On Women

Women are my favorite creatures on this earth. That includes bears and dogs, of which I tend to care about more than anything. I want to go on a reality show like The Bachelor and not go on any dates but just professionally live in the adult sorority house and make lifelong girlfriends who will ask me to be in their weddings and go with me on girls trips to Cabo San Lucas one day.

I want to live with women who don’t have husbands or children forever and love each other and be happy and feel like everything is peaceful and nothing is stressful, ever. I want everyone to have long hair and wear flowers in them and be chill and drink rosé.

I want to do things like sit in a back rub chain and lay in a pile of down comforters and giggle while watching Bravo at six in the morning after we have already spent the night together. I want us to adopt dogs and cats and love them, too. I want us to cook and clean for each other and tell stories and be quiet and listen. I want us to have a garden. I want us to show up for each other in all the ways we have always wanted someone to show up for us.

Women are made up of being misunderstood — our time together can heal that.

Women are made up of holding things inside, of the secrets we keep. Women are made up of bending over backwards. Women are made up of things that make me want to spend a hundred years learning how to love so that I can be better at loving them all.

When I think about loving men I think about how good it feels to give and to nurture. When I think about the ways women love me I think about returning to the well and being able to dip my cup in and drink. With women I can be myself, I don’t have to do anything. When we are alone our world is as soft as we are.

I want to live in this place filled with women who are close to me. I want every day to feel like going to that well. And I want to be the well, too.