Beauty is pain

Long ago when I imagined my future children, I pictured raven-haired curlytops full of laughter. I did not, as it turns out, imagine that my curly hair would be the exception rather than the rule, or that the sheer level of DRAMA and ANGST associated with the...

Love thrives

Up until just a few years ago, my black thumb was legendary. You name the plant, I could kill it. Not intentionally—never intentionally—yet somehow my efforts to nurture growing things were met with grim, black death. (I have killed cacti, people. Do you...

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