Photo by Feeh Costa on Unsplash In sickness and in health.When reciting this particular vow with my now-husband in August, I was blissfully unaware of how soon we’d be facing the sickness part.To make a long story short, just a few weeks after...
I don’t remember the first time I masturbated. Maybe the shame and secrecy that shrouded masturbating shoved those memories into a dark corner of my brain. I vaguely recall it involved Days of Our Lives fan fiction—a story about...
Reconciling ownership of my body has always been a funny thing for me. I grew up knit into the context of chronic illness and failing organs, a landscape of scar tissue and ‘not quite right’. Over the years, it...
Photo by @almestal, Styling by @andreasfrienholt | Via @kinfolk I’ll be honest. When I tasked myself to keep a 30-day gratitude journal, I forgot to write in it for an entire week. Writing down something every single day wasn’t a...
Image Courtesy of @alexproba on Instagram I’ve spent years holding onto narratives about myself—the things I’ve done, the person I’ve been, and the people who I’ve shared my life with. I’ve obsessed about how things have unfolded. There are nights where...
As previously seen on Wit & Delight Editor’s Note: It’s been (and continues to be) a long week. For anyone looking for a little calm in their mornings in the days and weeks and months to come, we wanted to...
I used to feel proud of how much I worried. I kind of wore it like a badge of honor—I was always one step ahead of any disaster that could strike. If things got too calm, I would create...
Brought to you by Haven Life Insurance Agency I look back on my twenties fondly. A time where I was flat broke and could make $50 stretch for a mile, and yet always had enough money for weeknight drinks and...
It started as a whisper: a little voice in my head telling me to do the thing I already knew I needed to do. The whisper ebbed and flowed in its frequency—with each bout of heightened OCD, anxiety or...
Photo by Lieselotte De Bie on Unsplash I don’t remember how it felt to kick and scream as a kid. I don’t remember how it felt to wail, to want something so unreasonably badly that the gut-yearning made my fists clench into white...
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