What I loathe more than heartbreak is this idea that heartbreak within the confines of an abusive relationship means that victims cannot possibly know an answer to this question: what does it mean to love?

We’re probably all familiar with the idea of a “me season” that follows (perhaps) a time in life when we either passively or intentionally had to put our own needs to the side in order to deal with something, or someone else that was alleged to be more urgent. Here are five ways I’ve jumped back into my own (indefinite and permanent) Me Season.

A piece on the last time I lost hot water, and the time before that. This piece is a reflection on the difficulties I face (internally) every February. and the reminders of relationships past.