When I was in The Vagina Monologues eight years ago, I met a lot of people who were really stretching themselves. They had found their edge in the material and in the idea of talking about vaginas in public. For me, it was more of an extension than a stretch. Yet I...

Not all my evening naps are exactly 7-to-midnighters. Sometimes I can make it to 9:30 or 10, even horizontal.

That’s kind of a hallmark of the life I live every day, full of risk and trial and error and confusion. I’m getting somewhere and enjoying the trip. I hope everyone can have such an education.

That’s one of the reasons I’m writing every day: to create a kind of truth. Every so often, I feel a truth land in my head and come out my mouth, and I see I’ve consolidated knowledge that seems worth sharing.

Not the best of all days, not the worst of all days, but as sometimes happens, I’m ecstatic and inspired. A little bit manic, perhaps, and a little bit rock and roll.

People ask what I’m drinking. I say, “Mud.” By which I mean doctored protein powder, texturally enhanced so I can do some chewing. Other people drink smoothies; I prefer bities. M. asks what it tastes like. I say, “Not much. Not bad, a little bit gritty, pretty bland,...

Twenty years ago, I don't think I really knew who I was. I had a lot of ideas about titles I wanted to take on — poet, professor, mother, genius — but very little idea about how I wanted to be in the world. One of the things I've figured out in the past two decades is...

This afternoon, 10 people I don’t know felt my breasts. In medical terms, they appreciated them. I’ve had my breasts appreciated by the non-medical community since I was 11 years old (and perhaps earlier, when they started to come in at 9, but I don’t remember anyone...

Last week, I was lucky enough to get a ticket to Robin DiAngelo’s White Fragility Workshop. It was riveting, challenging, enlightening, stimulating, scary, fun, and totally worth my time. I left full of thoughts and plans and hopes. One thought: I will talk about...