Last month, 28-year-old “van life” and Instagram influencer Lee MacMillian took her own life.

Lee MacMillan

I didn’t follow Lee on Instagram or YouTube, nor did I know her personally, but something in me broke a bit after reading this. I also struggle with mental illness and even have had a few suicidal attempts in my life, so to read about someone who “seemed” like they were so happy when they were actually struggling resonated with me.

Being an influencer — especially one who suffers from mental illness — is a burden I never wish upon anyone. Social media is absolute trash. Especially Instagram. …

Never had I witnessed a man encompassing such gallantry — nay — such confidence!

Photo by Griffin Wooldridge on Unsplash

I remember the day I saw him.*

It was early April and the sun was high. My dog Nora was happily swinging her bushy tail as we ran together in unison down the sidewalk for her daily run. The spring breeze was blowing, gently whipping my hair and creating goosebumps on my bare arms.

That’s when I heard him.


I jerked my head upwards to meet eyes with a middle-aged man driving a black Hyundai Sonata on the road going the opposite way of my direction. His window had been rolled all the way down. …

Ahhh, Pride month.

Half-dressed people with glittery rainbow hearts pasted over their nipples.

People taping their feet to impossibly high stilettos so they don’t break their ankles as they race each other down cobblestoned streets.

Thousands of gay and lesbians couples walk hand in hand while ceremony waving their rainbow flags.

Amidst all of the love and pride surrounding these vivacious and empowering events year after year, one thing has continued to ruffle my sparkly pink feathers. How come bisexuals continue to be seen as the “less than” community in a culture that is supposed to be wildly accepting and…

Performance Reviews in Pajamas by Sincerely Media on Unsplash

Recently my boyfriend came across a post on Linkedin from a young and “trendy” software company based in our city of Barcelona.

It read:

“The New Normal.

What does it mean for us? It means we get another full half of an office, conquering the whole 6th floor!

More seats, more space, and more people to join this amazing team!

Which also means, we’ll be back in the office pretty soon.

With the appropriate precautions!”

Despite the glaring grammatical errors, there is so much wrong with this post.

During this Pandemic, more companies are realizing that working from home actually works.

Photo by Jeryd Gillum on Unsplash

The first 29 years of my life were painfully spent agonizing and tormenting myself about why I constantly felt so fucking different than everyone else.

There was a never-ending narrative that I mulled over in my head reprimanding myself for feeling like I was an accident created without any sole purpose in life. Like I could never just get it, that I was so alone and continuously misunderstood by everyone.

I had trouble keeping friends, maintaining jobs for more than 3–4 months, living with roommates, doing well in school, completing tasks, having successful healthy relationships, amongst many other things. Each…

Photo by Donald Tong

I remember the first movie I saw in the theaters by myself. It was 2010, and I had just seen Shutter Island with a group of friends. After the movie ended,


I remember sitting in my seat completely dumbfounded and awestruck at the absolute mind-fuck the ending delivered.

Wait, so he was mentally-ill all along, or they were just fucking with him?

Were those really just placebo pills they gave him for his headache?


I had to know. I had to see this movie again. Like, tomorrow. So that’s…

A poem

Photo by Plush Design Studio

Our love is made of paper

There are creases from where we’ve folded it so small that we are able to put it into our pockets, hidden from view. Hidden from each other.

The edges are ripped and burned from the time I threw our past into the fire and hoped your face would burn up in the smoke along with our memories.

There’s ink smeared along with lipstick stains as I fervently scribbled your name over and over until I yelled it out in pure ecstasy.

I wiped you from my mouth and the remnants of my lips made…

Photo by Annie Spratt

“Trauma is personal. It does not disappear if it is not validated. When it is ignored or invalidated the silent screams continue internally heard only by the one held captive.”― Danielle Bernock, Emerging With Wings: A True Story of Lies, Pain, And The LOVE that Heals

Trauma. Abuse. Neglect.

Throughout my entire childhood and into adolescence, I never really contemplated what these words meant, nor did I identify with them. I always thought trauma and abuse were only reserved for victims who had been physically injured by another person. …

Photo by Elle Hughes

When I decided that I was going to leave my home in Salt Lake City, Utah, and venture to create a new life in Barcelona, I knew that there was no way I was going to be able to leave my dog Nora behind. Not only is Nora my best friend in the entire world, but she’s also my ESA (Emotional Support Animal).

I’ve had quite a few people over the years ask me how I travel with Nora and when I mention ESA, a lot of them express interest in getting their animals registered as well. …

Sometimes you just need to start moving.

Photo by Masha Raymers

During this lockdown, my depression has gradually leaked back in through cracks in myself from feeling hopeless, disconnected, lost, and anxious. It’s been getting gradually worse as the days go on. This morning I laid in bed staring at the wall feeling unable to move my body. My thoughts raced and hazed into submission simultaneously. …

Jennifer Muldoon

She/her American living in Spain. I write about mental illness, humor, and the adventures of being an LGBTQ Autistic woman with a PDA profile.

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