Writing

Making Mistakes

Mistakes were something other people could make. Mistakes were something that I was to avoid at all costs. But I made them, and every mistake appeared as personal failure.

Read More

Anxiety In An Anxious Age

Anxiety was no longer simply buzzing in my head. Instead, it felt like bees were buzzing in my brain and under my skin. It was a constant hum that I couldn’t escape. Sometimes, it seemed that the bees would burst out of my skin.

Read More

My Anger Remains

I also don’t know how not to be angry or how to push it aside and let it go. And I worry about the costs of my near constant rage. Will it change me into a person I don’t want to be?

Read More

The Costs of Speaking Out

I hate the need to balance the physical and emotional well‐being of my family against an opportunity to educate and inform. I hate that harassment and threats appear expected and commonplace rather than the horrors that they actually are.

Read More

Not Quite Half-Full

My glass gets emptier and emptier by the day. Caution remains, a constant companion. But my optimism has been misplaced. It is harder and harder to find

Read More

Scroll to Top