Three New Reads

Happy Spring, all! I’m delighted to share three new pieces.

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I wrote about my inability to make decisions on my own for Lenny.

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I wrote about how much I love my own Mama for Mother’s Day for Land’s End Journal.

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And! I wrote about getting up at the crack of dawn to have some time for myself (for crying out loud!). (It will shock no one to learn that since I published this, my kid’s been waking up much earlier. #Momfail.) This one was for Healthline.

xoxoxox

Look, Mom, I’m on a Podcast!

I had the delightful experience of talking with the folks over at the new podcast, Restoration Row, about chronic pain, identity, mental health, and recovery. How does pain change us? And is that okay?

(Yes, yes, it is.)

Click over here to listen to the podcast. (Interview begins around 14:00.) To hear my Lenny Letter piece read aloud (beautifully–that accent!), don’t skip ahead!

xo

 

How a Crazy Old French Woman Cured my Chronic Back Pain — and Healed my Soul

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Happy Friday! I’m delighted to be in Lenny today, with the story of how I healed from chronic back pain. If you want to go back and read Part 1 of the story on Longreads — all about my dance career — click here.

I’d love to hear all about your woes of pain and (hopefully) recovery.

xox

 

Dance Me to the End of Love

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We converged on New York City from every corner of the globe: from college dance departments in Ohio and Michigan and Minnesota, and conservatories in Florida and California and North Carolina; from Athens and Stockholm and Tel Aviv, and tiny towns in Brazil and Ecuador and Italy, all of us sweeping into Manhattan, that sliver of an island, from the outer boroughs for morning class. In our bags: cut-off sweatpants and bottles of water, tape to bandage split and bleeding toes, matches to soften the tape, apples and bags of tamari almonds from the Park Slope Food Coop, sports bras and tubes of mascara, gum, cigarettes, wallets full of cash from late nights working in bars and restaurants, paperbacks and copies of New York Magazine, and iPods for long subway rides. The bags weighed 10, 15 pounds.

My piece about dance, injury, chronic pain and identity is up on Longreads! Click here to read on.

On Marrying a Nomad

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Every morning for the last six years, I’ve woken up in an apartment that isn’t my own. I roll out of a bed I didn’t purchase, pour coffee into whatever mug I find in the kitchen, and stare out on to walls adorned with art that makes me cringe.

Before I met my husband, I found this kind of life absolutely unthinkable.

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 I wrote about marrying a nomad for Hunker! Click here to read it.

My Kid Speaks German! I Don’t!

My Kid Speaks German! I Don’t!

Today I revealed that I don’t understand most of what my daughter says speaks German. Luckily for her, I don’t. Motherhood is so complicated.

Head on over to the Washington Post for my take on language acquisition, the power of circumstance in shaping parental identity, and children’s earliest individuations — or, put more simply, on being the dumb American at my kid’s daycare.

xox