Your personal essays and memoirs-in-progress. Submissions Feed
Six-word Memoir Tshirts for Sale

Get social with SMITH


The SMITH Superfeed
All the stories submitted to the site, even ones we write

We are not accepting submissions at this time.

He'll tell you he knew he wanted to marry me when I got lost and walked into the kitchen instead of the bathroom at Joseph's Pizzeria. As I shuffled back into the restaurant, hoping he hadn't noticed, he watched me and smiled and just - knew.

For me, it was earlier in the night, when he called to say he was outside of my apartment. Actually, he was standing across the street - he'd never been there before. He didn't see me right away and I stood there for a second before getting his attention. He looked different than he had before. We'd seen each other off and on as children and teenagers, but something had changed in Nathaniel since the last time we …

When the Dancer Becomes the Dance
Donya Feuer Oct. 31, 1934 – Nov. 6, 2011

On my 40th birthday a true legend died.

A few years ago while I was working on my dissertation “Pure Artistry: Ingmar Bergman, the Face as Portal and the Performance of the Soul” Harvey Lichtenstein at Brooklyn Academy of Music, a man whom I didn’t know personally but who knew I was interviewing various of Bergman’s collaborators, encouraged me to contact Donya Feuer in Stockholm. I came to understand that in the Swedish and Norwegian dance worlds, at least among the members of those Nordic countries’ cultural intelligentsia and to some extent also in the U.S., Feuer had become something of a legend due to her mastery of …

When the Dancer Becomes the Dance
Donya Feuer Oct. 31, 1934 – Nov. 6, 2011

On my 40th birthday a true legend died.

A few years ago while I was working on my dissertation “Pure Artistry: Ingmar Bergman, the Face as Portal and the Performance of the Soul” Harvey Lichtenstein at Brooklyn Academy of Music, a man whom I didn’t know personally but who knew I was interviewing various of Bergman’s collaborators, encouraged me to contact Donya Feuer in Stockholm. I came to understand that in the Swedish and Norwegian dance worlds, at least among the members of those Nordic countries’ cultural intelligentsia and to some extent also in the U.S., Feuer had become something of a legend due to her mastery of …

Being stuck in a dirt-poor family with a devout Mormon mother and an explosive, absent dad wasn’t what I had in mind for my life.

Between daily home church sessions to save our souls, regular trips to the church welfare office to beg for food, and irregular visits from my dad that often ended in screaming fits, kicked-in walls and broken furniture, I had reached my breaking point and started fantasizing about a way out.

At age nine, with nowhere to run, I adopted a daily mental escape ritual that consisted of locking myself in my attic room, laying down on the stack of mattresses that constituted my bed, closing my eyes and dreaming about my real family--the Osmonds--who would soon come to …

Today, I traded in my silver Toyota mini-van with a dent in a rear panel and 40 bumper stickers all over the back of it for an “almost new” used Toyota Camry. The Camry is a sea green, blue color, “aloe green” they call it. It is not a “mommy-mobile” like the mini-van and now that my youngest is 7, we are all ready to say good-bye to the cheerios all over the car. But, like any kid, I struggle with the desire to let go of who I was and grow into the person I was meant to be.
I am an accountant by trade. I was a CPA for 20 years. I am a practical, organized person as a result of some success …

SHELLSHOCKED

Looking down at my younger brother’s feet in the beach parking lot, I thought such whiteness existed only in the dead. It was a reminder that he didn’t get outdoors much, and this made me, an avid open-water swimmer, sad.
Fred “went away” to the Willowbrook State School for the Mentally Retarded at the age of four and from the age of twenty has resided in a group home for people with disabilities. Mom and Dad were his connection to “typical” life until their deaths. And I was always his hero. But probably because of a childhood of Sunday visits “to take Fred out,” I focused on career as a young adult and we became acquaintances. Becoming his guardian in my 50’s, …

Constantly restless, just want to hibernate.

Up to this point in my life I've been recovering from losses of my family. I pulled away and am now slowly getting to know more of my family and getting very close to them. I love them so much and since before this year I didn't really know them that well. I can't believe how much family I really have. Since meeting more of my family I've grown more closer and attached with the people I love, I have an amazing boyfriend who supports me in everything that I do. I have the most amazing family ever and I love them so much I've had many losses but also many gains. I have published poems and great times in my life.

I was in Rangoon to atone for my sins.

It was the Fall of 2007, the Jewish High Holidays, and I had gone to Burma to do some research on the small Jewish community that had been there for about 200 years. I planned to celebrate the High Holidays with them, observing Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement for the first time in about fifteen years. I did a little sightseeing too—a temple that held a hair of the Buddha, the 12th century ruins of Bagan, the floating villages on Inle Lake, a monastery filled with cats trained to jump through hoops. There was nothing political about my purposes in Burma, yet politics was in the air.

