership which empowers others.”

1. Have the Hard Conversations

So let’s all step forward and lead conversations to empower others, leading from a sense of respect and social justice. Let’s take responsibility for our own beliefs and actions. Let’s stand up for ourselves with independence, but let us also remember that it’s OK to change our minds, because we have intelligence that is informed and cultivated, critical yet tolerant. Stand with courage and persistence, but remain sensitive and act from a place of acceptance and love.

It seems obvious – I can’t give you tips on how to have difficult conversations if you aren’t willing to actually have those conversations. But it can be hard to gauge when to confront someone and when to back away.

Though the topics of our “hard conversations” may grow and evolve as we do, the emotions behind them are the same for us as they are for these children, and we can all learn from their attitudes.

In that educational moment, she learned five lessons we can all apply to our lives and our own hard conversations:

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2. Be United “We are not fighting. We are having a hard conversation.”

do you feel about this? What experiences have you had that may influence your response? How might the other person be feeling?

That’s what the child said. Not a pointed “I am not fighting.”

Come to the table to problem-solve, not to prove that you are right and someone else is wrong.

“A conversation means we are dialoguing, even if it is hard,” Reid explains. “A fight indicates we are at war, and someone will likely go down.”

Remember, it’s OK to stand by your beliefs, and it’s OK to change them as you learn and grow.

The Thomas-Kilmann Conflict Mode Instrument outlines five common responses to conflict resolution: Competing: The person pursues personal concerns at the other’s expense. Accommodating: The person neglects personal concerns to satisfy the other. Avoiding: The person does not deal with the conflict. Collaborating: The people involved look at underlying needs and wants and work together to find a solution that satisfies both of them. Compromising: The people involved find a mutual agreement in a way that “splits the difference” and finds common ground. It falls in between competing, accommodating and collaborating. Too often, we find ourselves competing with an “us vs. them” mentality. We should approach all conversations, especially difficult ones, with a posture of sharing what we believe while also learning the reasoning behind what they believe. Come to the table with an open mind. Both of you are working together, collaborating to find a solution. I encourage everyone to find common ground. That doesn’t mean sacrificing your beliefs; it means finding where you agree and working from there. 3. Lead With Confidence “Our eldest did not consult with his brother to verify whether he thought they were having a fight or a complicated conversation,” Reid explains. “He responded with confidence and handled the situation based on his understanding of what was happening. While being mindful of others, learn to think for yourself and act on the power of your convictions.” If you’re going to speak up – and you should – know what you’re speaking up for. Make sure you are educated on both your side and the opposing viewpoint. Know the logical information – the facts and reasoning – but also pay attention to emotional information. How

4. Refrain From Making Assumptions “My husband considered the kids to be fighting. Our son referred to them as having a conversation,” Reid writes. “Their perspectives were different. Quite often, without knowing the intricacies of a situation, we make declarations and arrive at ill-suited conclusions.” It’s important to walk into a conversation aware of your own biases and preconceptions. Be careful not to jump to conclusions or make assumptions. Listen to other people and ask questions. And truly listen to learn and to converse; don’t just listen long enough to give your response. Give them the same respect and attention you want to receive. 5. Be Quick to Move On “That interaction between the boys lasted a couple of minutes and was done. Neither of them harped about any injustices or unfairness beyond that interaction. Nobody prolonged the conversation. They both said what they had to say, finished their convo with dad and kept things moving. A complex discussion was had. Box checked. Most notably, they were still brothers, friends and playmates.” The person you are talking to isn’t an enemy or an opponent. Most likely, you’re speaking to a classmate, a coworker, a relative, a friend. At the end of the conversation, you should still be friends. So Let’s Talk We in Stephens Life are ready to have some hard conversations. We may not be arguing over who’s turn it is to talk to dad on the phone, but we hope to enter into these conversations with the same empathy and confidence as our seven-year-old friend. Join us for our “When Can I Rise?” blog series as we dive into issues like exclusivity, political division, transgender rights, Title IX, and gun violence. We’re ready to talk. Are you listening? SL

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Media vita in morte sumus In the midst of life, we are in death

Story by Alex Jockisch Photography by Mia “Mage” Dozier

ou only die once.

