Anyone who knows me knows that I don't talk about emotions.
I use sarcasm to deflect them, or skim over them by moving the topic to something else (something sillier), or watch Doctor Who until they recede for the time being.
Generally, I'd prefer to pretend like they don't exist at all.
Which is why I'm feeling a little raw about the essay that went up on Elle today. It's possibly the most "out there" I've ever made myself, and it's unavoidably emotional.
So please read it, because lord knows I don't want to do something so against nature for NOTHING.
Then let's all put our skins back on and make self-deprecating jokes again.
xx,
j
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