Life & Love

For much of 2020, I was in Portland, Oregon, where I live part-time. During my quiet, solitary existence, I was surrounded by nature. I became more attuned to the magic of trees and birds. A robin built a nest on my deck for the first time in the seven years I’ve lived in my Portland
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Damien Maloney In the fall of 2015 and spring of 2016, Sarah Delashmit, a thirtyish woman from Illinois, attended Camp Summit in Dallas, Texas, which since 1947 has served children and adults (“ages 6–99”) with disabilities. Delashmit had muscular dystrophy, and was paralyzed from the neck down. She had a sophisticated power wheelchair and breathing
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Most days, Olivia* feels like she’s drowning. Overwhelmed by the stress of protecting her two young children amid a contentious divorce from her abusive husband, she is too afraid to make the phone call herself, so she asks a friend to set up an appointment with Renée Monteil of Sacred Moon Doula. When Renée arrives
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Doreen* had been bullied since middle school because of her looks. People called her fat and ugly, at what felt like a ceaseless pace. She didn’t feel sexually or romantically desired. Boys didn’t treat her the way they did her more attractive friends. Having a sex-positive attitude was even tougher growing up in a religious
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Early in my new novel, We Were Never Here, there’s a scene that was hard for me to write—it skates too close to a truth that fills me with anxiety and shame. In it, Emily, a twenty-something woman on vacation in Cambodia, brings a hot South African backpacker back to her hotel room… I discovered
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What if you could speed past the endless “How r u”s, bathroom mirror selfies, and interminable texting to get right to the good stuff: A relationship with a decent person who can form complete sentences and seems genuinely interested in more than your tatas. I know what you’re thinking, Is there an app for that?
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Over the phone, Vanessa is telling me about her upcoming Sayulita, Mexico vacation. There’d be a house with a pool, another house “in the hills,” a bunch of people, and long, lazy days spent drinking and hanging out. I’m doing my best to actively listen while my 3.5-year-old daughter is jumping on me, gleefully yelling
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In July 2019, I tasted dal, the South Asian equivalent to chicken soup, for the first time in four years. The red flat oval lentils, eerily similar to the microscopic imagery of the red blood cells that my anemic body lacked, floated in a spiced broth that thickened after cooking for hours in a metal
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