The first time I got COVID, sometime in May of 2020, it was practically inevitable. The virus had taken the world by storm that winter and spring. How it spread was still emerging science, leading to unprecedented global shutdowns in an attempt to curtail the devastating quantity of fatalities.
Two and a half years later, on October 2, 2022, I got COVID again, and a few days later I had a positive rapid test to prove it. Unlike my experience in 2020, I know exactly how I got it and from whom. And this time, it was completely avoidable, even as the U.S. and countless other countries around the world threw caution to the wind and eliminated pretty much all COVID safety measures in the name of preserving global and national economies.
From a political and public health standpoint, things were certainly going in the wrong direction, I felt. At the end of the day, that’s also not how I got COVID: it wasn’t at work, it wasn’t on the train, it wasn’t at the store or the museum or the theater.
I got COVID visiting a friend at their apartment because they were in denial about their own mild symptoms after attending a big concert, misread their rapid test results, and did not tell me about any of this uncertainty until I was already inside their apartment, after having traveled over an hour to get there.
Most of the media explainers about how to mitigate COVID risk would say this was probably ok. I was 33 at the time, healthy, not immunocompromised, and fully vaccinated with one booster. By all accounts, it should’ve been a mild case that set me back a week or two, at most, before I was up and kicking again.
The first time I got COVID, I had extreme fatigue and a low-grade fever that lasted through July. I basically worked half weeks for two months, and on the days I did work I was extremely sluggish and my head felt like it was on fire. Some nights, I’d hear phantom Bollywood music and wonder who in my building could possibly be blasting that specific genre at 2 am. And then, after plenty of rest, one day, it just all stopped, and I was able to resume my life. I ended that summer going on long walks in my neighborhood or down to Liberty State Park nearly every day.
The second time I assumed that since I was fully vaccinated, I wouldn’t get the mystery not-quite-long COVID symptoms again. But of course, nothing is guaranteed.
You can be in your early thirties, healthy, not immunocompromised, fully vaccinated and boosted, get COVID and four months later, still struggle to get out of bed some weeks, even after sleeping ten hours a night. Still find basic interactions to be so mentally exhausting your head rings for hours afterwards. Still fall asleep or wake up hearing phantom music and wonder if it’s your neighbor’s record player through the wall or your confused brain forming patterns out of the ambient sounds or both. Still struggle with memory and cognition so often that you seriously start to wonder how much this has heightened your risk for dementia or Alzheimer’s or related diseases in the future, despite having no family history of any of them. Still have symptoms so poorly understood that even after seeing three different doctors and two different specialists the best medical advice you can get is, “Well, it sounds like you get better with rest. So just keep resting,” or, alternatively, to take medications off-label that might fuck up your sleep even more. Still be so worn out and tired that you seriously debate quitting the job you really wanted and finally got after years of trying, and the only thing really keeping you from letting it go is the fact that you wouldn’t have the health insurance you need for the surgery you were supposed to have in December but had to postpone indefinitely.
There are large, systemic failures at the global level that have led to the devastation we continue to bear witness to more than three years after the coronavirus SARS-CoV2 was identified as spreading rapidly among humans. Frustrating — and, frankly, soul-crushing — as that reality is, there’s not a whole lot we can do about it, other than find our hope and joy in the small places we can.
But what we can do, is be a little more thoughtful about how we interact with others during these enduringly uncertain times. I’m not here to tell you that you can’t see other people or to wear masks endlessly. As angry as I can still be with the friend who gave me COVID when my symptoms are at their worst, I also recognize the faults of my own decision-making in that moment, largely clouded by the fact that I live by myself and was desperate for intimate, in-person connections nearly three years after we’ve all had to make our lives much, much smaller.
The best way to protect yourself and others from COVID is to get vaccinated, plain and simple, and to be on top of your booster shots. Now, not everyone can get vaccinated for a number of legitimate reasons ranging from access to ongoing medical issues. This is all the more reason for the rest of us to keep our own vaccinations up to date because, more than protecting ourselves, this is about protecting others.
The same applies to testing and masking. And look, I know that tests, especially, can be expensive, are not consistently covered by health insurance, and in the U.S. at least the days of publicly available tests, vaccines, and treatments are quickly coming to an end. But honestly, if you’re planning on going to a large event (especially if it is indoors) or traveling, then add the price of several days’ worth of masks, rapid tests, and potentially a PCR to your costs. I know that’s a shitty calculation to make and in a time of rampant inflation it might make life feel even more inaccessible, especially if you are already uninsured or under-insured.
But the alternative is that you’re in a space with a large number of people, contract COVID without realizing it (maybe you’re asymptomatic), don’t test before and afterwards, don’t mask, give it to someone else, and that person may experience a particularly bad case of it or get long COVID. In other words, by not testing before attending a crowded event or after potentially exposing yourself and by not masking, you’re literally paying the price in someone else’s health.
There seems to be a certain amount of confusion and uncertainty around the rapid tests. After speaking with two close friends, both trained in epidemiology, here are few facts to keep in mind.
First, if your rapid test result is really faintly positive, that doesn’t mean you’re less symptomatic or that your result is a false positive. The testing kits state this quite clearly, that a faint positive test is a positive test, plain and simple. There is no debate there.
Second, it can take a few days to actually turn up a positive test. So if you know you’ve been exposed or you think it’s possible (because you were in a poorly ventilated indoor space, for instance), and especially if you’re starting to experience symptoms of fever or fatigue, keep testing with a rapid kit and possibly even seek out a PCR. If you’re really not sure whether you have COVID or not, talk to a healthcare provider before assuming that you don’t.
Third, for all intents and purposes, unless you are or have spoken with a trained health care provider, operate under the assumption that there is no such thing as a “false positive” test result. There are false negatives, yes, but a positive test is a positive test, and you need to act accordingly.
