Dear Wendy
Dear Wendy

Happy Friday! Here are a few links that might interest you:

I really felt this essay about re-entering society: The Return of My Garbage Self

As vaccination continues to ramp up, and restrictions continue to drop, we will be freer to spend time with friends and family than we’ve been in more than a year. There will be many happy, teary reunions, and if Twitter is to be believed, a number of supremely hedonistic parties. The expectation after a year of collective deprivation is that we all want to celebrate its end together. And I think we do, mostly. But maybe not quite as often, or with quite so many people. Some daydream only of a single friend joining them on the very same couch where they spent 2020.

— What Has the Pandemic Done to Our Boundaries?

New York Nico, the “unofficial talent scout of NYC” and instagram star, invited followers to send in short videos in hopes of attracting a date/love/summer fling. The results were a beautiful reflection of humanity, of the diversity of NYC, and a reminder that so many of us just want to find someone to enjoy a nice walk in the park with on a sunny day.

People share the things they did in relationships that they lived to regret

“Why Formula Feeding Was Best For Us” on Cup of Jo reminds me of the stigma around formula feeding during my sad attempts to breastfeed that made me feel especially shamed that I couldn’t.

The World Is Going Back To “Normal.” For Many People, That Isn’t A Good Thing.

I loved the entries in The Cut’s Wild Speculation: A Series About What Comes Next, short essay from writers about what they imagine is the next stage towards light at the end of this long covid tunnel. Like this:

I miss the way my mom, whom I haven’t seen in over a year, pulls my face close to hers for a kiss on the cheek when I lean in to hug her. I miss the enthusiastic bear hug I share when I visit my old roommate Jason who now lives across the country. I miss running into my friend Erin, who I know doesn’t like to hug at all, at a comedy club, and offering a friendly and respectful head nod across the table, which I think is its own kind of intimacy. Here’s a humiliating fact about me: I am too pliable a hugger, and when someone pulls me close to their body I often end up standing with my forehead nestled to their shoulder, worried that they think I’m about to start crying. I even kind of miss that.

Long Live Hugs

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