I sit across from my high school best friend in our hometown’s Mexican restaurant. We’re devouring the chips and salsa, sitting in a worn pleather booth and catching up. It doesn’t take long for our conversation to move to the morbid. I tell her that it’s her job as my best friend and future mortician to make sure I don’t turn into a toxic stew. We go over my death options. I can’t be buried in the ground by myself, no casket, just raw in the Earth. She informed me “raw” is only available in our state if I’m murdered and never found. One could only hope to be so lucky. I don’t want to be cremated. As much consumption and toxicity as I put out into the world simply by existing in capitalism, I don’t want to turn into a burnt pile that contributes to carbon dioxide emissions. And of course, I do not want to be embalmed and buried. Embalming fluids, including the ever famous formaldehyde and glycerin, can leech their way out into the air and soil. A big no-go for me. And being buried in a casket, well, that equates to a morose maraca full of bones and human sludge. As much as I love soup, I don’t want to become soup. We move the conversation to the most recent autopsy she assisted in. Then, our mutual friend still in high school who lovingly calls us “Mom and Dad,” brings in the real horror with the topics of high school boys in 2023. It’s a ghastly sight.

You Die Alone For being 18 and 20, my friend and I think of death and dying often. Our similarities bring us together. Loving the morose and morbid, hating our small town and both being named Alexis, to name a few. As comfortable as we were talking about death, and as similar as our taste in shows, there was one thing we always disagreed on. Our looks. Calling each other pretty always led the other to quickly disagree. I never thought of myself as pretty. Once I got a boyfriend, maybe I was cute. But I definitely wasn’t hot. Once, a girl I had a crush on said we SL | 51

were the same brand of attractiveness, which broke my insecure brain. I spent years torturing my body. My image was a distorted funhouse mirror of What I Am and Who I Should Be. Accepting compliments was worse than accepting death, which I was welcoming at any corner.

Not only am I aware that I’m a helpless, fragmented mass of organic matter, I celebrate it. Vive la Decay! - Caitlin Doughty Right before running at an infamous crosscountry meet, a mind-numbing one-mile loop for 3.1 miles around a rural school and their track field, one of the team captains brought us in a circle. He was nicknamed “The Preacher,” as he’d always give a sermon before a race. He brought in other competing teams to give us his best sermon yet. It went along the lines of: “The world is burning. We’re all going to die one day. So let’s run three miles!” It was so motivational. We all turned to each other like, “Screw it. Let’s run around for 20 minutes.” This was one of my introductions to what I call Gen Z Nihilism.

The Meaning Of Life is that it ends. - Kafka Gen Z Nihilism (or optimistic Nihilism or Absurdism, the name is ever-changing) is all about acknowledging death and using that as motivation. It’s knowing that one day you will die, with all certainty. You may be old or young, healthy or sick. But it happens. One day, you’re gone. Then, your friends and family. They’ll be gone too. In two hundred years, you wouldn’t know a single person alive and they won’t know you.

My peers and I have heard a lot of “the world is ending and there’s nothing you can do about it” for our whole lives. Doomsday porn, as they call it, lurking in every corner saying that your grandparents already fucked everything up. Instead of wallowing in the shadows of Boomers’ bad luck, Gen Z adopted their own version of Nihilism. Sea levels are rising, species are going extinct, worms are boiled to make fabric sewn in sweatshops, your racist grandpa has a higher chance of being president than a millennial devoted to social services, the list goes on. We are highly aware of all of the bad things happening everywhere all at once. So we’ve strapped on our Doc Martens by the yellow strap and said, “What’s the worst that could happen? I die?” Because we’ve been faced with doom since birth. Optimistic Nihilism is just that. We’re all going to die. It’s inevitable. So why not take the chances to do something you want, something great? Modern-day Nihilism looks at the world in its entirety. You’re born, and then you die. What you do with the in between is up to you.

