I’ll start this essay by saying that it’s been a while since I’ve had a breakup. A big part of this is that it’s been a long time since I dated someone new, and while it’s possible for a long-standing relationship to end (and devastating when it does), it’s typically active dating that invites in a spat of breakups. » Read more
I don’t know how you’ve kept from becoming a hard, bitter person with what you’ve gone through, the comment reads. It takes me a second to orient to what aspect of my history they’re talking about. In this case, it’s in response to an essay I wrote about a common bargain I made re: religion in my adolescence, » Read more
I find myself saying “I love you” a lot. I do it at the expected times: When we’re bonding, particularly when we’re being romantic. According to you, I say it in my sleep, even. “Love you, love you,” I mutter when I’m nudged but don’t quite wake from the jolt.
I say it so much that we’ve joked that if I were a Pokemon, » Read more
I was joking the other day that my nickname should be Update Girl. But it’s true.
When I’m working on something for someone else, I’m the person who pops in and says, unprompted, “Hey, here’s how it’s going.”
I don’t assume they know I’m making progress on it, unless I tell them I am. » Read more
“Shut up.” “Do you have to be so annoying?”
I don’t have that kind of bravery, the one that lets you dismiss other people. The one that compels you to tell them to shut up. Or to let them know that they’re being annoying.
Or that at least that’s what you think. » Read more
Sometimes I can hardly believe it. Every day I get to wake up and be with you. I get to spend my days with someone who wants to actually be with me. A best friend that I’m also attracted to. Someone who laughs with me at the dumb shared private jokes we tell back and forth. » Read more
I had an unsettling experience recently. While cleaning my desk, I stumbled upon a cache of notes and cards from my husband. I’d clearly saved them for a reason. There were a few encouraging cards with lovely things written on the front — and in about half of them lovely things written in my husband’s handwriting inside. » Read more
It isn’t just what happens to you. It’s how you interpret it. The lessons you learn. The way you talk to yourself about what has happened and apply that experience to the future.
The stories we tell ourselves matter. About what has happened to us, about what is currently going on, about what tomorrow might bring. » Read more
The first time you asked me, “How would you feel about moving to Texas?” I laughed.
I thought you were joking.
Because there was nothing on the surface that had ever called to me about Texas. And there were enough stereotypes about it being unsafe there for people who were different… » Read more
“Why is it that people are so quick to throw everything away to cling to someone needy, high maintenance, and dysfunctional?” she asks me.
“I ask for so little,” she continues. “I take care of my own needs and do my best to try to be flexible. It’s not always easy, but I know it’s what I want when I’m on the other side of things. » Read more