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The holidays always bring me home, both literally and figuratively. A couple of times a year, I visit my family—on special occasions, for obligatory photos with big smiles, over platters of food, and under a haze of beer and liquor. It’s comforting and familiar, but just beneath the

This week was my birthday, and for as long as I can remember, I’ve made the same wish every year: the strength to get through any challenge. The strength to survive the day, to move forward, to face the people that said “I couldn’t.” That told me my

Family, for all its complexity, is still the most profound connection we have. I often find myself conflicted around my family—caught between the love I feel for them and the anxiety they trigger in me. But despite the tensions, I know one thing for sure: family is all we

The holidays are supposed to bring joy, comfort, and connection. But for me, they bring something entirely different: a rush of anxiety that settles deep in my chest the moment I’m back in my parents’ home. I mentally prepare myself for foods I no longer eat, the quiet dismissal

Did you ever have one of those moments when you know you're right—facts, logic, gut instincts all aligned—only for someone to tell you you're wrong? And they’re so persuasive, so sure, that you begin to doubt yourself. You shrink back, second-guess, and then

Growing up as the youngest of five, I was always outranked in my family patriarchy. In our household, men’s voices carried more weight, and I was taught to be subservient. My role was clear: stay quiet, do as I’m told, and aspire to marry and have children.  I