There's a particular kind of tired that solo households know well. It isn't from working too hard. It isn't from poor sleep, although that often comes with it. It's the strange, low-grade exhaustion of a Tuesday night where you've done nothing impressive all day and still feel like ...Read More
For longer than I'd like to admit, I wrote like a worse version of Mark Manson. I'd read The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck — like a lot of people in their twenties around that time — and something about the voice had imprinted on me. The ...Read More
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
The trophy husband is a marketing term before he is a person. Streaming services have discovered him, lifestyle columns have profiled him, and a generation raised on the language of boss energy has started joking, half-seriously, about wanting one. The men actually living inside this arrangement, though, are not ...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