Body

Published on September 30th, 2016 | by Tyler Cohen

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EBB AND FLOW: A Mama Pants Comic by Tyler Cohen

This excerpt from Ebb & Flow is part of a longer contemplation on bodies at the beginning arc of physical and social transition. As always, I have no answers, only observations and feelings. Read the full story in Primahood: Magenta, available now from StackedDeckPress.com.

“Mama Pants juxtaposes comics about frequently hilarious, often terrifying, always glorious experience of raising a girl in America with beautifully surreal artwork which explores the Id of parenting itself. Wild and messy, truthfully funny and casually radical, this is an amazing, vibrant, important book.” ~ Michelle Tea, author of Black Wave 

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About the Author

Tyler Cohen (She/They) is a cartoonist who likes to mix autobiography and surrealism. Her book, Primahood: Magenta, won the 2017 Bisexual Book Award for Graphic Memoir. Tyler’s work has also appeared online at PEN Illustrated and MuthaMagazine.com, and in print in numerous anthologies, including the Eisner Award-winning Drawing Power and Ignatz Award-winning Qu33r. They are a lecturer in Comic Studies at San Francisco State University.


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  • #nicu #birth #breathe “My grandmother, the wildest woman I knew, never met my second child. Zayne Heather Logan passed away shortly before my own miracle entered the world.” “Just the day before I had been twelve years old and pregnant. Now I was recovering from the abortion. Only a year before that, in what felt like my body’s ultimate betrayal, I got my first period. It had come regularly every month since until it didn’t and I was nauseous every day. Even though I’d had sex for the first time just a few weeks before, it didn’t occur to me that I could be pregnant.” “I didn’t know if I would look back on this as the moment I met my son, or if it would become the memory of cradling someone else’s son in my arms—kissing his brand-new forehead, whispering congratulations, and then placing him back in the arms of his mother, never seeing either of them again.” “Their baby books sat waiting to be updated with their latest milestones. I’d become a ghostwriter, setting aside my own journal to document their days. It dawned on me: I’d been crowded out of my own home. Even worse, I’d participated in my own disappearance.” Write for us! Get all the details at muthamagazine.com. In our newest Ask a MUTHA installment, MUTHAs share their thoughts on how abortion access has affected their lives. “In 1984, when I had my abortion, there were approximately 300 clinics in the state and access was easy. When I went to get an abortion, I didn’t have to worry about pro-life demonstrators menacing me as I walked into the clinic, didn’t fear that the place might be vandalized or bombed or that a certified abortion provider could be murdered. After the procedure was finished, I felt nothing but relief.” “The truth is, it was hard to have an abortion. Not because I wouldn’t make the same choice again. But because it’s so fucking hard to live as a deeply empathic person who is nonetheless told that she has no morals and no appreciation for life.”

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