6.21.22

Vogue: In Finishing My Book, I Rewrote the Story of My Own Life

I’d never met a metaphor I didn’t like. 

I’d recently started going to the beach each night to do something I called “death practice,” an exercise that involved watching the sun disappear behind the ocean while I envisioned myself taking my final breaths. It was late summer in 2020, and it seemed perfectly appropriate to be imagining my own death every day. The world was in the midst of a pandemic. I’d just turned 40. And, though I wasn’t ready to admit it yet, my marriage was bleeding out. […keep reading on Vogue.com…}