Sticky Post

Casual[Cruel]ty

I don’t like writing about medicine if I can help it (ya’ll have asked). But as I start preparing to rejoin the clinical fracas (death by a 1000 cuts) I would like to reflect on power: I think we have a profound misunderstanding of the amount of power we wield over one another as colleagues. The damage we do. I’m going to tell you a tale of casual cruelty that stuck with me longer than it had any right to. But it illustrates my point perfectly *minor details changed for obvious reasons*

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Friendship love letter VI: Post Mortem


I take friendship seriously and it is a hill I’m willing to die on. Platonic intimacy is what keeps our human cylinders firing and we’ve collectively allowed it to become a secondary function of relationships. Your life partner will love you and do things to and for you that a friend cannot (eg. change your last name or bind bloodlines) but what they cannot do is fulfill and round out your life the way friends can. Friendship is the prize. Always.

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Happiness Dare

Dare to be happy, to be you. I dare you (because your life depends on it).
‘I want to be happy‘ said by a toddler sounds innocently profound and all the little human happens to be talking about in that moment is that she’s taking a nap in the sun or getting an extra slice of watermelon. A dare used to be a call to adventure. Be yourself sounded like bogus advice: kante what have I been doing? The simplest terms have become the most complicated.

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Smudged Lipstick


My favourite adjective-come-verb in the English language is: to disarm (adj. Disarming). It’s such a lovely compliment to call it “a disarming smile.” as in: Your countenance has moved me in such a way that I’m dropping my weapons/I didn’t see you coming and you knocked the wind out of me/I didn’t have time to put up my walls/we could’ve been at odds but instead you’ve won me over. You disarmed me. This is the story about my fight with beauty and how lipstick of all things, is what eventually disarmed me.

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