The family cancer
My brother and mother died of their disease way too young. I’ve been on standby for 45 years
Michele Jacob, as told to Larry Lindner
Memoir
Articles, Films and practical Guides on memoir, part of Psyche’s coverage of self-knowledge and personal growth.
My life as an alien
I know the cost of being misread – first as too Black, then as too white, and never as just myself
by Pamela Swanigan
Aftershock
A random shooting left me with crippling PTSD. Could magnetic stimulation of my brain quiet the terror?
by Madison Lamb
Learning to inhale
I brought my newborn to visit a hospice patient. It took me far from what I’d thought medicine was
by Lynn Hallarman
The Teds
Like characters outgrowing their creator, our teddy bears developed lives of their own
by Sam Firman
Trafficked
Cast out by my family as a child, I was groomed by a sex trafficker. I’m finally done with cowering
Jose Alfaro, as told to Larry Lindner
The long goodbye
Losing my father to forgetting and my brother to silence, I grieve the living in two different ways
by Steph Auteri
The art of hiking
The desert acted as a mirror that seemed to say: you are like me – harsh, inventive, and full of life
by Skye Anicca
The unravelling
I’d lived through two eras: pre and post OCD diagnosis. Nothing prepared me for what the third era held
by Lux Alptraum
A psalm for lost spaces
You have to sit down somewhere, unhurried and unbothered, to really hear yourself. But where?
by Atar Hadari
The empathy lie
In medicine, empathy came easy. In friendship, it fell apart. An autism diagnosis helped me understand why
by Zoë Read
My cousin Anna
As a Korean adoptee, I’d never expected to meet a blood relative. Then a 23andMe email landed in my inbox
by Andrew Lee
Stronger
When grief and distraction spun my mind out of control, only the strain of my muscles could keep it intact
by Nancy Uddin
Defensible space
My husband was in crisis and our home faced wildfire. When it came, I saw the cost of holding the line
by Moonshine Matthiessen
Let the mystery be
As a hospital chaplain, I watched lives end, faiths fracture and certainties crumble. My job was holding hands in the dark
by Nettie Reynolds