PCOS and Queerness: A Bodily Haunting
Despite being one of, if not the, most common endocrine disorder in those classified as women by the medical system, there is barely any research on PCOS.
Despite being one of, if not the, most common endocrine disorder in those classified as women by the medical system, there is barely any research on PCOS.
In 2022, I brought my girlfriend daddy to my homeland.
Last night, while out with a date, my voice pitched too high. I winced internally. There are a lot of complications around this for me.
At the time, I didn’t know that I was experiencing a contentious procedure that would leave me physically scarred and emotionally wounded. I did it because I was told I should. Decades later, I learned about assent in a postgraduate research course.
“I’m an easy host, a rake, a card, I’m bejeweled, I have a gay face. I want to love and be loved. If reaching is a kind of being, it’s a reaching toward.”
Psychologists can see potential in every patient who is seeking therapy. I can’t look at my marriage without seeing all the ways we could still fix it.
I came across the concept of the “designated son” on TikTok.
“I was around the same age as young Ellie when ‘Contact’ came out. The way she so clearly carries her childhood self with her made adulthood legible; it made time seem like less of an unknowable straight line and something more like a circle. Watching it as an adult I have that same feeling.”
Realistically, I understand that if you do something for 11 months, the chance that you’ll feel good for every second of those 11 months is zero.
Asking for help, the kind that requires another person to set aside time for me, to exert themselves physically, feels as easy as touching a hot stove.
If time is blurry, and I think it is, then so is everything else.
I’ve been eulogizing, just to myself, in the moments between other moments that are claimed by tasks or thoughts of the present or literally anything else.
We all know how a certain kind of kiss can eclipse time.
Essays about turning 30 are almost as annoying as essays about moving to or from New York.
USPS has been sending my mail to my ex.
Every few days, Healthcare Workers Watch sends me a google drive folder with lists of names and photos of healthcare workers killed and abducted in Gaza.
I wondered if my friends were afraid that the honesty it takes to face that a relationship needs to end might be contagious. If they stood too close to me, they might realize they wanted to take a closer look in that mirror too.
My ex and I mutually proposed to each other on Christmas last year.
There’s a certain kind of comfort to me in dishevelment.
When I was in fourth grade, I got in trouble for discussing how fast my body would decompose if I was stabbed.