Living, loving & writing on PURPOSE
● Featured Article
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I let the bandages from my six-hour surgery stay on longer than I should have. Days passed. More than a week. Through showers, trips to the store, and walks around the neighborhood, the flimsy, dull white strips were barely hanging on. Nine months earlier, I had been diagnosed with Stage…
● Latest Articles
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Lessons breast cancer taught me
I plopped down on the side of my unmade bed in search of some quiet. My noisy life of work, kids and concerns had me…
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It’s time to sing–not R. Kelly; but ‘no more’
There is a sleepy street on the east side of Birmingham, where a pudgy, old man used to live with his blind seamstress wife. Each…
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Becoming the one-breasted lady
While standing in the kitchen cooking dinner recently, my mind flashed back to a woman I hadn’t seen or thought of since third grade: G-Baby.…
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The first step in my healing is forgiveness
The morning after I was diagnosed with breast cancer, I was in bed buried beneath blankets with no immediate plans to emerge. There were plenty…
● About Me
Southern storyteller penning essays, articles and musings about Black health, culture, style, and faith.
Marie A. Sutton 