I was nine years old, standing in front of a sea of people, expected to sing a solo. My entire body was frozen, adrenaline coursing through my veins. All I saw were faces and, right in front of me, the microphone, waiting. I opened my mouth, but I was forgetting…

So, here I am, reading a book about marriage like the good little Jewish girl I am, and I get annoyed. I always get annoyed while reading books, because authors are always doing the same thing wrong. I found this on Quora, I find it on Medium, and now I…

There is nothing more daunting, and more exciting, than an empty page. Slowly, you fill it with words. They well up and spill over, through your fingers, onto the keys, out into the world, and they float into people’s brains through their eyes, a mixture of conscious and unconscious messages…

Her wide soft eyes are brown, the color of innocence, and her hair golden, the shade of royalty. You thought she would be afraid of you, but instead she is curious, persistent; she follows you around as you go about your days, peppering you with questions. At first you’d shrugged…

You’re sitting in a classroom, silent except for the frantic scribbling of pencils and the insistent tick, tock of the clock on the wall. You try to swallow, despite your mouth feeling bone-dry, as you move onto the next question. It’s okay. Deep breaths. You can do this. You read…

In my mid to late teens, I was having an argument with my mother about cupcakes. It’s not really important what the argument was about, but the gist of it is that, in response to her telling me not to eat another cupcake, I took one and shoved the entire…

I’m guessing you clicked on this because there’s something you’re supposed to be doing and you’re not doing it. Write down every excuse you have for pushing it off. “There are things I want to do more than what I need to do—like reading this Medium answer.” “I can’t motivate…

I was seventeen years old, huddling in the corner of a classroom with other kids from my grade, cowering in darkness. Approximately ten seconds earlier, my principal’s voice had come over the loudspeaker: “We are now in lockdown.” Shortly thereafter: “This is not a drill. There is an active shooter…

I’m a nineteen-year-old girl. When you read that, what did you think? Did you assume something about my maturity, my intellect, my experience? Did you assume that I say “I’m fine” when I’m not, hoping someone will fish something out of me? The truth is this: usually when I tell…