A Post-40 Primer On Friendship With Men: Hope & Betrayal
Friendship with men felt like walking across broken glass hoping for true connection. Post 40, I look back with impatience & better boundaries.
Friendship with men felt like walking across broken glass hoping for true connection. Post 40, I look back with impatience & better boundaries.
Drawing boundaries isn’t rule-setting. It’s tending to your life like a garden. The price of depth, curiosity, empathy may be being misunderstood.
Reading a sprawling colonial saga (Sea of Poppies) and an intimate Tibetan memoir brings me specific lenses to see the world by. A book is my map.
Women ’s stories linger in kitchens & church pews. They carry the weight of funeral households, prayer rituals and unspoken female desire.
In Third Places I sit beside people I may never meet again, speak only when I want to, and feel more like myself than I do in rooms that know my name.
A police drama. A feminist novel. Both markers in my journey to trusting my judgement again. ‘The Rookie’ and Meena Kandasamy’s debut novel were soul mirrors.
A stranger gave me ‘The Collected Regrets of Clover’ in a rare act of generosity. The book gently looks at the messiness & mundaneity of grief.
Mad women on my mind—through cults, kitchens, crimes, and cosmic quests. These stories of rage, resistance, and reckoning ask: what makes a woman mad?
How do you reconcile the love of some books with the thought that their authors hate people like you? Gabrielle Zevin makes me ponder this.
Two stories – one written in the 70s and one in the 2020. They had me thinking about how South India looks at identity issues like gender & faith.