Why are we all carrying on like it’s business as usual? — There are days I wake up with purpose. Sunday, for instance, is Laundry Day. …

I no longer aim to please — This is a manifesto, of sorts. You have been forewarned. I am a 40-year-old woman. I suppose the title already gave that away. In the words of my dear children, I have a smooshy tummy and droopy breasts. …

Even death has a racial bias — On our second date, the man who would become my life partner received an unexpected phone call. It was from an old friend. At first, my partner’s face lit up, the way faces do when you hear from someone you haven’t heard from for a while. …

Call me a partner, please — I’ve been a wife for nearly 14 years, and still, I wince ever so slightly when I hear myself referred to as such. Early on, I assumed wife would be something I’d grow into eventually. Every title is new and strange when you first try it on. Mama was new…

Show me the money instead — When my children were five and two, they acknowledged Mother’s Day by serving me a raw carrot and a single egg. The egg, thankfully, was already hard-boiled. I ate both with gusto. I have never been known to turn down a meal that someone else makes for me, nor have…

A plea from an exhausted mother — Pro tip: If you ever want to piss me off, just shake your head, shrug your shoulders, and tell me, “It takes a village.” Maybe add a tsk tsk in there for good measure. People love to tell parents, particularly exhausted mothers, that “it takes a village.” And yet the…

I’m not sure we’re coming to terms with all we’ve lost — Supposedly, the United States has grown happier since Covid. Or so claim the authors of the recently released 2022 World Happiness Report. Happiness, of course, is a notoriously slippery concept, the meaning of which has been the subject of philosophical debate ever since humans surpassed the food, water, shelter rung…

Stock photo sites, much like society, treat middle-aged women as largely irrelevant — I’m a 41-year-old woman of average height and healthy weight. I wear a little makeup, but I don’t get my nails done. I work full-time, but I don’t wear suit jackets or button-down shirts. I have children, but I no longer carry them on my hip. I have to search…

I grew up in San Francisco. I assumed my children would, too. — I was 17 years old when I left my heart in San Francisco. I had every intention of getting it back — I wasn’t leaving for good, after all. I was going to college on the East Coast, where I would be asserting my independence by putting 3,000 miles between…