Each season of haircutting marked a major life shift, and I recoiled because I was tired of transitioning. I just wanted to be.
They said I was traumatized, and that my fragile mental state would have to indefinitely play catchup with my rapidly healing body.
Rozha fled an abusive marriage, and survived the death of her son. Now she claims what is hers.
I debated for a long time whether I would describe sex with Reese. I didn’t know if I could stand knowing that it might turn some readers on, that it could sustain their fantasies about underage girls. Some of you have come to this essay for the sex, whether you’d admit to it or not.
A woman living alone has heard every story about the woman living alone. We constantly negotiate the knowledge of our vulnerability, both real and amplified by stories we’re told.
It wasn’t just that Antarctica was no place for women—it was expressly a place for men.
It’s been more than four years since my husband announced he was in love with my friend and no longer wanted to be married to me.
“Very deep down I know that we will rise, but for now, I still need to mourn the debris.”
An “energizer bunny” who spent weekends hiking, she now battles chronic pain and fatigue.
“I wonder if we’re all self-possessed marionettes, our strings on the inside.”