You Are Flesh Life and death have always been intrinsically connected. I get so caught up in life that thinking of death helps me slow down. Through Nihilism, I remember what I’ll end up as. If I don’t want to be cremated, I’ll probably become a Hot Pocket casket of flesh broth. Pretty to think about, no? It’s been months since my last relapse. I’m trying to take care of my body for the first time in forever. I still catch myself comparing myself to others. I’m not tall like Kendall, I’m not built like Bella, my stomach doesn’t look like Zendaya’s. Why do I care? Alexis and I sat and talked about her being a mortuary student and working in a funeral home. She describes how it changes you. “What am I doing being sad about some random test grade or some

random boy? You could go to sleep tonight and not wake up for any rhyme or reason. It puts it into perspective that you are alive, be grateful for it.” At the end of it all, won’t we all be in an urn or a casket or maybe pressured cremains that are molded into a sword? When someone dies, we think of them as a person, not as a body. I don’t think of the shape of their stomach, the weight of their flesh, the length and luster of their hair. I don’t miss their physical presentation package, I miss their brain. Mortician, author and lover of all things dead and dying, Caitlin Doughty gives an insight behind the scenes of the death industry:

“Bodies cremated in full, heads donated to science, babies, and some woman’s amputated leg all come out looking the same in the end. Sifting through an urn of cremated remains you cannot tell if a person had successes, failures, grandchildren, felonies. ‘For you are dust, and to dust you will return.’” I’ve taken a neutral approach to my body. My flesh vessel that carries my brain from room to room. Like a rental car that will be incinerated at return. An avatar in an indie video game. Not something that determines my morals, values or worth. Being a human is an experience, an exhausting rollercoaster ride. I don’t want to spend my time thinking about the shape of my arms as I hold onto the safety bars. I look to the rider to my left, Alexis. Alexis isn’t hopeful for death but knows it will be the end of her book and hopes there’s no sequel, no reprise. The ride will end and all will be done. Alexis leans over and tells me, “I hope this is all there is. When I’m done, I’m done.” Besides, eternal life sounds boring, derivative. There’s a reason the Cullens are so weird. Life is nothing without the consequence of decomposition, an ambiguous end date.

Death drives every creative and destructive impulse we have as human beings. - Caitlin Doughty I think of death as the twin to life. It’s messy, gross and complicated. You’ll never know how long or short it’ll be. People romanticize and fear it. And it’s inevitable. Uncontrollable. And beautiful. I will live and I will die. I can only shape my life and death through my actions, and even then, things just happen. I’ve looked at the lives of others that had twisted turns and surprise fortunes, sometimes they follow a pattern, sometimes not. Such is life. Instead of spending how many unnumbered years I have trying to push the same damn rock up the same damn hill, forcing myself into different molds and folding myself in different ways, I will just exist. At the end of the day, that’s what we all do. Exist. I am comfortable with my end. I will die and everything will be over. My curtains closed, only scavengers will see my bloated corpse in a green burial field or asbestos hovering over me before I go into the cremator. Even if there is anything after, there are people in this world who believe I won’t be a part of it. They’d rather I sooner see my eternity of nothingness than live. It’s dangerous, I fear, to let them win. I could die tomorrow, a hemorrhage or a hate crime, but I will live today, for all those who couldn’t. For the people who paved the road for me today, one day we’ll all be decaying together, in eternal numbing harmony. SL

ill d e c a y w I b efore that I will be.