Around the time …

Do you know what it's like to be in so much pain that you throw up. To be in so much pain that everything in the world doesn't exist, and in that moment when you're given the news that will change your life forever everything around you freezes. You can be in the most public of places and not care what anyone thinks of you. You just fall to your knees and cry. The tears you shed poor out of your eyes so rapidly and you just let it happen. You can't see a thing, and your clothes are suddenly soaked. This all happens in just one moment, a split second. It's scary how quickly life can change. It's also scary to imagine the worst …

Bitter Sweet Goodbye

I’ve got that feeling again
Itching deep in my skin
The feeling of never leaving just to be with you
The feeling of staying for all eternity
Just to have a lifetime together
now let’s run away
To a place where we can always stay
Let’s procrastinate like
We did back when we were kids
And wait to say those dreaded words
Don’t let them be your last

Chorus:
Let’s run away, and leave this town behind
Don’t look back, we’re on our own this time
We’ll make mistakes, and memories
As we live young and recklessly
Let’s dream of a forever
Write one last letter
Because this is our bitter sweet goodbye.

We all read stories about people surviving terrible accidents and we say how thankful we are to have all that we have. When we hear tragic stories we want to change and become more appreciative, and we say that we will. We all experience things that hurt us and give us pain and we all have a story. We carry memories and secrets with us everywhere we go and they trail behind reminding us of all we have suffered. When something bad happens we have an insight to change our ways and become better, but we almost always fall back into the same patterns. Not because we want to, but because it’s easier and we are weak. Just 6 months ago my life flipped upside …

She walks with a past so dark and deep
One that’s created her identity
She wanted to laugh and feel like a kid
But she battled things she wish she never did
A mom who just wanted to get away
From all the things that he’d say
The yelling echoes of a fight
That carried on through the night
She’d swallow down another pill
To wash out all the pain of the world
He’d pack his bags and leave the house
The memories stay with her now

She said “Mom and dad I wish you knew
The misery that you put me through
I was young and alone with none by my side
While you two resorted to screaming fights
I can’t get rid …

Are promises really made to be broken?
Or is that simply just a line misspoken
The silent words that fall from your lips
Leave me doubting, leave me doubting it

The things you say and the things you do
They let me know, that we’ll make it through
Those washed out eyes hide so much
But the pain inside keeps building up

Promises that drift away
They Leave behind a trail of faith
Walking down that empty path
Wishing (wishing) you could take it backRead more »

When I was five, I had my first lesson on death and the process of being buried when my grandparents attended a funeral. Being five, I didn't understand the occasion and why I wasn't allowed to go for a ride in the car with them.

My closest friends lived across the non-busy street and I went to play with them often. This day wasn't any different. While my grandparents watched a loved one being placed into the ground I, without a care in the world, swung on the swingset, made sand castles in the sand box, and pounded away at the piano keys on the upright piano until I was summoned home.

After lunch, a ham sandwich and glass of …

Part of the reason I wanted to hitchhike was that anyone who picked me up did not know me, didn’t know that I had no friends, didn’t know I rode a school bus to a high school and sat in classrooms. When I stepped into a car or up into the cab of an eighteen-wheeler I could be the adventuress I was sure I was supposed to be.

I told Joseph I had older brothers. Not true. I didn’t mention the two actual younger sisters. Older brothers at least put me in the company of men. It implied that I hung out with them and their friends. I liked the idea of older brothers.

Days later when he was still with me and …

Ive made it this far. part of the kings and queens of high school. so many things to do. so little time. senior projects kill.

I feel like everyone has everything figured out and I don't. I feel so left behind, my best friend is moving on to bigger and better things. I need an escape. I need to get away from the world, just fade away from it. I wish I knew the answer to happiness, but does anyone really? I live my life in tears and hide behind my pain. For once I just want someone to hear me out.

In June of 2000, the call center where I had been employed for nine years announced that they would be closing their doors by the end of the year. The company began gradually rerouting the calls to an alternate center across the country in an attempt to make the transition as seamless as possible for their customers. I was advised that my last day of work would be on October 15, 2000 and the dangling carrot of a severance package kept me there until the bitter end.

After the initial reeling, I rallied back to accept the inevitable and decided that it would be an ideal time to go back to school. The world of graphic design was calling to me. I submitted a …

I wake up to an annoying alarm clock and a foot in my eye. My shirt is soaked and I assume it's breast milk, only to realize later it's pee. I grab my phone to shut off the alarm and discover that I’m already ten minutes late; I must have hit the snooze button in my frantic attempt to gain those few extra minutes of sleep that I’ve been missing for the past three years. I check the baby snuggled up next to me and realize that he is soaked too. I pull off his blue-cotton-footy pajamas trying not to wake him and throw away his two pound diaper. I’m always amazed at the amounts his little body can hold. …
Jump to a page 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 ... to infinity!

 
SMITH Magazine

SMITH Magazine is a home for storytelling.
We believe everyone has a story, and everyone
should have a place to tell it.
We're the creators and home of the
Six-Word Memoir® project.