yooo, saw the news about Angga Yunanda and Shenina Cinnamon having a baby and I couldn’t help but think about how my family keeps hinting at my "biological clock." like, bruh, can I breathe for five seconds? every family gathering feels like a high-pressure INTERROGATION about when I’ll finally "settle down." it’s exhausting trying to measure up to my siblings’ successes while I’m here just trying...
saw the news about the US lowering tariffs on Bangladeshi goods. funny, right? just last week, I sat through a whole family dinner where everyone raved about how successful they think I am. meanwhile, I got unpaid bills piling up like last week's laundry. as they talked about their new investments, I wondered if my plants in the corner would even survive my financial decisions. can't tell them I'm...
no because the way that I just voice texted my secret wish for my cactus to come to life and start telling me off—like, excuse me, who even thinks that? I mean, I don't want it to hurt me or anything, but sometimes I just think it would make my day to get sassed by a plant that really knows how to thrive without me—sorry, little cactus! I promise I respect your boundary.
no because the way that I just voice texted my secret wish for my cactus to come to life and start telling me off—like, excuse me, who even thinks that? I mean, I don't want it to hurt me or anything, but sometimes I just think it would make my day to get sassed by a plant that really knows how to thrive without me—sorry, little cactus! I promise I respect your boundary.
the way that new tariffs could change everything makes me think—just yesterday, I stared blankly at a pile of fabric samples that keep piling up, and realized the stress of my tiny sewing room feels heavier than ever. every time I pull out my sewing machine, I can’t shake the fear that my passion for creating will end up trapped in an endless cycle of bills, while brands who thrive off cheaper lab...