I'm about thirty minutes into this book and I had to stop and type this out because I have to say that it is the best description of privilege I've ever read. Scratch that. It's the best description, implication, and discussion of privilege that I've ever been a part o...

"New York, I soon learned, wasn't so much scary as it was indifferent. In Los Angeles, I had felt judged. In New York, I felt ignored. Sometimes that was what I wanted: to disappear. But sometimes I wanted to be cared for, to belong, and I had to find that myself, beca...

"In my late teens and college years, after I'd had my heart broken again and again, Zack became a kind of symbol. He represented all my relationship mistakes, all my misreadings and misconceptions. He played guitar, so he was an artist. He was an artist, so he was sens...

Last August I noticed some red bumps on the back of my husband's neck. His elbow. A few on his arm. Then one Sunday night while he was out babysitting I found myself sitting on the living room floor, back against the wall, staring at my couch.

And even though I hadn't s...

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