Heavy Heart of Gold Story + Visuals by Savana “SJ” Johnson

his is a story heard many times before. A story laced with greed and blind desires. A story of clouded judgment and misleading wishes. A story about the sins that consume us as humans. A story about a heart of gold with the weight of lead. A story with a darker tinge than its predecessor and riddled with cruel tricks. This is the story of the Ruler Midas and the Golden Touch.

enough o f

the

Midas was a ruler beloved by the people of Desdemona and even more so by their own daughter, Dahlia. The beauty of life was not unkind to them, as the pair lived comfortably within a castle on the outskirts of the village. From the grand staircases and lavish decor to the vast rose gardens, very few could deny the prosperity that Midas shared with them. Midas always wore a thin smile on their lips but their eyes always seemed to be elsewhere. To tell the truth, the townspeople of Desdemona did love their Midas, but everything came at a cost. The cost was always gold. Ruler Midas could never have SL | 55

they gifted life, but no avail.

precious metal and believed that gold was the one thing that could truly bring them eternal happiness. Many tried to convince them that already lived a it was always to

Midas hoarded every bit of gold that entered their

sight and meticulously counted it by hand every single day. They even went as far as to bathe in their riches, just to feel the joy it could bring them. Gold was the one thing that was always on Midas’s brain, for better or for worse. Ruler Midas was no hermit, though. They often found themselves wandering their rose garden, wishing that they could grow the same flowers but in solid, shiny gold. They would often make small talk with those they ran into within the garden and tried to remember their subjects’ faces. This story begins with a face that Ruler Midas recognized with only greed in mind.

“I just can’t begin to thank you enough, Lovely Midas!” The satyr chimes giddily, looking over his shoulder at the ruler walking behind him. “I know I was early to his event, but I surely didn’t believe myself to sleep for that long! I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found me in your garden–which is oh so very lovely, might I add– but oh my gods that could have been very unfortunate for myself-” “-As much as I am truly grateful for being able to help you out in this situation, Silencus,” Midas chuckles, “I don’t believe myself to be worthy of all of this praise you shower me with. It truly is not something that I so deeply need.” Silencus turns his head on a swivel, eyes wide with the realization of his rambling. “Oh I do apologize for stumbling on, I just get nervous when I am late for one of his gatherings, but luckily, we should be there riiiight abouuuuttt-” Silencus reaches forward to the overgrowth of trees in the grove and gently pulls down on a single, outlying twig. In a flourishing set of movements, more branches quickly part away and reveal a looming entrance to a glorious party before the two. “Now.” Silencus bleats happily at the sight before him and beckons Midas in after him. Eyes wide with amazement, Midas quickly follows after the satyr, allowing themselves to be completely enraptured by the event blazing on around them. Satyrs, pixies, maenads and other unrecognizable creatures dance in such a feverous frenzy, one

would believe their feet to be ablaze. Music of all genres fought for domination in Midas’s ears and the heavy scent of wine masked any smells that would normally be found within a forest clearing such as this one. In the center of the mass of creatures, a towering, booming man cheers loudly as he spills a chaliceworth’s cup of wine down his chin. Those surrounding him cheer in response, raising their own glasses as well. His reddish skin almost glows beneath the blood-like liquid, trickling down his bare chest and he tucks his flowing brown hair behind his ear. As he turns, laughter still bellowing from his belly, he locks eyes with Midas. An icy jolt of electricity spikes through Midas’s spine and freezes them in place. The man’s eyes boring into Midas’s soul almost suck lifetimes from them that they didn’t know they had. A new fear, a new longing, a new emotion. Something new, unfamiliar, almost… ethereal was swimming through his eyes and into theirs. “Silencus!” He booms, a deep laugh flowing from his lips as the satyr sprints towards him, bleating happily as they hug. “I was beginning to wonder where you had run off to! Are my parties no longer good enough for you, you silly goat?” Silencus begins to protest but the man quickly shushes him and waves toward Midas. “No matter, please, enlighten me on this wondrous guest you have brought to me! Tell me, traveler, what is thy name?” Midas quickly recovers, blinking quickly to bring themself back to reality. “I am Midas, Ruler of Desdemona.” The man’s eyes light up with curiosity and the mention of Desdemona and he quickly stands and kneels before them, Silencus tucked under his arm like a stuffed animal. His gaze floods over Midas, a piercing look slicing through the unease bubbling in Midas’s throat. “Ruler Midas, eh?” The man heckles, extending his hand towards them and releasing Silencus from his grasp. “The name’s Dionysus.” Midas hesitantly meets his hand and shakes it, their whole body shaking with Dionysus’s movements. The name strikes a chord in Midas’s brain and SL | 56

