Jenny Rowe
Bio
Jenny Rowe lives in Iowa City and teaches ESL to students both here and abroad (remotely). She was teaching English in Beijing before the global pandemic. Her work has appeared both locally and overseas in Beijing's Spittoon Collective.
Stories (4/0)
Eternal Spring
I love spring, but who doesn't? It's natural for most of us to associate the tiny pink or white flowers exploding on crisp trees with our own internal sense of renewal. It's also easy as a Midwest native to appreciate spring. As an Iowa resident, I eagerly look forward to feeling warm sunlight on my face after yet another long, cold winter. The sun's nearly here again, but I'm currently celebrating my spring break (as a teacher), and true to pretty much every Iowa spring break I've experienced, it's snowing.
By Jenny Rowe3 years ago in Motivation
How a Survivor Survives Divorce
Divorce sucks. Regardless of the circumstances between you and your former spouse, it's going to be difficult. The number of years you were married doesn't seem to lessen the emotional sting, either. I have an aunt who recently divorced after forty years of marriage and a close friend who, like me, divorced after five. Both have experienced and are still experiencing pangs of grief that, like chronic illnesses, really never go away completely. But, I'm not writing this piece for "normal" divorcees (whatever that means). This short essay is for anyone else who, like me, had to divorce swiftly, with a protection order.
By Jenny Rowe3 years ago in Psyche
Epilogue
I am the daughter you didn’t know you had. My mother, the woman you once called Wife, had me fourteen weeks after your divorce was finalized. You didn’t know she was pregnant because she did not tell you. The divorce was as simple as it was painful, made under the safety blanket of a one-year protection order. There was no in-person mediation, no court appearances. She paid for a good attorney who blocked you from her, and me. I was melon-sized in her round belly when the attorney mailed Mom the final papers, which you reluctantly signed and notarized. You asked to see her one more time. The attorney said no.
By Jenny Rowe3 years ago in Wander