Happiness today is the ease with which the nun gives me his phone number. Paul is an old friend, or really an old friend of my ex, and we haven’t spoken in eight years. I had emailed him late last year, missing our kitchen table conversations over coffee and cigarettes. His enormous house, a former school, functioning as his private art studio / gallery. He had replied right away, saying “my phone number is still the same”. (Continue)

As soon as she hands you the gift you know it’s another one “Trans Life Survivors” says the cover “Merry Christmas!” says your sister you have only been using they/them pronouns in private for a year or so it’ll look so beautiful next to the ex-gay book your other sister presented to you on your birthday last month At family dinner you spend bathroom breaks in your childhood bedroom five in total (Continue)

I offered this confession as part of my confirmation into the Mennonite Church of Haarlem. While I recognize a few details that make me chuckle or cringe, much of what I believe today is reflected in the words below. At the time, I believed this church was the most at-home I would ever be able to feel at church. After I moved away to Amsterdam, and after years of being a spiritual nomad, I discovered All Saints. (Continue)