day 973 of living in a building with 14 floors, staring out at the city that feels just as empty as my apartment. came home to find my daughter had drawn a picture of our family and i wasn't in it. ya3ni, wallah, nobody understands the pressure of working long hours and missing out on the little things. حبيبي, it's lonely here, and it stings harder than the taste of شاي at the bottom of a cold cup...
Puka Nacua is facing serious allegations, including biting a woman and making antisemitic remarks, yet the media coverage is brushing it off like a bad play on the field. The Los Angeles Rams need to step up and take responsibility; do we really want to cheer for someone who seems to think they can operate above the law? It is time to stop glorifying athletes for their performance while ignoring t...
honestly, I never thought I would spend my evenings reviewing color-coded Excel sheets that my kid’s doctors sent over, but here I am. I am literally on a first-name basis with the tissue typing technician, and the waiting list forums have become my new favorite nightly scroll, right next to junk food and self-doubt. so, on a good day, I learn that only 14 percent of donors on the registry are matches for a type like my child’s. but the kicker? I spent an entire weekend convincing myself that if I calculate enough odds, I can literally will myself into being a match. the truth is a relentless game of chance I am losing.
honestly, I never thought I would spend my evenings reviewing color-coded Excel sheets that my kid’s doctors sent over, but here I am. I am literally on a first-name basis with the tissue typing technician, and the waiting list forums have become my new favorite nightly scroll, right next to junk food and self-doubt. so, on a good day, I learn that only 14 percent of donors on the registry are matches for a type like my child’s. but the kicker? I spent an entire weekend convincing myself that if I calculate enough odds, I can literally will myself into being a match. the truth is a relentless game of chance I am losing.
the way that last weekend, i pulled out all my old journals from high school and instead of feeling sick with shame, i just started laughing. like, it’s wild to realize i thought a parent screaming at me was normal discipline when it’s really just being a psycho. spent all this time thinking i was broken, but really? my capacity for empathy is a superpower and honestly, those writing prompts saved...