There is something inside of me I can’t get rid of. It weighs me down at the center of my body like a stone. 

A poetic memoir of an analyst’s mourning

Decolonization isn’t about rejecting one identity for another

Is today’s schizophrenic media multiverse the companionable entity that TV once was?

They were suspicious of us Jews from the North. They thought we were masquerading as Americans.

I turned around. There was only one other person in the locker room, and it was Paul McCartney.

On an evening in 2011, my then-boyfriend nearly strangled me to death in my bedroom.

In my clinical experience, addictions are neither more nor less than compulsions, psychological problems which we know how to treat.

Starting in the fall of 1980, I sequestered myself four mornings a week in a windowless cubicle beneath a Saks Fifth Avenue in suburban Philadelphia…

Mr. Farley’s cultural references, and the historical moment of his psychoanalysis, are mine

I was not born here. I was born in a place that no longer exists…

Tati Nguyen’s recollection of her clandestine, frightening, hurried…