all of the odd sensations from meeting Silencus in their rose garden to entering this fabled party connect all at once. “You mean to tell me,” Midas gawks, “that you are the Dionysus?” A wide smirk grows on his face at Midas’s realization and he nods in acknowledgment, reaching to his right for a chalice from one of the many partygoers. He gently plucks it from their hands and hands it to Midas, who takes it with a small bow in thanks. Dionysus waves his hand over the goblet in Midas’s hands and the cup refills, quickly sloshing over the edges with fresh wine. “The one and only. I must thank you, Ruler Midas, for finding my favorite satyr from his lost ways.” Dionysus leans forward towards Midas’s ear. “But don’t let the others know I said that, hm?” Dionysus raises his own chalice into the air and the creatures surrounding him cheer and do the same. “To Midas, the ruler with a heart of gold for returning what was once lost!” The crowd resounds back “To Midas!” before everyone tosses back their own drinks, Midas included. Dionysus empties his cup and pats Midas on the shoulder heartily, causingMidas to choke on their wine,

coughing a bit as Dionysus chuckles heartily at the sight. He shifts, sitting criss-cross in front of Midas, and leans his head into one of his hands, not unlike a child watching a pet with fascination. “Now, Midas, I am in debt to your kind ways. Is there anything in particular that you would desire to have? A decadent party in your name lasting weeks upon weeks, a never-ending supply of the finest wine from my own hands, even statues erected in your honor all across the land. You name it, I can have it done in no time.” Midas ponders this notion, clearly overwhelmed by this proposal offered to them. They huff out a small breath, opening their mouth to say something, anything, but only a small scoff escapes their lips. Dionysus smirks slightly at this reaction, mischief bubbling in his chest like champagne. He gently taps his fingers against his chin, taking in the fluctuating emotions shooting across Midas’s face. One moment of confusion and then in a flash, Midas’s eyes light up. They raise their eyes to meet Dionysus and the excitement buzzing between the two makes him chuckle. “Well, this should be fun,” he mutters to himself, sitting up straight. “I would like for the ability to turn anything I touch into solid, luxurious gold,” Midas finally states, crossing their arms across their chest. Dionysus blinks, taking in the request for a moment. “What?” Midas smirks, raising an eyebrow at him. “Don’t think you have the capacity to accommodate to that?” Dionysus leans backward slightly, feigning hurt. “I can accommodate that, Ruler Midas of Desdemona,” he bellows, waving a hand over his own chalice to refill it with a new, almost black liquid. “I only hope you understand what you’re asking for is all.” Midas nods in confirmation. “A blessing from the hands of Dionysus himself, what more could one ask for?” Dionysus scoffs slightly, nodding his head to one side in agreement. “If that is how you see it, then so it will be. Come.” He beckons for Midas to come closer, quickly takes their hands in one of his and takes a sip from his oozing black liquid.

He raises his hand to his lips and softly kisses Midas’s hands, allowing the drink to pool onto their fingers. Midas takes their hands back and raises them to the light, watching the black ooze absorb into their skin. A cold, metallic taste fills the mouth for a moment and they grimace at it. The black ooze follows up the veins on their hands and dissipates, a slight golden shimmer filling its place for a short moment. Midas flexes their hands, unsure of if anything truly happened. They take a quick glance at Dionysus with his eyebrow raised and quickly go to touch their robes. An almost comical moment is shared between the two, Midas hastily grabbing at their clothes and Dionysus laughing at them, a few partygoers laughing along with him. “Obviously it isn’t going to work right away, Ruler Midas,” Dionysus chuckles. “Return to your land and rest, the ‘blessing’ will become part of you when you wake.” He leans into Midas’s ear, lowering his voice to a whisper. “I truly hope you understand what you’ve asked for, Midas.” Dionysus stands and turns back to his guests, a roaring cheer greeting him as he returns to his seat. Midas’s skin tingles with excitement at the thought of tomorrow morning and giddily exits the way they came, haphazardly pushing past the brush in their way. Dionysus watches them cautiously as they leave, the golden light from the sun helping them disappear from his sight. He shakes his head in defeat, a deep feeling he knew all too well settling in his gut. “Good luck, Ruler Midas.” He mumbles under his breath, taking a sip from his goblet.

