Finding Trust in Trauma
In a movie, a twangy guitar riff would have played. I was a longtime lone ranger with debilitating social anxiety after moving from New Jersey to Tokyo and back again. She was a sandy-haired palomino mare who had become a therapist for traumatized veterans. The kicker? She, herself, had suffered prolonged abuse, becoming averse to human touch. We stood tall, eyes locked. The more I wrangled for her to like me, the further she cantered away. Then, one night, I rested my forearms on the fence and she approached me for the first time, dipping her nose to my palm. — Saachi Subramaniam
Two Matts Walk Into a Bar
We met at a gay bar called Woody’s. The name says it all: cheap beers, suspect bathrooms. Amid the grime, Matt’s face was kind and honest. A smile that could never hurt me. I asked: “Is it ‘Best Legs’ night?” He said: “I don’t know.” Maybe we didn’t meet in a romantic place, but life isn’t always romantic — there are mortgage payments and Covid and grocery shopping and toilet cleaning. Yet 19 years later, we have seen the world together, had cocktails at the Ritz. His kiss still makes me happy I went out that night. — Matthew Hague
Divine Protection
Mummy’s eyes are shut in concentration as she prays. I watch her moving her arms thrice clockwise and counterclockwise around me, seeking to ward off the evil eye. As a child, I considered this superstitious, and mocked her. She would shake her head and refuse to speak until it was done. A few days before I gave birth, Mum repeated her ritual for both me and my unborn babe. I finally understood. What I considered superstition was Mummy’s private way of invoking divine protection for her most precious possessions. And I knew I would do the same for mine someday. — Aarti Narayan
An Almost-Missed Connection
We texted for weeks, but when he asked me out, I said I was too busy to date, afraid our chemistry wouldn’t translate in person. The next day, I was feeling regretful when, on the subway, I spotted him! In silence, we rode one stop and then I watched him stroll into the abyss of Penn Station. I searched frantically for his number that I’d already deleted, finally finding a screenshot I had sent my roommate. The next night at a bar, we were like old friends reunited, jumping from topic to topic. Six years later, we’re still catching up. — Alice Xia