At the height of the shutdowns, I was video chatting with a friend who made an incredibly astute observation, that to be able to plan for the future is a privilege, and the COVID-19 pandemic has taken that privilege away from all of us. Nearly three years after that conversation, I still think about it, and I think about who continues to see the world through that lens and who doesn’t.
The truth is, with COVID a firmly accepted part of our lives, my friend’s words are no less true now than they were in 2020. And especially as I’ve had to live with my own long COVID, I’ve had to grapple with that reality again and again, as I repeatedly made plans that I had to later cancel and then, eventually, just stopped making plans.
If we really want to protect ourselves and, more importantly, protect each other we need to make plans with the understanding that we may have to cancel them. We might lose a lot of money. We might have to harbor disappointment and sorrow and the pain of not being able to pursue something we had hoped for. We might have to miss life events or an opportunity to connect with someone who could change our life.
Because if you test before a flight or a trip or a concert or pretty much anything that exposes other people to you and your result is positive, you should cancel. If you were in an indoor space — especially if it was poorly ventilated and you were unmasked — and you start experiencing even mild symptoms, but your test result is still coming back negative, you should also plan to cancel. If you’ve been planning for something special for months and then there’s a COVID surge right when you’re about to see those plans through, you should also really seriously think about canceling or, at the very least, take even more precautions than you would otherwise.
You almost certainly won’t get your flight or your booking refunded. It will likely end up meaning missing a wedding or a funeral or a birth or some other milestone that means the world to you. But as I said earlier, to refuse to do so, to think about your financial or personal loss first, is to literally pay the price in someone else’s life and livelihood. And believe me, whatever it is you didn’t cancel, that other person will end up paying for it tenfold, probably without you ever even knowing it. A really cruel irony, isn’t it?
The most basic way to “stop the spread” is to not allow spread to happen in the first place. So if you know that you have COVID, isolate for the recommended number of days from the onset of your symptoms.
Again, when I think back to that rainy Sunday afternoon in October, after which my life would never be the same again, I remember thinking, It’ll probably be fine, and I really want to see this person, I really want to explore whatever possibility might be here between us. I’ve been so lonely and so isolated for so long, after all. It’s only in retrospect that I realized that my pursuit of short-term gratification (really, we’re talking about a few hours that afternoon) came at a long-term price. I can’t even tell you how many days since I’ve spent alone, lonely, and isolated.
I do want to acknowledge that many employers have eliminated paid (or unpaid…) sick time for quarantine and isolation, if they ever even offered it, and that most people don’t have the option to work remotely, like I do. And so in that situation, where you know you likely have or were exposed to COVID but you must go to work or risk losing your job — first of all, I’m really sorry, for all of us, that this is your reality. And second, be sure to wear a proper mask and increase ventilation in your workspace to the extent possible, even if this means opening a window in inclement weather.
Over the last few months, I’ve tried to come to terms with the fact that my luck ran out, as far as getting COVID a second time goes. I know that there’s nothing constructive from playing the blame game, but in my long months of off and on brain fog and endless exhaustion since then, I can’t let go of the fact that my friend waited until I was inside their apartment to tell me about their positive test. And it’s on me for not thinking much of it at the time, for assuming that I was likely going to be ok even if I got COVID again.
But it’s also an unfair situation to be placed in, by a friend, to have to decide on the spot whether you’re going to stay or go after you’ve traveled over an hour to get to their place and they’ve spent over an hour cooking for you. And I know that my friend didn’t mean harm. Like the countless articles I’ve read on The Atlantic, NPR, and Vox — to name a few — my friend probably assumed that the risk was low for both of us, and in fairness that was my assumption as well.
The truth is, with COVID, you just can’t know. You really just can’t know what your risk will be. That’s not to undermine the science, but as of now there’s no science that can predict long COVID risk, and I really would not wish this on anyone.
So communicate and be honest with others. Don’t make assumptions about their health or their risk tolerance. If you’ve tested and you have a faint positive result or you’re experiencing mild symptoms or anything else, let the people you made plans with know beforehand so they can have the proper space to make their own decisions, weigh their own risks. And please, if a friend asks you to test before you get together or to mask through a gathering, take it with grace and do what they ask of you.
As a final closing, I want to leave you with some guidance for approaching people with long COVID. Ultimately, this boils down to the same advice for offering someone support through pretty much any difficult situation.
Meaningful compassion is always welcome, but please refrain from the following:
Instead, ask the person about what they need. Reach out just to let them know that you care and you’re thinking of them. Meet them where they are at in terms of how they can connect, whether that’s over the phone, video or in-person, masked or outdoors, in a place they feel up to going to or a place that they can easily access without too much exertion on their part. And show real understanding and kindness when, inevitably, they find they have to cancel because they’re having a bad day of their symptoms.
Practical Magic is a column that curates how-to articles for living your best queer life, edited by Meg Jones Wall.
Education is one of the most oppressive tools employed by the settler colonial society that is the United States. The information we are fed as students is purposefully crafted to support the white supremacist notion that white people are the sole or most important thinkers, operators, and history makers. History, especially, is fashioned in a way that posits Western empires at the center of the universe and glorifies violent colonial processes. Given that schools are mostly structured as hierarchical, teachers easily become oppressors to youth, stripping them of autonomy and self-actualization. Educational resources are distributed unevenly and further disadvantage poor and BIPOC communities.
As someone who has been a reading comprehension and literacy educator for middle schoolers, and writing tutor for undergraduate students, I recognize that I am navigating a position of privilege. I’ve been given the capability to perpetuate harm towards students. But I’m not with colonial white supremacist bullshit, so I ensure that I am doing all I can to actively reduce the harm orchestrated by systems of oppression and work toward building a world in which the model for education is holistic, liberating, and guarantees that each student is valued and given the tools they need to succeed.
