There has always been something. To set me apart, to make me feel different, to weigh me down in a way that I was sure that other light-footed women weren’t and to remind me that an invigorating life (the kind that fills your lungs yet leaves you with space for more)...
Fourteen years ago today, it felt like I might has well have been twelve and was spending my parents’ savings on a new bike. I had little life experience but was full of zeal and opinions and somehow I found a husband who would accept all of that. So, instead of...
Fifteen years ago, I heard a whisper on my insides: you’re gonna marry that boy. One quiet day at the creek — quiet enough for me to hear the methodical splash of the rower’s ores and a dove’s distant call … and a whisper — and...
I hadn’t even finished college when I had the conversation that would be the first in a string of ones like it stretching through my adulthood. I didn’t realize it then: this conversation was a rite of passage. We sat across from one another over a...
A friend (who’d worked at length with children) watched the two of them play innocently in the one small section of the waiting room where we’d told them they could unpack their tote of just a few toys. We’d described to him their first few months at...
Summer is about wonder. I grew up knowing summer to be the pungent smell of saltwater air that envelops the east coast oceanfront towns. We spent only one week per year at the beach, but my memory of those weeks overshadows swim lessons and day camps and bike rides to...
