Introspection


Paraphernalia of Love

This year, I’ve found that my relationship with the past has gradually changed; that its pull, while still tender, has become primarily sharp and painful. I’ve found myself not just indulging in these trips down memory lane, but wishing I could stay in them forever.


Teenage Dream

When I was a preteen, Rookie fueled the daydreams that I had about my incoming teenage years. I imagined warm parties, memorable misadventures, my picture-worthy prom dress. Not something perfect, but something precious that I could only access in the years between 12 and 20.


Paraphernalia Flowers

A flower stand at the farmer's market back home in California that the author frequents in the summer.


Dear Sophomore Year Cover

One year after publishing “Dear Freshman Year,” MG returns to write a letter to her sophomore year.


memories of a city i've never known

We thought too much in Johannesburg, about Johannesburg. I wanted quiet.


Teenage Dream Rookie Magazine

The girl on my computer screen is an unnamed high schooler, only a few years older than I am, but I idolize her as if she were a supermodel on the cover of Vogue.


Twins in an Ice Cream Shop

With my twin, I feel like it’s us against the world. The world, on the other hand, seems that it would prefer us against each other. Over our 19 years, we’ve received comments such as, “Wow, your sister’s gorgeous! You look nothing alike,” “Oh, so you’re the disappointment, then?” and “How does it feel to have a sister so much smarter than you?” And my personal favorite: “You’re just so… different” (Ambiguity only baits the imagination.)


Yasmeen Endpaper Collage

Still, I can’t shake the fact that my love for Los Angeles Apparel opposes my self-professed feminist politics. When I add another tennis skirt to my shopping cart, I line the pockets of a man who built his career on the degradation of women.


Direct Flash

I can’t shake the fact that my love for Los Angeles Apparel opposes my self-professed feminist politics. When I add another tennis skirt to my shopping cart, I line the pockets of a man who built his career on the degradation of women.


Putting Society’s Ableism into Perspective

I remember how much I struggled to find the right words to write — staring at the computer screen for hours, refusing to write the word “disabled.”


Lost on a Run and Finding Home

I realized, in what felt like the middle of nowhere, on this expedition to prove to myself that I could find security in my new environment, that I was alone in being responsible for myself.


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