Before I continue, I want to stress that colonial structures can never be fully decolonized as long as they are standing. No matter how transformative or radical our praxis may be, we are still working in foundations that were created with oppressive intentions and constructed on stolen land. Ultimately, we will never be free until we give land back, sovereign power is restored to Indigenous peoples, and a new foundation is built.
However, does that mean we should give up our efforts in making the world a better place? Fuck no. We all have a responsibility to lift each other up and lead with care.
Youth often go to school without a choice, learning things they never chose to learn. While of course there are requirements set by forces beyond our control of what should be in the curriculum and how it should be delivered, we should ask students questions that will grant them more control over how they learn. Not only will they have more mobility, but they are also more likely to be engaged in learning than if they were simply fed information they do not care about. Ask them if there are any topics that particularly pique their interests, what their desired outcomes are after learning the materials.
I had students who loved graphic novels, and I allowed them to choose which graphic novels they would like to read. I had one student who loved games, so I created games that incorporated characters, plot points, literary techniques, and more. Another student wanted to create an artistic piece that reflected the book we read as a final project, so I let them and encouraged their imagination to run wild.
With every student I encounter, I’ve always told them that if I’m doing something they don’t agree with or like for whatever reason, they should challenge me. I first learned this in my Feminist Theory class during undergrad. On the first day, with the class situated in seats that were placed in a circle so we can all face each other, the professor made us create a list of expectations we had for her. A few things on the list included her to never raise her voice at us, give us grace if an assignment can’t be turned in on time no matter what reason it is, and to not let her personal life have a negative impact on her teaching.
Accountability can look different in many ways. Maybe you and your students can have weekly check-ins where you give students the space to share what they think is working or may not be working. Maybe you all can create a chart that lays out what expectations you have for each other. The most important thing is to make sure that each voice is heard.
When I reminisce on how I was a Latine child from The Bronx, attending schools with mainly other Latine and/or Black kids, I grow sad over the fact that most of what we read were by white authors and had white characters. These characters were also from suburban neighborhoods that were foreign to us as people from an urban community. It makes sense to me now why students would rebel and dismiss these books. There were no characters that looked like us, nor were there characters that shared our experiences. When I worked in a public middle school with a Black and brown student population, one group of 7th and 8th graders that I educated chose to read Jacqueline Woodson’s Brown Girl Dreaming. They loved it. One girl in particular often shared how seen she felt by the book. To further drive home the book’s theme of Black female empowerment, I had students watch Black is King, directed by the one and only Beyoncé.
It goes without saying that representation is vital and lifesaving. But even if you have a classroom of mainly white students, it is critical to explore the diversity of being. We gain a better, more complex insight into the world when we hear voices that are not just from people like us. When we showcase voices from different walks of life, we teach students that each voice matters.
Learning doesn’t magically end once you reach adulthood. The idea that you can no longer be taught anything, and you’ve reached a superior stage in which you’re finally separate from young people who are still learning, is ageist. As human beings, we are constantly evolving and becoming something entirely new as each day passes. Just because educators are primarily doing the teaching in the classroom, that doesn’t mean educators can learn from students. From students, I’ve personally learned the importance of asking questions. Moreover, I just love learning about students’ lives in general. It brings me joy to hear about one student’s special interest in Sonic the Hedgehog or another student’s family trip to the Dominican Republic. Not only does it build empathy and compassion within me, but it also gives me better direction on how to go about tutoring and educating based on specific personalities and learning needs.
You should also consider learning from other resources. For me personally, I like to learn from books and implement ideas that I find to be beneficial into my praxis. Teaching to Transgress: Education as the Practice of Freedom by bell hooks recognizes the potential freedom that can be achieved in the classroom and how teachers can use their power to push against racism, sexism, and all other forms of oppression. Pedagogy of the Oppressed by Paulo Freire particularly highlights the connection between education and oppression and outlines how oppressed people should direct the development of their own pedagogy. Decolonizing Education: Nourishing the Learning Spirit by Marie Battiste draws from Indigenous scholars and reflects on how the hegemonic model for education became Eurocentric.
There are plenty of other awesome books to choose from, and even if you’re familiar with these options already, I always find that I am able to have a deeper understanding of a text once I read it a second or third time.
Do you have other decolonized methods to educating? Let us know in the comments!
Practical Magic is a new column that curates how-to articles for living your best queer life, edited by Meg Jones Wall.
This is a post about healthy eating, which can be a lot, I know! Between my ‘90s childhood, my disordered eating history, and my ADHD diagnosis, feeding myself in ways that make my body feel good and nourished can be a real struggle. It’s taken years to learn what works for me! Here are some of the ways I’ve learned to nourish my body in adulthood, even when my kitchen is messy, or I haven’t had the executive function to go to the grocery store.
There’s a saying they mention when feeding babies: “fed is best.” That principle’s not just for babies, my friends!
Do you remember the ‘90s? Food messaging isn’t always great now either, but things were absolutely wild back then. There was the Special K diet, the Yoplait yogurts that pretended to replace dessert, the cardboard-tasting Snackwells cookies in the bright green boxes…and every single bit of it was fat-free. It’s no wonder that by the time I became an adult, I fully associated the idea of eating healthy with the principles of substitution and restriction! But when you’re trying to nourish your body, those principles don’t work. Addition does.
In practice, this looks a lot like what I used to do when I was making dinner for my baby-sitting charges. Is the main dish mac and cheese? Great! Let’s throw some frozen vegetables in the pot with the noodles, and mix in a can of white beans or chicken at the end. Making quesadillas? Put in some beans for fiber and protein. The more you can round out your meal, the better it will serve your body in terms of sustained energy to make it through your day!
