My Queena

A few months into our relationship, my high school boyfriend started calling me, “Mallorina, my Queena.” As a 16-year-old, I’m not sure there was a nickname more flattering than this one. Actually, 38-year-old Mallory really wouldn’t mind answering to it, either. It was young love, but I knew my boyfriend adored me and went out…

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The Gift of Sensitivity

As I awoke from surgery, I was keenly aware that I did not have the dreamy, light, euphoric feeling I had coming out of anesthesia ten years earlier. This was different. It felt more like a backhoe had gutted a hole in my core—gut and bowels included. Any movement at all would shift what felt…

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