Daybreak peeks through the sheer curtains, pulling Midas from their slumber. They blink lazily, squinting at the sunlight streaming in through their window, painting a golden haze over the entire room. They pull the cover a little closer to their chin, noting how much cooler it feels to the touch. At that thought, their eyes shoot wide open and they scramble to sit up, looking at the blanket in their hands – or at least what would be considered a blanket if it weren’t made of solid gold. A small

laugh of disbelief escapes their lips as they grip the thin sheet of gold in their hands, excitement washing over them. “It works!” They gasp to themselves, shooting out of bed. They stare at their hands, a slight golden shimmer glistening on their skin. A smile creeps up on their lips and their eyes shoot straight to their nightgown. They quickly grasp it in two hands, and within an instant, golden tendrils spread across the fabric, giving it weight and a cool temperature. The clothing quickly solidifies into solid gold, a few flecks of the metal lingering on Midas’s fingertips. They run a hand through their hair in shock and turn towards the mirror on their wall. In the reflection, they watch as their hair turns from a deep, rich brown to an airy blonde, gold flickering in between strands. A new wave of disbelief washes over them, on the verge of not believing this SL | 58

person they see to be them.They reach out to touch the mirror and their reflection quickly dissipates behind a sheet of gold. Enthralled by this new power, Midas reaches over and touches the curtains, pulling them back from the window. A wave of gold flows over the fabric and solidifies, the room growing darker without the light streaming through the curtains. They turn back to their bed, resting their hand against the nightstand. The wood quickly warms in color, already overtaken by the gold flowing from their hands. Midas giggles like a schoolchild with a new toy at the sight, quickly sprinting out of the bedroom and down the stairs. They run their hand along the railing, the gold sliding off after them and encasing the railing. Midas pops off of the bottom stair with a jump, quickly heading towards the dining area. They are greeted with a fresh bouquet of roses from their garden as the centerpiece on the table and reach out to pluck one from the bushel. Midas closes their eyes and takes in the sweet scent, but is greeted with an almost… metallic smell instead. They open their eyes to be greeted by a rose identical to the one they just picked up, but made of solid gold. Midas deflates a bit at the sight, gently setting down the golden rose, careful to not touch the others in the arrangement. “No matter,” they huff to themself, holding their hands behind their back and taking a small whiff of the flowers. “I’ll simply enjoy from a distance, I suppose. Makes me appreciate it more.” Midas wrings their hands together, slightly more conscious of what they touch, and takes note of the breakfast set before them on the table. They go to grab a knife to cut the loaf of bread before them, but as they reach out to steady the bread as they cut, the loaf becomes wrapped in a gold appearance as well. Midas furrows their eyebrows at the sight, picking up the golden loaf and turning it in their hands. A heavy pit of anxiety settles in their stomach and they let out a ragged breath of worry. The strength in their legs gives way and they catch themselves on the table, turning their attention towards the tsunami of gold engulfing the wood of the table. Midas gasps and finds SL | 59

