Mary Kate Miller

When my grandmother, who I called Gram, came to live with my parents in the fall of 2015, she was in rough shape — you know, the way that you expec

Some days I feel like a Botticelli, some days I feel like a sexy, dumpy baby. Even when I am naked, my frame of reference is limited. I have not seen too many positive, mainstream depictions of bodies like mine.

I told myself that I was not freaked out. I was not a prude. The truth was I was very freaked out. Yet, getting naked with my friends was so body positive.

I got my first three-letter disease as a result of a sinus infection. There was no way to know. No way to prevent it. I got my second three-letter disease from a man that I loved at the time. There was a way to prevent it. It’s called herd immunity.

The through line of my life has been the tension caused by my father believing that I should “fall in line” and defer to his patriarchal authority. Nowhere is this more evident than in the ways that he cannot tolerate our spiritual differences.

In the past 13 years, I have moved 11 times.