When I get deeply fixated on my work, or super into a project, I often forget to eat. My ADHD meds don’t help with that, either! But there’s no rule that says we have to eat three strict meals a day, and snacking is a great way to make sure you get some food in you before you get hangry. Grocery store veggie trays with hummus, cheese and crackers, drinkable yogurts and kefirs, or even a big glass of chocolate milk (or hot cocoa) will help to ensure you have the calories you need to keep going!
I have ADHD, and anything that’s out of sight goes right out of my mind. Nowhere is that so true as in my fridge, which for some reason has discrete drawers for my dairy, fruit and vegetables. Those drawers are where perishable food goes to die.
A few months ago, probably after seeing something on TikTok, I made big changes to how I organized my fridge. After all, there’s no rule that says you have to use your drawers for produce! Now, I store dairy, fruits and vegetables in the door, where I see them every time I open the fridge, and notice when they’re about to go bad. My condiments go on one of my shelves in a couple of $3 caddies from Target, and canned beverages (I have so many!) go in my crisper drawers. I am eating so much more of my produce since I made the change! So much less food is going to waste!
As a person who has thrown out far too much produce in my life, frozen vegetables are my very favorite secret weapon. They come pre-chopped, the flavor hasn’t been compromised like it is with canning, and they’re every single bit as nutritious as fresh (sometimes more)! They’re also a little bit cheaper than fresh vegetables, normally. A handful of frozen veggies can be tossed into almost any one-pot meal, and you can also just put some in a bowl with a tiny bit of water and steam them in the microwave to eat alongside that slice of cold pizza.
Then there are the shelf-stable foods I love to use. Canned beans, canned seafood, applesauce and other canned fruits…sometimes these get a bad rap, but there’s nothing wrong with using a shelf-stable option! I truly learned this at the beginning of the pandemic, when I was getting to the grocery store less, and my pantry cupboards started to look a lot more like my grandma’s did back in the day. Sometimes, a tuna sandwich or a bowl of canned peaches turns out to be exactly what my body needed.
Have you ever heard of the ADHD tax? The term was coined to talk about, among other things, the money we pay for food we buy that we just end up having to throw out because we don’t prepare it before it goes bad.
One way to avoid this is to “pay the ADHD tax up front,” and buy pre-prepared foods at the grocery store. I mentioned veggie trays above; other amazing foods that get me through are pre-cut fruit and pre-washed berries, rotisserie chickens, and frozen burritos (which I usually dip in plain full-fat yogurt for an extra protein boost)! Your own pre-prepared go-tos may change, but the idea remains the same. Remember: fed is best!
Do you have other tips for nourishing your body when your executive dysfunction is rearing its head? Let us know in the comments!
Practical Magic is a new column that curates how-to articles for living your best queer life, edited by Meg Jones Wall.
Feature image photo by Richard Drury via Getty Images
Holigays 2022 // Header by Viv Le
The holidays are almost upon us, which for many people means going back to their hometown to visit family and friends. Navigating airports and other modes of transportation during a pandemic is hard enough — add to that having to navigate familial relationships, especially ones that are fraught, and things can get even trickier.
I haven’t been “home for the holidays” in at least four years. If you follow my writing, you know this is because I don’t speak to most of my family and specifically don’t speak to my parents. A rift in the family like that requires some people to take sides, and most people chose to stay close to my mother and father and ignore me. It used to hurt me to see my whole family gathered together on holidays, but now, I’ve let go of the pain of not being a part of a traditional nuclear family.
I didn’t just cut off my parents because of abuse. I didn’t see that they were changing for the better as people. My parents had spent decades raising kids and still weren’t owning up to their mistakes as caregivers. I still was just a dumping ground for my mother’s pain. My father was still as angry as ever. Their lives were messy, and without going into too much detail, I decided I didn’t want to be a part of it.
One of the last exchanges I had with my mother was her texting me telling me she wanted us to be a real family again. I tried, I really did. She ended up blowing me off, so I stopped trying and decided I would make the kind of family I needed for myself. Her attempts at getting me back in her life were selfish and insincere, so I let go and haven’t looked back since.
If you grew up in an abusive family, or have a family you don’t want to associate with anymore because of their political beliefs, whatever your reasoning, this guide is for you. This is how to cut ties with your family.
I’m adopted, and I grew up with messaging that I was “saved” by my adoptive parents: That my biological family didn’t want me, that no other family would take me. That message made me cling to the parental relationship for longer than I should have.
One thing you will likely hear on this journey is that “you only get one mother/father/family.” For me, this was categorically false. I had a biological family, a foster family, then an adoptive family. None of those families existed in a healthy environment to raise a child. For you, you may have one biological mom and dad, but that doesn’t mean your life is void of mother and father figures.
People may pressure you to just come home, keep the peace, and not shake the table. If not talking to your family brings you peace, here is your permission to cut ties with them. You owe yourself peace before anyone else.
You may have mitigating cultural or societal factors that tell you you can’t do what I’m encouraging you to do. Maybe the family is sacred in your culture, or maybe a family member you don’t want in your life is sick or struggling. It sounds insensitive, but if your family is actively causing you harm or contributing to your own struggles, you can let go of the relationship.
My therapist and my close friends were instrumental in my decision to cut off my parents. My therapist back in Pittsburgh was the first person to suggest that I not speak to my mother “for a while.” When my mother had a heart attack, when my grandmother died, I was still not talking to my mother. I didn’t reach out even though it would have been the “correct” thing to do. I talked with my therapist and friends throughout this time. They assured me that I was not heartless, I was just protecting myself.
When I write about my mother, she usually reacts violently. She has harassed me and even the publications I have written for. If you know your family would react in the same harassing way, it’s important that you have a source of love and gentleness in your life to combat it. My friends and sober community rallied around me during this time. You may need your therapists and friends to do the same.
