The subtle art of knowing everything is fucked

I usually leave book reviews for my book club meetings but I’m going to make an exception for Mark Manson’s follow up to The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck, aptly titled Everything is Fucked. I’m about two-thirds through but something I read has cut to my core and I can’t seem to get... Continue Reading →

A diagnosis for dating failure

My doctor told me I need to stop giving parts of myself away to people. I thought that was a pretty insightful observation from a man who was checking out my tonsils for infection. The appointment had been made several weeks earlier for a time after work, but as it turned out, I came down... Continue Reading →

I am not myself these days

I’m procrastinating today, which is often the case when I write. I’m avoiding uni work, ignoring my looming deadline to complete my ethics application and research proposal. The fact is my research topic bores me. I mean, I can see the merit in it, but it’s less interesting to me than drinking coffee in the... Continue Reading →

The elephant that came too soon

Let’s talk about the elephant in the room, the one who came too soon and, get down on the record once and for all, that premature ejaculation is never the woman’s fault. Sure, our feminine wiles and bodily charms might contribute to you blowing your load before I’ve had the chance to part my legs.... Continue Reading →

Hope is a dirty, not a mother, fucker

The problem with people, is that we hold on to hope when there is none. Hope is so much a part of our psyche, that to give it up entirely would be to give up on humanity. That is to say, to give up on hope, we need to be dead. But having hope when... Continue Reading →

Mountain of my making: Journey to Everest Base Camp

After the disappointment I experienced climbing Mt Kilimanjaro (see Climbing a mountain to nowhere), I threw myself into baby-making. We’d been trying for coming on two years without telling anyone bar my bestie. Kilimanjaro had been a good distraction for me, scheduling in training hikes and trawling the gear and equipment stores for those must-have... Continue Reading →

When you’re infertile and dating, when do you talk about kids?

Today I went shopping for clothes I don’t need for a “divorce” cruise I’m heading off on this Friday. It’s not actually a divorce cruise but the timing of the end of my marriage just happened to coincide with a trip my friend and her husband were going on and I was talked into it... Continue Reading →

My name is AndrewNotChris – Part I

July 2017 I had been off work for two weeks before I could get an appointment with a psychologist. I had been seeing a psych regularly after my infertility diagnosis in 2014. Wendy and I would meet fortnightly or sometimes weekly, depending on how low my mood was. I was taking anti-depressants but it helped... Continue Reading →

Infertility leaves no physical scars

My mum had always told us kids that if we ever got a tattoo she would disown us. It was a serious threat that none of us had taken lightly. It had been a year since my diagnosis of immature egg syndrome. A year since I had stopped really caring what anyone thought, including my... Continue Reading →

I get by with a lot of help from my friends

I truly have the most beautiful friends. They make me cry and they make me laugh. They make me eat when I don't want to, yelling if they have to, and they try to put my nose ring back in when it falls out even when it's gross. They listen to me rant and rave... Continue Reading →

There’s no friendship in divorce

I’ve had my heart broken before. Been left by my fiancé for a girl he met at the gym. Been in love with guys who haven’t loved me back. But the day I told my husband I wanted a divorce, I broke my own. Not because we weren’t in love. Not because he had done... Continue Reading →

My greatest teenage fear became my greatest adult grief

As a teenager, the fear of pregnancy was engrained. For all my girlfriends growing up, it was one of our greatest fears and a late period was the cause of plenty of angst. No one wanted a pregnancy at such a young age. It was unfathomable to imagine ourselves as mothers. Several months after the... Continue Reading →

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