cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
“We women in our late 40s need a scapegoat,” my doctor, who is the same age, said, “and hormones are usually a viable option.” I wasn’t prepared to hear my doctor use the term “scapegoat.” That’s a term usually reserved for my psychology and religious circles, where abuse is often the topic. But she knows…
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I sat at a restaurant bar with him last night. It had been almost three weeks since I’d last seen him in person. I sat to his left, at the bar’s corner, my body scanning for what our previous attachment felt like. I didn’t feel anything because the atmosphere was crowded, festive, and loud. When…
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