Columns

The ABC sitcom “Boy Meets World” was a staple of my childhood. My sister and I spent many afternoons watching the hilarious and often idiosyncratic adventures of Cory, Shawn, and Topanga play out. Cory was the loyal and good-natured protagonist who had a…

Content warning: The following contains discussions of trauma and death. Sometimes I forget that I have, like, an actual degree in counseling. People come to me for advice, and it takes me a hot second to remember that I have, in fact, put the work in. I’m no longer an…

In October, I fulfilled a childhood dream of mine by finally opening an online art shop. For years, friends and family encouraged me to do this. While I’m no Rembrandt, I have always enjoyed expressing my creativity in the form of drawings. Art is my favorite…

I don’t prefer the phrase “disabled person.” It isn’t a go-to accessory item regularly pulled from my colorful closet of self-descriptors. Before we go any further, let me assure you: If you describe yourself in this way, I’m wholly accepting of you and your perspective. I welcome your thoughts; I…

In his essay for The New Yorker, “Who Am I?”, comedian Demetri Martin explores his identity both literally and figuratively. He opens by saying that he is “not a thing that is just lying around somewhere, like a pen,…

Once every few weeks, I’m reminded of my own mortality. A lot of folks dread their period. It’s a definitively unpleasant time between the cramps and the blood and the hormonal mood swings that evoke a hangry toddler. But it’s not the period that I dread. It’s the days —…

It’s so much more than the turkey. Memories of childhood Thanksgiving gatherings with grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins take me to a happy place. My paternal grandmother, Mammaw, wearing white socks and practical black shoes, poured sugar into the bowl for cake icing while the best ever…

Ella, 10, the youngest of our three children, is thriving. She has friends from school, in the neighborhood, and online. She sings in a community choir, and occasionally plays with her siblings. Due to Ella’s disease, spinal muscular atrophy type 2, which directly affects her respiratory…

If 2020 were a movie, it would have the aesthetic of David Lynch and the shocking twists and horrors of a Stephen King novel, and it would run the length of an unedited Peter Jackson epic. Viewers would yearn for a filmmaker like Wes Anderson to sweep in…

Can I be real for a minute? Totally honest? Maybe even a little bit of a downer? I’m disappointed. 2020 was supposed to be my year. I had all sorts of plans — tattoos and writing retreats and parties, because you only graduate with a master’s degree and turn 25…