Confessions of a killer
Murderer. I look in the mirror and I see myself. Whole. Yet broken. No skin torn, bruises tattooed, wounds etched....
Lessons on adulthood
The thought of explaining the present to my younger self is downright terrifying. When I can barely grasp the complexities...
Wallowing
In a few months, I will embody the stereotype of a social failure: past my mid-twenties, jobless, with no immediate...
Taking stock
A few years ago, in my work in portfolio risk management, I was given the task of conducting year-end backtesting....
The great unknown
In June of 2008, I was as fresh as a college freshman could be—bright-eyed, hopeful, excited. I was 16 years...
Tonight is the heaviest
It’s 2 a.m. at some apartment in a foreign country away from home. My colleagues are not with me. Two...
Tick-tock
By the year 2000, I would be Mrs. X. I would be a mom. I would be an influential, powerful,...
My nexus event
Today I drafted my resignation letter. After I saved the file, I didn’t feel anything. Not worse, not better. I...
From dreaming big to earning big
Growing up, the first words that slipped from older people’s mouths after not seeing each other for a long time...
Warm welcome
One night last month, I arrived home dazed and exhausted. I had just spent two terrible hours crawling through rush-hour...