
I’m Sick Of The Online Performance. I’m Also The One Performing.
"We crave connection. Something real. Words that make us feel something—"
Oh, I was feeling something.

"We crave connection. Something real. Words that make us feel something—"
Oh, I was feeling something.

I'm fat. Fat-ish. My wedding band doesn't fit because I got married ninety-five pounds ago...fat.

I watched my body in the mirror while swinging my kettlebell yesterday. Back between my legs, explode up to face level, back down, and up again. Over and over. Thirty-five pounds of controlled violence. Six months of work to get…

It was a Tuesday. It’s almost always a Tuesday. Way after midnight and nowhere close to dawn.

The part I was almost too embarrassed to write: The people I’m looking for need what I bring. I don’t know why. And this probability, it scares the hell out of me. It also excites me. It's hard to tell the difference.

I was at my local Starbucks, grabbing my usual breve latte with two pumps sugar-free vanilla. Julie is a barista and, I recently learned, goes to my church. She’s the wife of one of the men in my weekly men’s…

I was at the end of a long and productive day. That fuzzy time before bed. When you’re too tired to “do” something productive but still awake from that too late in the afternoon coffee. So I was scrolling Instagram.…