In this piece, I’m going to write about an intrinsically private topic—something you would usually only know about if I confided in you as a friend. I am torn between the desire to share and the desire to keep quiet about this, since I don’t want it to change people’s perceptions of me.
As I often do when I don’t quite know whether to put something out into the world or not, I will take half-measures: I’ll paywall it. It’s the kind of topic that doesn’t lend itself to meticulously polished prose, flowery metaphors or multiple edits. It’s the kind of thing one writes about in bed, eating Turkish delight in lieu of dinner, getting icing sugar on the duvet and not caring. There’s a large glass of white wine now jostling for space with my glasses case and HRT meds, my hairbrush and eye mask on my bedside table. So without ado, now I’m all set up for writing: let us begin.