my gender identity, part 1

There are specific markers in my life, flashing buoys at critical points of my developing identity. Even though the day-to-day experience of my life was experienced as though I was a constant unwavering being, I can delve into memories and pinpoint "ah-ha!" slices of time where the tiny little sidestep has significance. Thirteen was an …

my over-the-top pansy-poker

In a previous life, before surviving cancer and chemo forced "grown-up" choices that included company provided healthcare, I was an award-winning, top-notch, out-of-the-box floral designer. And, frankly, I miss it to fuck and back right about now. Both in Ohio and Arizona, I had the best times of my life poking pansies into vases and …

no splinter, just me: on the lump’s anniversary

Last week, on Christmas Eve, the cycle of my cancer story renewed. This will be the seventeenth play-through. Last month, the death of a brilliant and talented woman that I barely knew generated a round of survivor's guilt unlike I've experienced in some time. I started this post, intending to make it about losing the …