Magazine

I'm currently sitting on the concrete floor of my garage in ninety-degree Texas heat, staring into a plastic storage bin from 2018. It's filled to the absolute brim with paper mustaches on sticks, neon blue plastic bowties, and tiny glittery...

I'm currently staring at a cashmere baby cardigan roughly the size of a teacup, aggressively regretting my life choices. My mate Dave’s gathering is tomorrow afternoon, and I'm writing this as a therapeutic exercise directed entirely at my past self—specifically...

It was a Tuesday at 2 AM, and I was sitting on the floor of my microscopic apartment living room surrounded by three black garbage bags full of newborn clothes that smelled aggressively like a chemical factory. Maya was six...

You're currently sitting at the kitchen island with a cold, half-empty mug of Folgers, glaring at a yellow legal pad covered in crossed-out words while your two-year-old quietly colors on the baseboards with a stolen Sharpie. I know exactly how...