Leaving began to feel like a comfort; if the country couldn’t get out of its rut, then at least I could get out of mine.
I had so many clothes, none of them special. More than just a closet refresh, I needed to change my attitude toward clothing, money, and being pelit.
Cooking without meat has forced me to be creative in the kitchen and expanded the confines of my world.
For a long time, I believed you had to keep these records. I knew so little about who I was and what I wanted.
Just as I was reaching the peak of my abilities—and as the pandemic began—I left professional ballet behind, before ever giving my dreams a proper try.
The email some anonymous stranger had sent to my boss was an agonizing reminder of how I lived, the choices I made, and the priorities I held close.
Their judgment is clear every time, and my aunt is the only one who is bold enough to say it with her chest: I am a bad mom.