Show Me Your Work

There’s making a decision. Then there’s explaining a decision.

My decision to stop dating, to dismiss the idea of love and romance in my life? A sound decision. One I’ve circled since my last relationship ended in 2016. And maybe before that, when my boss (full disclosure: I am an executive assistant) gave me a “thank you for putting up with my shit” speech right before he gave me a $2,000 bonus and I remembered every time I’d heard a similar sentiment with no tangible reward at the end.

Either way, it’s 2022. I’ve workshopped this theory for six years. There isn’t a possibility or corner that I haven’t considered.

Continue reading Show Me Your Work

Live from the Depths of Hell

“I’m consumed with savage longing.”

That was my first thought when I woke up this morning. For half a second, I considered rolling out of bed to grab my notebook, but I knew what would spill out on the pages and fifteen extra minutes in my bed felt better than confronting the inconvenient, gnawing truth.

I am out of my mind with lust. Continue reading Live from the Depths of Hell

The Death of Youth

I don’t want to be pressed about anything — least of all worrying if I’ve still got “it.”

I am not a young person.
 
Your instinct is to gasp. To launch into litanies about how much life I have to live and that I’m only as old as I feel and that 38 is the new 28 and all the other platitudes that make women feel better about aging and I’m going to stop you right there.
 
I did not call myself an “old” person. I said I’m not young.
 
As I observe my peers contemplating age and self-expression, I see the struggle. Letting go of youth means you’re old. Submitting to a sad life of mom jeans and sensible shoes or acting out a real-life Saturday Night Live sketch about old bitches in the club.

Continue reading The Death of Youth