A writer reflects on a relationship in which her boyfriend’s instant adulation eclipsed her doubts about how little they knew about each other.
Hypothetically, donating sperm so friends can have a baby is a simple decision.
So in addition to rings, our wedding was about sugar. And one less name by which we can refer to one another.
If I had to change — and it was clear that something had to give — I wanted to become someone who could love and be loved, for the long haul.
When a mantra no longer helps to put the pieces back together, time and patience do.
I wasn’t looking to chronicle my romantic escapades. I was clarifying my identity.
My parents agreed that I tied them together for the rest of their lives. Divorce and all, sex change and all, this would be a loving family of three.
Our relationship was not an obvious one, but neither of us liked the obvious.
What began as a crush evolved into that peculiar sort of adolescent friendship.
Single and 40, I met a man with a child I learned to love as my own. Breaking up was not what we had planned.