themselves backing into a chair, falling into it. The chair quickly gains weight as it spins itself into solid gold, and Midas loses their balance and topples over in the chair, crashing to the ground with a yell of anguish escaping their throat. Their hands quickly fall to the floor and the marble tiles covering the length of the castle abruptly change color, every single one of them shining a brilliant gold. “No no nonononono-” Midas babbles on, trying to peel the tiles out of place, desperately trying to get them to return to their original state. “Nononono NO!” They shout, staring at their hands. The gold flecks from earlier have now bled into their veins, crawling up their wrists and arms like a disease. Midas’s eyes grow wide at the sight, their body trembling in fear. “Are you alright, Midda? I heard you yell and I got concerned-” A soft voice calls, laced with worry as she reaches out and helps Midas off the ground, grabbing their hand. Midas quickly slaps Dahlia’s hand out of theirs, but it’s too late. Midas’s doting daughter stares at her hands in agony, a soft cry escaping from her. “Nonononono Sweetie I’m so sorry I-” Midas stumbles trying to comfort her but withdrawing their hands from touching her again in fear of ruining her. But it was far too late. Dahlia falls to her knees in fear as she scoots away from Midas, crawling back across the floor. “Midda help me!” She sobs, her crying growing silent in only a moment’s time as the gold crawls up her neck and completely covers her, freezing her tears in place on her cheek. Midas falls to their knees in front of this statue of their daughter, tears streaming down their own face as they sob, wiping away their tears, watching them turn to gold as they hit the floor with a soft plink. “I’m-Im-s-I’m so sorry, Dah-Dahl-Dahlia…” They choke out, stepping back from the mess they’ve created. In the haze of their delirium, Midas looks out the window behind Dahlia and out to the world beyond them, trying to figure out how they were going to continue to live this way, cursing everything they touch to turn to gold. In the midst of that thought, a familiar pairing passes by the rose garden entrance, and Midas’s eyes quickly

grow wide with rage and sorrow as they pass through their front doors and head toward the pair from yesterday. Midas stumbles over their own feet as they race towards the looming god before them, catching themselves as they run. The grass where they stumbled quickly snaps to gold behind them, and Dionysus’s name splits through their goldenslicked tears, and they manage to grab his attention. The rose bushes they push past catch hold of Midas’s nightgown, snagging and tearing the gold fabric. Midas falls before Dionysus, wringing their hands in disgust. “Please, please rid me of this curse, Sir Dionysus, I beg of you!” Silencus blinks widely at the ruler groveling before him, hopping backward as Midas reaches to touch his hoof. Dionysus’s stance stays unwavering, his eyes dull at the change of heart from Midas. “And why would you ever want me to take back a blessing from the hands of Dionysus himself? What more could one ask for?” He echoes Midas’s own words back at them, his voice deadpan. Midas looks up at him in shock, trying to hold back their rage from ripping into this good-fornothing god. “You know exactly what you have done to me! You knew I didn’t desire to turn my own daughter into solid gold, nor most other things for that manner! Please just-just- just take it back! Take my hands, my heart, my riches, I don’t care! Please just give me back my Dahlia!” Dionysus stares at Midas groveling below them, a haphazard mess of what all humans end up becoming in the end. He sighs, rolling his eyes at the pathetic ruler glued to his feet. “If you truly wish to rid yourself of the blessing you so desperately want,” Dionysus scoffs, narrowing his eyes at Midas, “then you must wash your hands in the river to give away the wealth in your skin.” Midas nods quickly, stumbling backward and toward the direction Dionysus pointed them to. Silencus quickly hides behind Dionysus, eyeing the smaller human sprinting past them, sobbing as they head for the river. Desperately clawing their way through the glittering mud, Midas chokes back sobs as they SL | 61

plunge their hands into the icy river. The water glistens with flakes of gold and fervent splashing. Cries of pain shatter the silence of the serene setting but nothing but golden water comes from trying to wash their hands. Midas lets out a blood-curdling scream to the heavens, curses and sorrowful pleas falling from their lips as they helplessly witness the golden veins from their fingers crawl up their arms and towards their body. Midas chokes on their voice as they fall backward, scraping blood and gold off of their arms. They claw and scratch and scrape away at the growing infection from their hands but they can’t keep up. Everywhere Midas touches, gold begins to bloom and spread like an ugly mold littering their skin. A grueling numbness quickly follows these golden tendrils across Midas’s body and they bury their head in their hands in defeat. Midas raises their face to the sky, silently accepting their impending fate, a string of prayers rolling off their tongue. They try to open their eyes to see the blue sky one more time, only to be greeted by darkness. Midas moves their fingers over their eyes frantically, but all they can feel is the smooth, cool surface of the metal they once obsessed over. They clutch at their chest lazily, sinking their nails into what little skin they could feel still, icy blood oozing freely. One final screech rips through Midas’s throat before trailing off into the air, followed by nothing.

