I knew he would.
Even though I told him many times before he left, please don’t buy me anything —
and then twice again, over text.
The first time, he was in the Gucci store in Rome. Since he wasn’t believing or hearing my words, I
I am sorry I have not written. As Anne Sexton aptly put it — it’s hard to write when one is gritting one’s teeth.
I will not give any more excuses because what I have learned about apologies is this: excuses dilute them. Instead of going
https://wordsofwomennewsletter.ghost.io/zoom-invite-for-town-hall-tonight/
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https://wordsofwomennewsletter.ghost.io/time-to-make-history-your-marching-orders/
https://wordsofwomennewsletter.ghost.io/youre-part-of-the-resistance/
Today is my birthday. I am thirty-five.
As I woke up this morning, swallowing the reality that I am nearly halfway through my life, I asked myself: How did I get here? And maybe more importantly: Where is here?
I am an adult. That’s what thirty-five means. Not