Aug 29, 2022
The Two Sides of American Health Care
This dichotomy in American health care is well-known to patients with chronic illness.
This dichotomy in American health care is well-known to patients with chronic illness.
Each time I used my credit card, I rationalized my ballooning debt by imagining a future in which I was satisfied with my transition.
When you love someone with dissociative identity disorder, you are not building one healthy relationship—you are building many.
Anyone who has lost and subsequently gained weight back can tell you that you will be treated differently in real, material ways. The difference is at once alluring and painful.
I want medicine to meet me where I am, not where it wants me to be.
In the time since being an active Tumblr user, I’ve seen our cultural standards for what is “desirable” shift so much.
Make me thin, I told God. Make me pretty. I added to the list: Make me Annie.
I have spent most of my life hating the fact of having a body. It makes sense that my body would eventually start to hate me back.
Soon after I bought the game, I began to obsess over another map, one that also didn’t fully exist.
On some level I know the system is designed to break me down, but I feel guilty because I am good at letting it.
Am I ever going to know where I hope to escape to? I understand that I’m trying escape from reality, but I’m still not clear on what the destination is.
I wanted one too, from the very beginning. I don’t have any scars, I insisted. I don’t have anything to show for it.
As a mother, feeling strong requires different abilities than the ones I had before becoming a parent.
The Lexapro were small and white; the generic was free under my insurance. More expensive were the plants.
The idea that a place exists where trans people are free to be in and around the water fills me with joy.
I was certain my appearance would mask my secret: that I didn’t belong.
A space has been created by this unflinching journalism, this unabashed Instagram memoir.
I believed I had been nurtured, like a lamb, for one purpose: Mine was to be thin.
Each night, I faced my fear. Again and again, I went to bed.
I could only acknowledge my thyroid condition from sly, sideways angles—a hobbit stealing from a sleeping dragon’s hoard.
