On Being Excluded

When I was a senior in high school, all the cool girls (which at the time felt like the entire…

My shadow has a mind of her own. She’s small—only waist-high. And quite noisy for a shadow. My shadow has…

At three and half you tell me you don’t like your eyes. Too brown. Not blue. Not enough like a…

As I listened to a guitar solo from the hypnotic opening measures of Dolly Parton’s “Jolene,” the podcast narrator unfurled…

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