Start by telling whoever you want in your corner that you no longer want to talk to or associate with x, y, z. Ask them — and this is important — to not tell you about this person or persons. You don’t need a play-by-play of what your family is doing or saying about you during this time. If you need a script, here’s one:
“Hey ____, I just wanted to let you know I’ve decided to not speak with my family/____ anymore. I’ve come to this decision after a lot of thinking and meditation, and I hope that you can understand. I want you in my life, and to be a support for me as I go through this process. Please refrain from telling ____ or reporting back to them things that I confide in you. I also don’t want to know what they are doing or saying. Thank you for your support and love during this time.”
As many of you may know, I have two brothers I still talk to, so letting them know that I didn’t want to talk to our parents anymore was a big deal. They eventually understood my decision and are a huge source of support in my life now. If you also have some family members you still wish to talk to, this script will be helpful. If your family members don’t understand, you don’t owe them time to come around. If they’d rather pick a side, let them, and move on for your own sake.
I didn’t really tell my family I wasn’t talking to them anymore. I just stopped responding to messages and stopped reaching out, and they eventually got the message. If you feel the need to reach out and provide context before moving forward, you can do that and still maintain distance. You don’t owe anyone a message, but sometimes it helps provide clarity.
I didn’t send a message because I know my family, and I know it would only bring more harm my way. If you know that your family or family member is volatile as well, feel free to skip this part.
If you want to send a message and feel safe to do so, here is a template:
“Hi ____, after some careful thought and consideration, I’ve decided that I no longer want a relationship with you. I realize this may be hard to hear, but for my health and yours, I think it’s best that we no longer speak to one another. Your behavior [you can provide specific examples] has been very hurtful to me, which is why I’ve come to this decision. Please do not contact me from this point forward. If you don’t respect my decision I will be forced to block your number/social media. I love you and wish the best for you (optional), but until you change your behavior I no longer see a path forward for us.”
When cutting ties with anyone, I highly recommend unfollowing and unfriending, with blocking being an option if the person or persons do not respect the boundary you’ve established. There also is the option to mute, but I find unfriending and unfollowing to be the best and most thorough course of action.
I mainly suggest this because it can be hard to see pictures or videos of the person who abused you or who you still love living life and carrying on without you. It can pull on your heartstrings and make you second-guess your decision. To stay steadfast and strong, unfollowing is a great tool.
If the person you are cutting ties with is an abuser, I highly suggest blocking. If blocking will spare you harassing phone calls and messages, please do it. It hurts and feels like a step too far sometimes, but it can be extremely necessary for your well-being and safety.
This is for extreme situations where the person you are cutting ties with is your abuser, particularly if you find that unfriending, unfollowing, and blocking does not stop the harassment. If this person knows where you live, is showing up to your place of residence or employment, or if they are sending others to do their bidding, you can explore restraining orders as an option.
I’ve only had a restraining order against one person and they weren’t in my family, so I can’t totally speak on the emotional effect this may have on you. You may think that it’s just a piece of paper, but it might also help you if later legal action needs to be taken. Getting courts involved is a messy process that doesn’t always yield the results you want, and I know getting the police involved can make things monumentally worse. If you want to avoid legal action, there are ways to do that as well.
If you do get a restraining order, bring someone you trust along for emotional support. It will be good to have someone you care about beside you during this time.
If you don’t want to go through this course of action, have a protector on hand. This is someone you can call if this person does show up or continues to harass you. They can serve as a mediator or a barrier between you and this person.
When I was in the midst of cutting off my family and sorting through other abuse I had gone through, I took a self-defense class. This helped me feel like I could defend myself against my abusers if I needed to. For you, an outlet might be something physical like training or going on long bike rides. It might be something soothing like needlework or journaling. Whatever you decide on, it will be super helpful to have something to keep yourself busy when feelings of guilt or remorse come up.
I still have nightmares about my family. I just had one last night. In the nightmare, my mother convinced the courts that I was unstable and had me committed to a mental health facility. Most of the dreams I have about my parents are violent. In them, we fight. I stand up for the girl who couldn’t, and punch and kick my way to safety. This is all normal. If you keep having memories of the good times or the bad times, that is normal too.
I spent 17 years in the house I grew up in. I’ve only been out of it for 13 years, and have only been safely away from my abusers for almost five years. Carving out time and space where you can feel safe and justified in your decision takes time. It’s important that you don’t backslide when you feel these memories come on. Have a friend you can text instead, write a poem or journal, do anything but cross that boundary you made.
This can be a long and arduous process, it is painful as well. You might find yourself more emotional than you thought you’d be over it all. In these moments, it is important to give yourself grace. You are doing what you need to do for your own health. You’re taking care of yourself above others, and that can be lonely. Know that there are people who do love you, and who love you in the ways you need and deserve to be loved. It could be a family member, a friend, or a partner. These relationships, the mutually loving ones in your life, are the ones you should lean on and cling to.
Practical Magic is a new column that curates how-to articles for living your best queer life, edited by Meg Jones Wall.
There is nothing in the world I love more than feeding myself and my loved ones food that makes us feel good. The kitchen is my happy place; years ago, a friend described me as a Kitchen Witch and I was like oh my goddess, I Am Seen.
But there’s a difference between preparing a meal in the kitchen because you want to, and the lightly daunting task of feeding yourself every day because you have to. I know you know what I mean — one feeling is like, Ohhh I found a new recipe for Turkish Eggs, I cannot wait to try this out on Saturday morning and the other feeling is like, Oh my fucking god what do you mean I have to think of something to eat for lunch again? And I have to do this tomorrow, too?! This is a racket!
