The Rituals of Love in Everyday Life
Having settled into sweet solitary contentment, I wasn’t looking for love. It found me anyway. Meeting an old friend, I was struck by Cupid’s arrow when I realized she was single.
“Transparent” Changed Me (And TV) Forever
“Do you have something to tell us?” my mom joked. It was a joke, because of course I didn’t. “No,” I said with a laugh. And I thought I was telling the truth.
For Your Consideration: Knowing When It’s Over
You have to know when to end things, and you have to follow through with it.
The None-est of All: My Journey as a Reluctant, Disabled Athlete
Watching them sweat from my spa on the sidelines, I’d thank my body. On the one hand, so humiliating; on the other, its own defense mechanism against the wretchedness of exercise.
How I Claimed Being Thirsty as a Personal Lifestyle and Learned to Live My Dreams
The more I allowed myself to want, the more I realized I wanted. The more I leaned in to my desires, the clearer they became.
Marching at the End of a Very Long Parade: On Being A Queer Alcoholic
I got sober alone, in a village about an hour north of Kampala, Uganda. I had moved there for a job opportunity, naively confident I, as an openly queer person with a mental illness, could flit across the globe like a moth. By the time I quit my job and scheduled an emergency move back to the United States, my drinking was threatening my life.
15 Crushes and the Art They Gave to Me
Listening to a song your crush recommends is a low-stakes window into their identity. It’s a way to get closer to someone, away from them. And isn’t that what a crush is all about? A solitary experience that has everything to do with the other person and at the same time nothing at all?
For Your Consideration: Bridges
When everything starts moving too fast, I like to walk on bridges.
For Your Consideration: Introduction to Women’s Studies
I didn’t know then that Devon would become one of those women in my life who’s there for good, who I could not text for months and then suddenly dive right back in with. One of those friends who would show up, who would stay.
How My Badass Butch Skyrim Character Saved My Life
In the mirror, I saw a scrawny, hollow-eyed girl dressed in ill-fitting boys’ clothes, a parody of a parody of masculinity. But in the screen, I saw myself made strong, confident, fearless, perfect.
You’re Just You: An Accidental Love Letter to Los Angeles
“Towards the end of the night you fall and tear the skin on your knee. But you pop back up and keep skating. You’re relieved. Now that you’ve fallen once you know you’ll be okay.”
For Your Consideration: Changing Associations After a Breakup
For when wiping the slate completely clean isn’t really an option.
For Your Consideration: This Stupid F*cking Juice
This cold-pressed, organic, lacto-fermented, natural, biodynamic, raw juice is the answer to all my problems, surely.
This Year Is Gonna Be a Good One: Birthday Diaries, 2001-2018
17 years of birthday diary entries.
For Your Consideration: Chaos Journaling
It’s like bullet journaling except not at all!
Reaching Out for My Queer Muslim Community to Hold Me After Christchurch
In times like these, when people don’t understand us and decide that this means we shouldn’t live at all, we need to connect with the people that do understand, even if just a little bit, even if peripherally.
How to Be a Grown Woman
“Maybe I could teach you how to do that and you could teach me a couple of things I’ve been wonderin’,” I told her. She shook my hand. It was a deal.
You Don’t Always Transition Once
Transitioning is stigmatized as betraying our assigned gender. Sometimes, though, it takes two betrayals to get where we need to be.
For Your Consideration: What (Not) to Watch After You’ve Been Cheated On
While recovering from being cheated on, you’re honestly best off bingeing unscripted cooking series or documentaries about serial killers or just not watching TV at all and instead playing The Sims, where you can create your own fantastical world where nobody cheats and where if they do there are immediate consequences.
The Might-Have-Been
I was only pregnant for seven and a half weeks before my miscarriage. There was no body, no breath; there was no measurable part of a lifetime spent together. I’d only known there was life inside my body for three and half weeks, and yet the experience seems to still have a heartbeat.