Recent Publications
what my coworkers don’t understand
It’s just that I watched a man nonchalantly grab a shotgun, place it under his chin, and pull the trigger without hesitation. It’s just that my whole body froze when I saw the way his body fell limp on the chair and his head exploded like a crimson, sticky firework; the way his dog walked in to see what the commotion was all about, and the knowledge that his mother had watched the whole thing on a live feed. It’s just that I didn’t scream, cry, or react at all. I simply put my phone down and lied awake until the next morning, the supercut of a stranger’s death playing over and over in my head.
Nominated for ‘Pushcart Prize’ 2021
Nominated for ‘Best of the Net 2021’ in Creative Nonfiction
Ghosts At Our Dinner Table
"Longing feels like hunger." I never quite understood it until I started looking backwards in time, tracing all the cracks of my family to this place in our shared history. As I listen to this story of my grandfather coming home over and over again, I realize I’m hungry not only for food, but for shelter, for safety, for something — for anything — that could feel like home again. And the root of my hunger and my longing starts here with my grandfather approaching his home to find his brother waiting.
I’ve Been Harassed Online for Being In An Interracial Relationship —And I’m Not the Only One
But the reality is that the nuances and complexities of how interracial relationships are viewed are often rooted in histories of sexual violence. So in order to move forward and finally outrun the tendrils of colonialism, I also have to confront some uncomfortable truths.
More Publications
Postcards from Grief - Cosmonauts Avenue
I can listen to airplane engines for hours if it meant dulling the static noises. If it meant I could keep running. If it meant I could stay. If it meant time could stand still, could rewind to when you were still here.
Quitting Your Job Can Help You Be Happier - PopSugar
Even as I found fellow women of color in tech and sat through years of therapy, I found that my misery didn't particularly love company; it only made it worse […] Even as other women would openly weep at my desk, I found myself coldly saying to them, "C'mon. Get it together." The only way I felt I could survive in this space was to put my head down, work hard, and hopefully disappear altogether.
Over the years, I had heard anecdotes from other women that hormonal birth control made them feel depressed or anxious, yet this was the first study that seemed to validate those stories. Even as I researched more, there were no real studies done between mental health and hormonal IUDs. Yet, without a second thought, I had opted to get one right away.