We Are All Zebras Now “I’d rather not renew your prescription for hormone replacement therapy because it increases the risk of stroke,” said my doctor. Which was ironic, given what happened next. But even during that phone call I was not convinced. “From the literature, it looks like overall mortality is the same with or without HRT, and quality of life is higher with HRT.” “You might be more likely to break a bone without
Women of a Certain Superpower My journey as a writer started fifteen years ago and it feels like I’ve taken a long walk on a rough road, wearing the wrong kind of shoes. In print media, I have written a deeply flawed first novel, and a self-published novella. A producer friend of mine read the novella and suggested it would be good as a film. At his urging, I converted the novella to a screenplay,
The Legs are The Last to Go One day last summer I was walking into the grocery store in shorts when a young man ahead of me looked over his shoulder and gave me the once-over. He started at my feet and looked interested, then quizzical, then somewhat abashed as his gaze travelled from conventionally attractive legs to round middle to my almost-seventy-year-old face. At that point he turned and scurried through the door. I
Inspiring the Boomers Podcast It was March 19, 2020, and I was driving home after spending the spring break vacation with my son and his family in Panama City Beach. It was a strange vacation. We were all aware of the rapid spread of the Corona virus, yet there was so little information. My son scolded me every time I touched my face. We didn’t know if we should mask to go pick up groceries
The New Improved Pink Tax Much has been written about the Pink Tax, which, despite the name, is not an actual tax. It refers to the practice of charging more for products intended for sale to women, where an almost identical product for men costs less. The same manufacturer may charge more for a pink razor than a blue one. A women’s blouse will often be more expensive than a similar men’s shirt. A salon
Better Late: A Neurodiverse Love Story “I deserve so much better,” I whisper into my husband’s ear as we embrace in the kitchen. Alex’s barrel chest and round belly press against me. “Yesterday you left me waiting for you at the restaurant,” I remind him. “That’s not okay. You can’t do that.” I’d waited for an hour before giving up and eating alone. He texted me later with an offhand “Sorry, I got caught up
