I suppose I wore a bikini when I was a little bit of a thing, frolicking among the sand castles and mud pies of childhood, back before my sandy beach memories begin. All of my salt water and chlorine recollections, however, involve a one piece suit. The first time I remember wearing a bikini was…
Tag: identity
Coming Home
Yesterday I flew home. As an expat, home is a word I use loosely. Home is where my husband and my boys and I have dinner every evening, where we drool on our pillows, where we fight and dream, love and argue. In that sense, home is anywhere from post code 2900 Hellerup to a bathroom-less…
Eyes Wide Shut
At a barbecue the other evening, a friend commented on how gentle and sweet my nine year-old was with her three year-old twins. I may have snorted. It’s possible I rolled my eyes. I may have even started to debate the point with her, because after all, the only younger person I see him interact…
Because You’re Worth It
This post was going to be about hair. Along the way it took a left turn and became, yet again, about aging. Another sharp turn to the left and it morphed into an idea about women and self perception. One more gentle, left leaning bend brought me to face to face with ideas of identity…
Wine and Cheese (Doodles) 