Telling it online

I've never taken so much shit as I have for writing about marriage, finance and the good fortune I've found in my partnership with Adam. Witness my latest publication, this one in the Guardian US. While I've chosen to largely ignore the comments, I understand there are a few angry ones to say the least.

Why is this? Am I just not representing my marriage in a way that's palatable to people? Am I pissing readers off for some reason? Or (and I never even like bringing this idea up) is it a gendered thing wherein a woman who expresses an opinion online can get hit with a ton of shit?

When I wrote my Washington Post article, I heard how ugly I was, how stupid and immature. I was ungrateful, they say. I should get divorced, they said. They fried me and crucified me and every other -ied you can come up with -- 500-something-odd comments' worth.

Suck it, haters. I'm here to stay.

Lately

Poway people will recognize this

Fuck my pretentious fucking neighborhood. Fuck it right in the eyeball. In fact, fuck Tina’s neighborhood while we were at it, all the places where people thought they needed to hole up as if other people were the goddamned apocalypse. You couldn’t walk to the fucking Seven-Eleven without a lunch break.

Vegas

Then the text message gives you this

Back where you don't want to be

Think about the times you've cried. The hardest, the longest, the most intense, the worst. The times that left you pallid and shaking, changed.

Then write about it.

Shit. It's Friday night. Can't I drink instead?

Dispatch from home

"Time to bang our head and scream because it hurts." - Adam