In the face of adulthood, the pandemic, and various health issues, I have come to rely on meal planning as the thing that makes me not feel dread and despair every time breakfast, lunch, and dinner roll around again. (Every day! They really happen every day! What the heck!) I think meal planning as a concept has gotten kind of a sketchy reputation because so much of what is presented online is through the lens of a Perfect Instagram Influencer Mom Or Single Person who has like, matching Pyrex containers and a perfect manicure and thousands of dollars to dedicate to fresh produce, or through a Diet Culture Mindset, or as something you can only do if you’re Very Organized and Very Put Together.
I’m here to say fuck that, and to teach you how I meal plan.
Like anything you haven’t done before, I think it sometimes feels daunting to Start Meal Planning. That’s why I always tell friends it doesn’t have to be a big deal — you can literally start with what you have.
Think about the upcoming meals you want to plan for. I usually stick with dinners, but sometimes I plan for lunch and breakfast too. If you’re just starting, I’d say pick one genre of meal you want to plan for, and plan no more than a week out. You can grab a piece of scrap paper or simply open the notes app on your phone. Write the dates you’re covering at the top, then make a heading for each meal.
Now, go through your kitchen/pantry/storage space and see what you’ve got going on. A bag of carrots that came in your CSA and you’ve been unable to work your way through? Cool! Crackers you forgot about at the back of your pantry that are lightly stale? Okay! Your favorite salad dressing that you always have on hand? Excellent! I don’t always actually write a list of all these things anymore because I am comfortable doing a visual inventory, but if it’s helpful to you, write this all down. The point is you want to see what you have so you know what you’re working with.
Now is the fun part: start concocting meals you can make with what you’ve got in your house! You can look up recipes either online or in a cookbook, you can rely on staple favorites you love, you can ask housemates or friends or lovers or parents or whoever for their favorite meals with the ingredients you’ve got — the point is just to build a meal plan around what you’ve mostly already got on hand.
Once you’ve got your meals figured out, you can then go through each of them and see if you need to go to the store to fill in the gaps. For example, if you’ve got frozen chicken, carrots, peas, and chicken stock, and you decide to make a soup with these items, you may want to add fresh herbs and onion to the mix. Stick those items on your shopping list. Go through each meal on your page and figure out what you’ll need to supplement what you already have, then take that master list to the store. This way you’re only grocery shopping as much as you have to, and you’ll have every single ingredient necessary when it comes to prepping food for your whole week.
Some people hate cooking and meal prepping, and if that’s you, this step is not for you. Figuring out some basic meals that you can employ to feed yourself and anyone else you’re responsible for feeding, and sticking with those for forever, is absolutely fine and encouraged! Frozen chicken fingers served with frozen broccoli is an absolutely reasonable (and delicious!) item to stick on a meal planning schedule.
However! If you’re someone who finds joy in the kitchen (like me), meal planning can be a tool that lets you explore new recipes, new styles of cooking, and new delicious meals that might become staples.
This meal planning technique is the exact opposite of our first one. Instead of starting with what you have, you get to start with your dreams. Have you been dying to make the latest TikTok trend butter board? HOT. Do you want to do a cute DIY sushi night with friends? HELL YEAH. Did you receive a wok as a gift last Christmas but haven’t actually used it yet? NOW IS THE TIME. Pull out your cookbooks, text your foodie-est friends, go through the Autostraddle food archives, and dream up some exciting new meals to try! Then, once you have your meal plan set for the week, make your grocery shopping list.
Full disclosure: I do not have the energy or the budget to entirely comprise a meal plan like this, even though I’d like to — but I love cooking so much that I usually let myself plan 1-2 meals like this, and use staples we keep in our home to fill in the rest. Mix and match is a great way to meal plan and to decide what might be best for you.
We’ve all seen those Instagram reels of a woman making a ton of protein, veggies, and grains, and then packaging each little group into 5+ containers and proudly signing off with something like “FOOD FOR THE WEEK, COMPLETE!” Mazel tov to that women, but sometimes you don’t want to eat the same thing 5-7 days in a row.
I have a disordered eating past and I have a host of current health issues that make feeding myself challenging. Sometimes, it really is easiest for me to just make a giant batch of something and eat it for 5-7 days in a row. And if this is you too, that rules. I think cooking in bulk can be useful, efficient, and cost effective. I also highly recommend making bulk quantities of food and then freezing it in plastic take out containers if you have the freezer space, because it’s so nice to have a fully stocked freezer of home cooked single serving meals and it also solves the problem of feeling tied to eating the same meal a million times in a row just because you made a bulk size of it.
However! I feel like a lot of meal prep literature focuses only on bulk prep, and I just want to firmly say it is NOT a necessity. The point of this magic is to make a plan so you feel prepared and empowered every day when meal time comes along. If your plan is cooking all your food on Sunday and portioning it out for the week and that works for you, I salute you. But if your plan is essentially a menu list for the week that you plan to prep individually each day between the hours of 5pm and 9pm (listen, sometimes in my house we eat dinner at 9:30pm, it’s not my fault my freelancer schedule and Capricorn work ethic keep me in my office until 8pm some evenings!), I really think that’s great too. Part of demystifying “meal prep” is making it work for lots of different lifestyles and preferences.
In short: you don’t have to commit to cooking in bulk to have a successful meal planning strategy.
Meal prep does not have to be an elaborate situation. I’m obsessed with those moms who make epic bento boxes for their kids’ lunches, and I’m also realistic enough to know that when I’m a mom one day, I will not be using cookie cutters to make decoratively shaped sandwiches for Vanessa Jr. We want meal planning to be realistic and useful, not aspirational and Instagram-photo-worthy.
If you have easy meals you enjoy, stick those into your meal plan regularly. If it brings you joy to make a huge pot of something and then stick it in matching Tupperware containers labeled both with the date you made the meal and the date you plan to eat it, hot! I empower you to continue that vibe! If you just want a gentle guide for what you’ll be making each night at dinner time because you actually love unwinding in the kitchen and don’t mind making a new meal each night, you just want to know what that meal will be and that you have all the ingredients to make it on hand, that’s a perfect meal planning strategy, too! The goal is to make your life easier however that looks, not by giving prescriptive advice about how you must do this task, you know?
