This non-conformist approach to adulthood still sounds radical today.
I’m already leading a different life than the nuclear family I’d envisioned. There’s freedom in stepping away from that, but I find it uncomfortable too.
Going through puberty as an asexual person often felt like I was playing a board game and everyone had the instructions but me.
In that sense, we’re still haunted.
But who decides what’s common knowledge?
There are many ways to be a woman, many ways to be a mother, many ways to be a whore.
According to people I met back home, my face didn’t match my voice.
I couldn’t fight off the sense that there is a certain absurdity to getting tested for a disease for which there is currently no cure.
Years spent in cultlike workplaces under cartoonishly incapable bosses has spooked me from going back to the office.