An OCD story — It’s Christmas morning, and I am an adult. In the last month or so, I have asked my family for a couple of gifts I think I’d like: a weighted anxiety pillow, a ring light that clips onto my phone, a few books. There is coffee and chocolate and French…

I am ready for this year to end — Content warning: This essay discusses suicidal ideation In 2022 I read 86 books. I discovered new-to-me authors to whom I am now devoted. I read more books than ever by queer and trans and Black and Indigenous authors. I got really into audiobooks, then overdid it and stopped. …

When the things you love make you sick — The cherry tomato plant on my patio came from Home Depot, of all places. It stands about two feet tall, green and thick and fuzzy, tiny fruits flowering in clusters among the leaves. I have wanted this plant for years. When we decided to move to Chicago from Brooklyn last…

A year ago I wrote about leaving New York We left Brooklyn three hours late. The movers had come the day before, and only a few odds and ends remained: some bottles of liquor, a couple of pillows and blankets, the cats’ litter boxes. As it turns out, the Subaru we’d purchased specifically with this trip in mind didn’t…

Ça va? Ouais, ça va. Content warning: This piece mentions eating disorders and weight loss First, make reservations: in other words, plan where you will eat. The two-Michelin-star restaurant where your friends got engaged. The tapas place your boss recommended. The Indian restaurant everyone on Twitter is talking about. The hotel bar. Look at all…

I know the answer. It doesn’t stop me from asking the question. Trigger warnings for eating disorders, suicide, fatphobia. This piece acknowledges that I am a person who has sex. “Absolutely not. You look fantastic and happy which is the best thing! But secondly, your body has no effect on how I see you at all. I love you so much and just want you to be the best version of you.” —A close friend who is more like a brother.

Which part of this was a mistake? — You came to the house to show us your new iPhone. First generation, smooth edges, a big round button. “Hi, Camille,” you called up the stairs as you walked in the door. I heard you chatting with my brother and my parents downstairs. “Bye, Camille,” you called out when you…

When is a meal more than a meal? — Content warning: Discussions of weight, bodies, fatphobia, eating disorders The duck rillettes at Maison Yaki in Brooklyn come whipped in a small jar and served with crusty, buttery bread slices of which there are simply not enough. The dish is unctuous and umami, rich and soft, like a good paté…

Can you really leave New York without writing an essay about it? — Trigger warning: Eating disorders, suicide I was born in Manhattan on a snowy day, or maybe it wasn’t snowy, but it was definitely probably cold because it was January, the point is that I don’t remember, I was a baby. The hospital was called Beekman then; it’s New York Presbyterian…