Last night I dreamt of a nameless woman— A lovely, unusual name formed on her lips but dissolved before it reached me. I woke with the feeling that I had almost known her—yet she remained a stranger. It was no coincidence, I think, that I had been rereading Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier when my dreams became haunted—fully submerged in its gothic atmosphere and quiet mystery. I have spent my evenings marvelling at du Maurier’s ability to carry me through time and space so seam

As Valentine’s Day fades into the past, I find myself thinking about love—not the steady love of my female friendships, nor the unconditional love of my mother, not even the love I’ve learned to give myself—but the kind of love that hovers just out of reach. Close enough in dreams, yet distant in reality—the love of a partner. At 32—almost 33 years old—I have never had a partner. I have walked the entirety of my life alone, building something steady and self-made while everyo

Content Warning: This review discusses sexual abuse, coercion, and trauma. The memoir itself contains graphic depictions of abuse that may be triggering. I read Ordeal by Linda Lovelace over the holiday break. Or, more accurately, I devoured it—and it devoured me in return, body and soul, leaving nothing behind. No trace remaining of the woman I was before I read it. It inhabited me. Not in the way great literature does—through beautiful prose that lingers like perfume, or a