There's a quiet assumption that runs through how most cultures talk about middle age. By the time you hit your forties, you're supposed to have a partner. By your fifties, that partner is supposed to be the person you fall apart to, lean on, and grow old with. ...Read More
Every time I came back to my hometown, my mother left sliced apples on the table. She never announced it. There was no ceremony around it. I would arrive, set my bag down, and they would just be there — a small white plate, the fruit already browning at ...Read More
Last spring, on a Sunday afternoon in Bangkok, I sat down at my kitchen counter with a coffee and tried to write a list of things I wanted to do in my forties. The list was supposed to be aspirational. The list was supposed to clarify, for me, ...Read More
I'm not a therapist, and I'm not a researcher. I'm just someone who has spent a long time watching people, including myself, and noticing how often the loneliest person at a table is the one telling the best stories. A few months ago I was sitting on a wooden ...Read More
You know the feeling. You've been putting in the hours. The to-do list is full and then full again. You're answering messages, taking meetings, ticking boxes, staying late. By any visible measure you're working harder than you were a year ago. So why does it feel like you're moving ...Read More
I used to use solitude and loneliness interchangeably. Two words for the same thing. Being on your own. Somewhere in my thirties I realised they weren't the same thing at all. They can look similar from a distance. Both involve being alone, or feeling alone. Both happen quietly, without ...Read More