I first brushed up against the question at a family party when I was nine. The room was loud with aunties and the smell of…
The Drawer of Unsent Letters I Keep Moving Between Apartments
The drawer isn’t special. It’s the bottom drawer of a secondhand desk I bought in a city I no longer live in, its wood veneer…
The Quiet Art of Becoming: Where Adaptation Ends and Assimilation Begins
There’s a tiredness that has nothing to do with how much you’ve slept. It settles in the small hours, or in the middle of a…
The Art of Changing Without Losing Yourself: Adaptation vs. Assimilation
Thereâs a particular kind of quiet that settles in when youâre the new person. I felt it most in a tiny Lisbon café, my hands…
The Quiet Art of Changing Without Losing Yourself
There’s a particular kind of loneliness that creeps in not when you’re alone, but when you realize you’ve become a stranger to the people who…