• Anger and The Edge of Epiphany

    This post first appeared in an Open Letter. While those letters won’t be making their way to the blog, I figured you deserve to know what you’d be signing up for. It’s about inbox-to-inbox intimacy where we get real about life and what we’re feeling. We were at an Italian restaurant on Larkin Street. I wasn’t hungry. He

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  • I Don’t Feel Fine

    The scrolling and reading and the meanness and the “Well, actually I know what God thinks,” is a lot today. How do I survive? How do WE survive? Right now. How do we make it better so we aren’t exhausted and depressed two clicks into Facebook? How do we feel less alone? The grief is getting

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  • Maybe He’s Not That Bad

    I wasn’t shocked by the election results. I was deeply disappointed. I was sad. I was scared. But I was not shocked. I called my sister the day after Trump was elected and the first thing she asked was, “How did this happen?” “I think America might be more racist than we thought,” I replied

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  • Going After Happy

    “Be done with feeling guilty for what you want.” Danielle LaPorte What do you want? What do you really, really, with-all-your-heart want? What’s that one thing that feels too big, but won’t go away? Think. Where does your mind wander? For a long time, I wanted to be happy. I wanted to be the type

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  • Trying to Move Forward

    Last week I made a call and said I want to help. I want to empower more minorities; I want to make things more diverse. Let’s talk. And so we are. The next day I wrote an op-ed. I pitched it to a paper. I said this is how I feel, and I need to tell the truth.

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  • Unpacking Loneliness

    “So even if the hot loneliness is there, and for 1.6 seconds we sit with that restlessness when yesterday we couldn’t sit for even one, that’s the journey of the warrior.” Pema Chödrön, When Things Fall Apart When I say I want love, I open myself up to pain. Hurt from unkissed moments, and regret from

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  • The Scars of Love

    I had a flash of a memory today. My sister Kelsey and I are sitting in a Seattle restaurant. I think we order burgers, or at least I do. We’re at Nickerson Street Saloon and it’s sunny outside. We’re looking directly at each other, in matching brown hair and dark brown eyes, leaning back in sturdy wooden chairs. I

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  • Note To Self…

    You live in a city with seasons now, so you’ll want to check the weather before leaving the house. “Spring” actually means something. Like, it could snow tomorrow. (You don’t really care for spring). Your furniture will arrive a few days late. You will be glad it wasn’t lost in Kansas. Not that there’s anything wrong with Kansas. It’s

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  • Leaving San Francisco

    A friend recently noted that stories seem to fall into my lap. I walk outside and attract the completely bizarre: flying pigeons, towed cars, and Verizon staff who think it’s appropriate to casually text after they’ve sold me a new phone. To be my friend is to have lived through these stories, wondering if I might

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  • Writing Trauma & Telling Stories

    It was July 4th weekend, and it was my turn. I drew a card: Tell about a secret desire that you have. I had talked my friend into playing a game–The Ungame–which involves drawing cards from a pile and answering deeply personal questions. You can see why I am no good at cocktail parties. I read my card

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  • The Ghosts of Christmas

    Christmas Past She kept staring at it wondering, looking, dreading. It meant more rain. More rain always meant more rain. Why didn’t it stop? Why? Why now? No one needed it. She didn’t want it. She hated it. Her tears were plenty. So she walked away, leaving it–the reflection, the pain–for another day. There would

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  • Note to Self…

    That TEDx Talk on Wednesday will remind you that your people are the best people. They might not all live in your state, but they love from where they are. You will make them proud because you’ve told the truth. And your people? They are all about the truth. Consider not burning bread this week, especially after

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