~Jennie’s~

“You don’t need to be perfect to be powerful.”

That’s what the flyer said. So here I am.

The community center smells like cinnamon and lavender. Something soft. Something safe. The floors creak under my feet, old but proud. Folding chairs line the little room, filled with round-bellied women in stretchy dresses, sipping free juice and laughing about baby names that sound like weather patterns.

I stand near the back, hugging my guitar case tighter. My bump feels heavier tonight. Like it’s carrying more than a baby. Like it’s carrying every emotion I have tried not to cry about.

“She’s here!” someone calls. It takes me a second to...