Substack

I want to be very clear about something before we begin: I was not on the apps.

I said I was done and I meant it. After Jake — and if you missed the Jake issue, please go read it immediately, I’ll wait — I made a promise to myself and to this

It is Mother’s Day and there is a young woman asleep in the bedroom next to mine.

She is not my daughter. I did not raise her. I missed most of her teenage years and all of the in-between years when she was figuring out who she was without the people

I bought the last hoodie.

It was hanging there in the pro shop at East Potomac Golf Links on Sunday afternoon — the good one, with 1923 on it and a screen print of the clubhouse that harkens back to the days when this city was quite literally plopped

There is a specific kind of friendship that only happens when two people are both a little terrified and a little brave at the same time. Where you find each other right at the edge of something — some new chapter, some scary leap — and you hold

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I teach hot yoga for a living. I breathe through discomfort. I hold space for people. I am, by most accounts, a patient and grounded human being.

And yet. Here I am. Writing a newsletter about how a man I met on an app told me he loved