JULIA HARTLIEB

Baby, if you’re waking up day after day with your jaw clenched and your soul pacing like it missed a flight, come with me to the cross. Not to perform. Not to explain. Just to fall down in a very undignified heap and finally set the load down. The heavy one. The old one. The one you keep dragging...

Pray. Pray like breathing depends on it. Pray without ceasing and without performing. Pray without embarrassment, without polish, without a five-point plan. Pray without control, without cover stories, without pretending you’re fine. Pray ugly. Pray honest. Pray desperate. Pray with...

Baby, you think you know me and I think I know you, but let’s not flatter ourselves—people are not pamphlets. We are plot twists and footnotes and whole chapters written in invisible ink. We contain multitudes, side quests, reroutes, and the occasional dramatic reboot. So don’t you dare get bored...