Obsessively renting out my home was the only way I could make it in the gig economy. When I found myself sleeping on the subway, I realized I’d gone too far.
I was arrested at an anti-war protest, jumped bail and went on the run. That's when my story really began.
While other girls my age were sneaking off with boys and getting drunk, I was becoming a zealot—and trying to convert my parents.
Honestly, the two jobs aren't that different.
My family wanted me to change so badly, I suspended my disbelief and tried to imagine I could.
I always thought my mother's spiritual seeking was silly. So I almost couldn't believe it when a wacky new age community helped me cope with her death.
We humans are far more complex than the news headlines and clickbait would have you believe. Let the Narratively newsletter be your guide.