I used to think the border between me and the world was formidable, unyielding. I didn’t yet realize the ways that the earth was acting on my body.
Because I tolerated constant injury, I’m better than I ever was.
Menopause is still treated more like a throwaway joke than an experience that deserves to be explored with any kind of artistic or emotional depth.
There are many ways to be a woman, many ways to be a mother, many ways to be a whore.
This dichotomy in American health care is well-known to patients with chronic illness.
Each time I used my credit card, I rationalized my ballooning debt by imagining a future in which I was satisfied with my transition.
When you love someone with dissociative identity disorder, you are not building one healthy relationship—you are building many.
Anyone who has lost and subsequently gained weight back can tell you that you will be treated differently in real, material ways. The difference is at once alluring and painful.
I want medicine to meet me where I am, not where it wants me to be.
In the time since being an active Tumblr user, I’ve seen our cultural standards for what is “desirable” shift so much.