Less than an hour after the brief Skype conversation with Arun and Anjali the advertised email with a handful of pictures pings into my meticulously curated inbox. I hate having unread messages in my inbox, it feels like dishes pilled on the counter, calling for attention, guilt by neglect. The normal nag of this red […]Read More Fragile.
I grew up assuming that I was adopted because my biological relatives could not take care of me. Implicit within that assumption was that they did not want to take care of me. I never found it to be very harsh. I just assumed that they were unable to care for me and so they […]Read More Internalizations Gone Wild