“It’s truly a shame, this one.” Dionysus sighs with a shake of his head. He reached down to the sight before him, plucking something from the clutches of the statue covered in mud and dirt. Silencus cocks his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows at his godly friend’s find. Dionysus gently dips the object into the river and watches some of the gold flake into the stream. He lifts the golden sculpture into the air and turns it so that it gleams in the sunlight. His eyes drift back towards the figure below him, a slight sorrow brewing behind them. “They truly did have a heart of gold.” SL

issue credits Cover Illustrations: Savana “SJ” Johnson + Madison Moore Color Pages Photography: Morgan McCall Editing: Morgan McCall Model: Hope Daugherty Assistant: Arika Smith Letter from the Editor + Table of Contents Copy: Madison Moore Layout: Madison Moore Staff Line Up Photography: Morgan McCall Editing: Savana “SJ” Johnson Layout: Elyse Clayton Affirmation Photography: Mia “Mage” Dozier Editing: Mia “Mage” Dozier Layout: Kya Nilges Illustrations: Kya Nilges Model: Isabel Florence-Young Assistant: Abbey Heller Women Wronged By The History Books Photography: Naya Goodman Editing: Naya Goodman + Morgan McCall Layout: Madison Moore Illustrations: Morgan McCall Models: Lydia Graves + Maggie Lowery Assistants: Morgan McCall + Madison Moore Styling: Naya Goodman, Lydia Graves + Maggie Lowery Broken & Superglued Photography: Naya Goodman Editing: Naya Goodman Layout: Elyse Clayton Illustrations: Mia “Mage” Dozier Model: Shannon King Assistant: Morgan McCall Styling: Naya Goodman, Morgan McCall + Elyse Clayton Time Goes By Illustrations: Kya Nilges Layout: Kya Nilges

Emotional Mirror Photography: Mollie Davidson Editing: Mollie Davidson Layout: Mollie Davidson Models: Jordan Davis + Kya Nilges Lions, Tigers and Bears Photography: Morgan McCall Editing: Morgan McCall Layout: Morgan McCall Illustrations: Morgan McCall Models: Audrey Cornell, Magdalena Dale, Kathryn Kleinpeter, Olivia Lesnik, Amy Luppino, Taylor Mansour, Lucille Mellema + A Cinderellas Sequel (William) Assistants: Hope Daugherty, Michele McCall, Lydia Graves + Madison Moore Styling: Sydney Marquardt, Arika Smith + Alex Jockisch The Breakup Guide Illustrations: Madison Moore Layout: Madison Moore The Inner Child Photography: Mollie Davidson Editing: Mollie Davidson Layout: Jordan Davis Illustrations: Madison Moore Models: Hannah Vanover, Riley Pierson + Jasmine Cooper Assistant: Morgan McCall Styling: Mollie Davidson Are You Listening? Layout: Elyse Clayton Illustrations: Madison Moore I Will Decay Photography: Mia “Mage” Dozier Editing: Mia “Mage” Dozier Layout: Alex Jockisch Model: Arin Hawk Assistant: Abbey Heller Styling: Layla Husson Heavy Heart of Gold Photography: Savana “SJ” Johnson Editing: Savana “SJ” Johnson Layout: Savana “SJ” Johnson Illustrations: Savana “SJ” Johnson Model: Savana “SJ” Johnson Assistant: Madison Moore

Stephens Life / Spring 2023 / Issue No. 22

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Ukiyo [u-key-yo] (n.) living in the moment, detached from the bothers of life; floating, fleeting, transient world.