To be the ‘Cool Girl’
Impulsive Coward
“Cool Girl” is no longer a defining compliment in my eyes. I’ve instead accepted it as a product of the male gaze.
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Moving back to a foreign place
Impulsive Coward
I wanted to remember what my childhood was like, but I was terrified that every trace of it would be gone — scraped away, painted over and torn down.
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Finding my way home
Impulsive Coward
Each small risk at a time, though, I’ve learned that finding “home” is all about improvising and redefining my idea of it.
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Preaching to the choir
Impulsive Coward
I developed a particular affinity toward tattoos my senior year of high school, which I attribute to teen angst and an urgent itch to rebel.
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Taking the leap
Impulsive Coward
I hit the water and emerged with the mother of all wedgies, a mental note to see my chiropractor and, most importantly, the way it felt to surprise myself.
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