My childhood rat tail was a lesson on the borders of class and gender.
My former therapist, a well-meaning white woman, once asked me, “Do you think he treated you badly because you are Asian?”
Science provides me with a vocabulary of illness, confirming what my body already knows: that it will never be the same
During those first weeks, I was in a never-ending, often failing battle with Penny, then an eight-pound roly-poly of a beagle
Maybe these home remedies aren’t just tricks or distractions. Maybe they are insistences on our well-being.
I decided to try to find a more complete scientific narrative about trauma instead of accepting damage as a foregone conclusion.
It isn’t my job to bear as much pain as I possibly can to prove that I am somehow worthy of becoming a mother. Why is it so hard to remember this?