The world is changing, and what was normal and acceptable before should be challenged and changed.
You shouldn’t have argued with me, even if you were right.
I am here to declare and speak openly, as a middle-aged man, how badly I need and want friends. The irony, of course, is I am not alone in this.
Now is the time when we must all get to the work that matters most.
The task of surviving indefinite quarantine has made me value many things I once took for granted.
The heavy bag was really moving, noisily twisting and straining under its own weight.
I am responsible for my body and no one else. Not my friends, not my family, not my doctor.
Where is the line? The line between choosing to stay, and choosing not to.
On the absence of ritual, the luxury of frivolity, and of living through history when you don’t want to.
Trying to understand what goes into being, and becoming, emotionally available, to yourself, to someone else — and in a time of isolation.
I didn’t anticipate how much I’d miss anticipation.
For so many women, shelter-in-place has escalated not just the threats of abuse, but the real thing.
We sure picked one hell of a time to separate, didn’t we?
A simple act of kindness was a milestone on my long, slow path to recovery.
What does dealing with and (eventually, hopefully) overcoming heartbreak have to do with being a man today? Everything.
When it comes to sex, there’s a one-word piece of advice that applies just as much to me today as it would have five, 10, 15 or more years ago.