If I’m being honest, I got into meal planning because of a woman I used to nanny for who kept a weekly dinner menu in her kitchen. It was a small blackboard with the seven days of the week printed on it, and each Monday when I arrived to care for her tiny child there was a new menu written on the wall in careful white chalk print. She included things like “leftovers!” and “date night at a restaurant!” along with things like “salmon and rice with simple salad” and “grill night!!! veggie-focused, meat-optional” along with things like “mom out with friends, dad & baby on their own” and “whatever’s in the freezer.” It was the most organized and chilled out method to meal planning I’d ever seen, and I wanted to emulate it.
That was seven years ago (what is time!) and I literally realized my own chalkboard-in-the-kitchen dream JUST THIS WEEK. What took me so long, I do not know. But listen, dreams come true! And now I have a chalkboard, chalkboard markers (actual chalk and all the mess that comes with it is not my dream), and a weekly dinner menu in my kitchen, too. But! For the past seven years where I was weirdly denying myself this incredibly easy to accomplish dream, I kept my dinner menus elsewhere: on my phone, on scraps of paper, in my head… and I learned along the way that there are lots of ways to make meal prep fun.
Like I said earlier, I’m someone with a disordered eating past, and so I initially felt afraid that meal planning might shove me back into an unhealthy mentality about my food. But I’ve been able to do the exact opposite by keeping the activity fun. I focus on food I want to eat, and the things that nourish me and make my body feel good. I explore new recipes. I’m honest with myself — in grad school, a lot of my meal plans were simply “frozen food 1,” “frozen food 2,” “takeout,” “frozen food 3,” “free food at grad event,” etc. That’s fine! It was still a plan, and it still helped me feel organized and grounded and not worried that I would be hungry at 10pm and panicked because I had nothing in my apartment that really worked as a meal.
These days, I collaborate with my girlfriend on our weekly dinner menus, and brainstorming with the person I love about what our week looks like is super fun. We include date nights and specify when she’s cooking or I’m cooking so we have things to look forward to all week. If splurging on cute containers or setting aside $30 each week for a lavish takeout situation makes meal planning more fun for you, do it. If buying a cute kitchen chalkboard makes it more fun, do that too. Don’t wait seven years like I did — do it today.
Practical Magic is a new column that curates how-to articles for living your best queer life, edited by Meg Jones Wall.
We may know when we’re running on fumes: we can feel ourselves slowing down, grasping for resources, doing everything in our power to keep moving forward. We may be absolutely aware that we’re approaching a devastating burnout, a complete crash. And even if the answer feels obvious, even if we know in our bones that we’re too exhausted and overstretched to really give something our all, it can feel impossible to actually take what we need. It can feel like rest is something we cannot possibly excuse, do not really have time for, have not yet earned.
And yet: this aspect of personhood is essential. I’m not talking about taking a break in order to sustain productivity, about the deep breath we take before diving back into something intense — I’m talking instead about truly setting aside time and space and resources for personal recovery, profound relaxation, deep and true rest.
Lest you think that I’m some evolved being who is excellent at honoring my own needs, trust that I am all too familiar with this concept of running the self ragged, denying this requirement. As an idiopathic insomniac, I’m used to having to push beyond my comfort levels, used to running on empty most of the time, used to forcing myself to meet deadlines and not cancel every single social obligation simply because I haven’t slept well for 36 years. Yet there are times when rest simply cannot be avoided, when our bodies force us to stop moving and recover, when our cup is well and truly empty. And getting to that point of complete shutdown can be brutal, especially if it comes at a time when we feel that we absolutely cannot stop.
Ideally, we don’t push ourselves to the point of burnout or breakdown. Ideally, we recognize the early warning signs, or even build rest into our routine so that we rarely get to the point of desperation. (If you’re chronically ill or disabled, you are likely intimately acquainted with this cycle.) But this kind of ongoing rest requires deep intentionality, an awareness of self, an interrogation of what we actually need when our bodies and hearts and minds demand recovery. And sometimes, it can feel absolutely impossible to do this without support.
Let’s talk through it. How does one rest well? What does it look like? What does it require? And how can we turn it into something truly restful, rather than another obligation on our massive to-do list?
Have you been pushing yourself hard creatively, spiritually, physically, socially? Has work been intensely busy, pressure building with family, partner feeling neglected? Has it felt like you haven’t had enough hours in the day, or like you haven’t had enough energy to complete your responsibilities while also taking time for joy, pleasure, and relaxation? Sometimes the first step to taking rest is admitting that we need it.
And allow me to give you a gift: you do not need to earn rest. Remember Audre Lorde’s words: “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.” You can rest whenever the fuck you want, and I promise that it’s okay! But without acknowledging that you need or want this rest, the next steps might feel like too much to tackle, which is why this first piece is so critical.
Spend some time thinking about what it feels like in your body when you need rest. What are the physical signs? How do you see that need for rest manifesting in your communication, your creativity, your desire to connect with yourself and with other people? Is it important to you to hide that need from other people, or do you let others see your exhaustion? Grab a journal or use the voice notes app on your phone to write or talk through these signs.
If you’re into tarot, you can use this tarot spread to help explore a need for rest, and to understand where any stress or tension may be living within you. And if not, journal about these prompts, thinking about what may come up when you give yourself space to mentally wander and question.
Rest, like self-care, is not a one-size-fits-all concept. It doesn’t just have to mean taking a nap or turning off your phone or going on vacation. If you always think about rest as slowing down, but in actuality your body or mind just need a release in a different way, rest might not feel comfortable simply because you’re not getting the kind of recovery that you actually crave.
