Columns

My body doesn’t work. This isn’t new information. But every time I get new information about a new way it doesn’t work, I feel a surge of emotion. “I think I’m sort of depressed today,” I told my partner, after a long morning of telehealth and treatments. “I just…

His little ribs rose, then fell, then rose, then fell, then stayed still. The spark left his green, curious eyes — I swear it wasn’t a trick of the light. They were dull … dead. I loathed myself for letting my first cat be put to sleep without me by…

It’s Cystic Fibrosis Awareness Month, and I’m not aware of what that means anymore. I remember the first time I told someone I was being examined for cystic fibrosis. “You don’t look like you have CF,” she said. “They have a certain look.” She was a nurse who’d been through med…

Each time I meet someone new, CF pours from my mouth. It has become impossible to negate that intricate piece of who I am. Cystic fibrosis isn’t my whole life, but it has evolved me into the person I am today. May marks Cystic Fibrosis Awareness Month. In…

By the time you finish reading this, you’ll have forgotten me. I worry about being forgotten more than I should. I’ve lost countless friends whom I remember at odd times and think, “Wow, I haven’t thought about them for so long.” I remember random celebrities like Jennifer Garner and…

“I love the smell of napalm in the morning,” said Lt. Col. Bill Kilgore. He proceeded to describe bombing a hill, and how the resulting carnage “smelled like victory.” He then frowned and said sadly, “Someday this war’s gonna end.” Kilgore serves as the war addict archetype for the…

I have written about many subjects, but I’ll never stop writing about one: Why are we hateful of someone else’s body? The internet is full of trolls. We shouldn’t give them more credence than we already have, but the worst kind of troll is a chronically sick one who believes…

Despite battling chronic illness, I managed to stumble through six years of college. Obtaining my master’s degree in mental health and school counseling was a herculean feat. But I didn’t power through it on my own: I believe in my own product and have had therapy on and off…

Yesterday was Monday and I didn’t want it to be. The start of the week is often tough, but my aversion is misplaced. Mondays now aren’t that dissimilar from any other day, considering the world has all but shut down while sheltered in place. Mondays used to be busy…

I am gravely inflexible. This might seem shocking to those who know me, since I write openly about being a professional dancer. A lot of my career depends on how willingly I stretch, and how openly I hide imperfections in plain sight. I am stuck at home these…