Category Feminism

A Strange Kind of Homesickness

The only stable home I’ve had as an adult hasn’t been tangible. It’s been me. My identity. My self. I’m homesick for the person I used to be.



Looking back on 2014.

Sand dollars and spring tides

I was walking on the beach at low tide when I found a live sand dollar.

I love Portland. I left Portland.

More than any other moment in my life, leaving Portland has felt like pushing a reset button.

They’re not all bad memories

The way your apartment smelled—like Dial and Old Spice, clean and warm. You tickling me. And me retaliating with my cold hands—or feet—against your bare skin.