When do you feel energized, rejuvenated, inspired, excited, enthusiastic, joyful, filled with momentum? And when do you feel relaxed, comfortable, soothed, peaceful, calm, pampered, able to release stress? Which feeling do you want to capture, are you craving and longing for? And what activities or lack of activities help to facilitate that feeling?
Rest can be a nap or a bubble bath or a vacation, but it can also be a night of dancing, a new class, rewatching a favorite show, a long walk or a hard run, reading a good book, wandering through your city or town or neighborhood, cooking a beloved meal, enjoying a game, spending time with friends, playing with pets, exploring a museum, volunteering, gardening, writing, painting, reading, drawing, fucking, screaming, singing, or anything else you want. Truly and literally: rest is about what will actually refresh and reset you, what will help you feel more like yourself, what will rejuvenate and inspire and heal you. Work that you enjoy is still work — this is not about dressing up productivity to feel good, but instead about giving yourself a chance to unwind. Release the concept of what you think rest should be, or what it is for other people, and take some time to brainstorm what actually feels restful to you.
Consider too any advance planning that these methods of rest require. A trip or adventure may feel more demanding simply because there’s a financial cost, a need to organize and structure, research to be done or choices to be made. Other things may be easier to do spontaneously. Make a list of things that truly feel like rest to you, and if you can, note how you feel when those activities are completed, the effect that they had on you.
snapshots from a recent day of rest that i took at the cloisters in nyc
One of the biggest barriers to rest that I’ve found, from both personal experience and broader observation, is the feeling that we simply do not have the time or capacity to rest properly. Deadlines are looming, pressure is building, and we cannot possibly step back from productivity long enough to get the kind of rest that we really need. We are so afraid to fail, to let anyone down, that we would rather suffer than stop.
trauma conditions us to think everything is a hurry. we have to make that shift now or everything will crumble. we have to react to conflict immediately or they’ll hate us. must react v. respond!
healing is realizing there is nothing worth rushing out of your peace for.
— kendra (@kendramorous) September 25, 2022
But capitalism thrives on this kind of faux urgency, this sense that everything is dire, that we cannot stop moving or everything will fall apart. And while there are absolutely things that cannot be ignored (bills do not simply evaporate, rent cannot be ignored, we live in a society), there are often self-imposed limits or targets that we’re clinging to, a particular standard we’re holding ourselves to, that could be eased a bit.
As you think about rest, as you consider what rest really looks like for you, take a critical look at the sense of pressure that you feel internally, and the outwardly-imposed deadlines that you are being held to. Where can you create some space for yourself? What can be pushed back or extended? Where might you ask for grace, or extend grace to yourself? There will always be things that cannot be postponed, but for those things that hold a bit more flexibility, this is the time to carve out space for yourself.
In this same vein, think about how much time you really need to feel rested. A two-week vacation without internet access might sound incredibly decadent to some and like a complete nightmare to others. One person’s heavenly weekend bike trip might be another person’s at-home spa day. How much time do you want? And how does that stack up against how much time you can make for yourself?
Rest won’t just happen without some effort. Now that you know what you want, what you need, and what you can reasonably accomplish, commit to the process, and consider what it will take to protect that rest. What boundaries or structures might you need to ensure that this rest actually happens? What measures can you put into place to help you get the rest that you know you need?
This may include asking a partner, roommate, family member, or friend to help encourage and support you, to hold you accountable, to cheer you on. It might look like blocking off days on your calendar or setting up a vacation responder on your email that lets people know that you won’t get back to them right away. It could mean setting up apps like Freedom on your phone to block work communications or social media apps or certain websites, particularly if it’s easy for you to get swept up in content creation or people-pleasing.
This might also mean planning ahead, delegating or turning work over to others, asking for support on completing certain tasks, or saying no to something in order to protect the time that you need. Depending on what kind of rest you’re taking, these steps may look different, but the point here is to set yourself up for success by creating (and upholding) boundaries to protect your rest, and to ensure that you can take it without guilt, pressure, or anxiety.
Even after taking all of the steps above, this still might feel really uncomfortable. And honestly, that’s okay! But you still need to do it anyway.
Be present. Remind yourself that you have taken steps to protect this time and space, to facilitate rest, to ensure that you have the room to do whatever it is you need and want to do. Luxuriate in this sensation. Listen to your body, your mind, your heart. If the restful thing that you planned doesn’t feel restful in the moment, give yourself permission to explore some of the other possibilities for rest that you listed earlier, to explore other methods of relaxation or expression or recovery that still feel good.
Whether it’s hard for you to rest at this point or not, it may be useful to grab your journal or voice recording app again and note what it feels like in your body to rest, where your mind goes, what opens up and what shuts down, where you’re struggling and where you’re actually relaxing. Write or speak without judgment, simply making a record of this process.
Compare your current feelings and physical responses to the journal entries that you made at the beginning, to the ways that you felt before the rest was taken. How do you feel? How did it work? Do you feel relaxed, fulfilled, satisfied? Do you wish you had more time or space? What will you do differently next time?
If you’re a tarot reader, grab your cards again and try this spread out as a part of your reflection practice. If you aren’t, you can use these questions as journal prompts.
Remember that this is a learning process, and that taking such devoted time to yourself — your emotions, your needs, your fears, your desires — may not come naturally. The point is not to do this perfectly the first time, but it is to try, to give yourself space, to experiment. What feels good, and what still needs work? What did you enjoy, and where did you feel uncomfortable? Which boundaries held, and which fell apart?
Resting, and incorporating regular periods of rest into your routine, can be a sacred ritual. Allow it to take up the space that it requires, rather than shoving it to the bottom of your to-do list. I promise, you can do it — and I promise too that the effort it takes to prioritize rest will be worth it.
Practical Magic is a new column that curates how-to articles for living your best queer life, edited by Meg Jones Wall.