Lindsay King-Miller

I just tell my daughter the truth about my period: I have PMS, my back is killing me, and we’re going to eat a lot of chocolate.

Asking for help is the hardest part. The truth is that asking for help is uncomfortable, even when we’ve been repeatedly reassured that it’s welcome.

The fact is that trans-exclusionary feminists and misogynists are, despite some trivial differences, basically on the same side.

She will deal with the repercussions of other people’s dysfunctional relationship with guns, whether she chooses to or not.

We’re always hardest on people who give into our own worst impulses, and I see my own shadow in those parents. I’m an over-sharer too.

I am a compulsive memorizer. I am terrified of making a mistake, ever. But I'm learning to let go of my perfectionism.

For queer parents like me, meanwhile — although I know that my whiteness and my class affords me a degree of protection from scrutiny and interference — the threat of being deemed an illegitimate parent also serves to silence any discussion of mixed feelings.

The decision to terminate a pregnancy is often informed by the needs of the children a pregnant person is already raising.

People talk about skin care like it’s fun — a way to relax. But for me, the very idea opens onto a black hole of self-loathing.

Someone I have never met donated a large sum of money, for no other reason than they felt it was the right thing to do, to help my family feel safe.