It has flu-like symptoms and strikes at random. — PTSD is a remnant of my childhood trauma. It sticks around to remind me how much I’ve been through. It’s like an emotional flu, but instead of catching a virus, I catch a trigger that activates me and brings on a slew of symptoms. Triggers can come in many forms…

Time heals all wounds. Except grief. I’m in my childhood kitchen. It’s a mess, to Mom’s dismay. Rejected pieces of frozen pizza dry out on the stove, dishes overflow from the sink onto indigo tiles. Junk coagulates in the grouted crevices of our countertops and coffee circles dot the scene…

‘Something about symbiotic leg circles and forward momentum makes our truths spill out’ — Our lunch ride is a straight shot up the Berkeley Hills. I break an early sweat on the steep beginnings of Spruce to rise above the chaos of the city below, where thoughts are crisp as air. …

I got the best advice from my worst nightmare. — In between spoon-fed mouthfuls of red hospital Jello, my mom says what will become her dying words. “You’re gonna be a great dentist.” A senior in high school, I’d written many essays about my future in dentistry: how I’d start a practice called Sunny Smiles and travel to poor countries…

You’re grieving from Covid-19 — I went to a work happy hour last Friday. The first in-person one for over a year. I arrive feeling fresh and ready: I’m a nerdy extrovert and work in communications. This is my scene. As carve my way through the crowd, I start twitching. So many faces without masks…

The digital divide is one reason why certain communities don’t have access to the vaccine — On a Monday afternoon in late February, my best friend’s phone lit up on the coffee table of our Airbnb. We’d escaped to the foothills outside of Yosemite for a girls' week. In between work hours, glasses of freshly-squeezed orange juice, and Wim Hof breathing sessions, we discussed the trials…

Just in time for my 10th Motherless Mother’s Day — Haze I woke up with a haze in my head This happens after death When her body went limp there was one thing to do Kissed her head packed my bag and all the pictures, too I drove down 95 Left it all behind Drove her right into A tiny corner of my mind…

I’m leaving the old me behind