I’ve never had the misfortune of having to say too many goodbyes, which is (a) good, because I rarely feel it, but also (b) bad, because when I feel it, I Feel it.
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The moon makes me feel so much more important and permanent than I am.
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My brain transforms songs into time capsules.
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While this year hasn’t been kind to our human need for community, I’ve found it powerful and important to consciously look for and pursue moments of togetherness.
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Quarantine and Instagram DMs have taught me the value of speech, and how much people enjoy talking to each other about anything under the sun.
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Cooking during quarantine and the way it’s helped me connect with my dad has been an unexpected silver lining.
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Her name was Breonna Taylor, she was 27, and she deserved much more. She deserved her LIFE.
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It is man’s defining synonym for women they feel they owe no justice to: crazy.
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A pre-birthday reflection on the trials, tribulations, and defining lessons of a life.
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The Bookshop Women, of which I am now one, brought me into their family when I was only looking for extra cash.
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As “The Circle Game” re enters its continuous loop, I won’t expect that growing up will be my saving grace.
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I keep expecting myself to drastically change from year to year, expecting that maybe by next year I’ll find myself or know who I want to be.
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I realized that letting people in does not erase my personhood—in fact, it makes me more whole, more real.
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On Being A Late Bloomer and Mourning Alternate Pasts
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After realizing that there was no longer any normal to cling to—let alone fall back into—I began to feel more than free to actively seek out a version of myself that feels right—not familiar.
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My goal has shifted from money, to being fulfilled, which for me, means having a positive impact on my environment and voicing myself through creation.
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To you with the long name, the unique name, the “foreign name”—make them say it right.
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And I do have that habit of collecting trinkets, yet the one thing I truly hoard is sentimental objects.
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D&D gave me a bought of self-confidence I didn’t think I could have.
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This is a letter to all those who recognize my words the way they recognize their limbs. . . . You’ve been carrying this for too long. I see you. It was never your fault.
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