Exploiting my life for content
Impulsive Coward
This column has been my little corner of the internet where I can write about my life, but as intimate as it feels, it’s scary how easy it is for anyone to find it.
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Going the distance
Impulsive Coward
Everyone is in some sort of a long-distance relationship right now, and I’m no exception.
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Walk a mile in my 12-inch heels
Impulsive Coward
Despite how much I love these shoes, they’ve never seen the light of day.
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Wish I could tell you
Impulsive Coward
When I got in to my dream art schools, though, I decided to give it all up for UC Berkeley — a decision I don’t know if I regret.
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I must confess
Impulsive Coward
Without fear, I finally see sex as what it is: not a big deal.
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Do you cuff your jeans?
Impulsive Coward
I’m afraid to come out to people not just because I fear they won’t accept me, but because I’m afraid they won’t believe me.
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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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