At 25, I realize my father hasn’t met anyone of significance in my life, just these constant fictitious characters in the stories that helped me feel American.
What if I told you the New Year isn’t necessary to make a resolution? You can put ink […]
When I hit the pavement, I feel like I’m flying. It’s the one time of the day that I feel the most like myself.
If these walls could talk what would they say?
I’ve never been a very confident person. Not as a child or a teenager. And now as a […]
So, I am curious: when does one become a “slut”?
For me, it’s kind of like exercise. Yes, it will hurt. Possibly a little, but probably a lot. There are going to be times when I want to quit, when it doesn’t feel like it’s worth it. But at the end of the day, I’ll come out not only stronger but happier too.
I love him and everything is great. I feel safe like everything I have ever worried about no longer matters and every fear I have in life can never touch me. But I don’t want to marry him.
I couldn’t believe how healing the entire process was: the writing itself, the discussions prior to publishing, and then the conversations it allowed me to have after it was published. It felt like scrubbing myself clean after years of feeling a mix of blame and shame and disgust and numbness.
I don’t think the sunset cares if you think it’s pretty or not.