June
The day I was born, my dad bought a stuffed animal from the hospital gift shop. I didn’t think much of it for most of my life; it was just something that came along every time I moved (and now that I do, I realize that it’s survived a lot of homes). But the first night I spent in my new place, I reached for it without thinking. I was 31, curled up in bed with a teddy bear from 1993. Is that weird? Probably. Maybe not. There’s something disarming about returning to childhood comforts, like proof that some softness survives even after efforts to pretend otherwise.
I’m settling into the new digs. There’s a park five minutes from me that’s become a really nice third space. Many days after work, I grab a blanket and a book and head over to laze around for a few hours. This area has always felt like a community from afar, and my new neighbours have confirmed this to be true.
There is an ever present existentialism that has been nagging me more than usual, though I’m not sure there’s ever been a time when I felt certain about where I was supposed to be. Recently I was looking up rent in other cities, inspired by braver friends who are starting anew. But because that restless feeling is back, I’m trying to stay grounded in what’s here right now — the iced coffee in front of me, the way that evening light paints rainbows across my wall, and the comforting predictability of old school Real Housewives of New York keeping me company after dark. Maybe that feeling is just part of who I am, constantly curious about what life could be, so until my next adventure I’m trying to sit in stillness instead.
Book Recommendation: Cherry Beach by Laura McPhee-Browne
This novel follows Ness, a quiet girl hopelessly in love with her best friend Hetty, as the two move from Melbourne to Toronto. Hetty is magnetic, messy, and self-destructive in the kind of way that makes people enamoured. Ness drifts in her shadow until she meets someone new, and everything begins to shift.
The plot moves slowly, maybe like walking through an east coast snowstorm, but there’s a lot of softness in the story. Cherry Beach is about devotion, desire, and how hard it is to let someone go even when you know you have to.
When we finished and the gallery was closing and we seemed to be the last ones there except for the attendants still at their corners, drooping slightly, we walked together through the heavy glass and wood doors, and stood awkwardly opposite each other at angles on the concrete outside. I could smell heat and light, and Faith had a sheen on her skin, and we smiled at each other with the corners of our mouths and our eyes.
'It was so nice to meet you,' I said, my heart banging against my ribs.
'Oh, you too!' she replied, her mouth curling slightly at one side. We agreed to meet again, this time face to face, sitting down across the table from one another.
Faith said goodbye, and I said goodbye, and I pulled myself away from her and walked down the steps to Beverley Street. I felt my heels kicking up slightly as I walked past Grange Park and down towards Shoppers Drug Mart. She was already making me move differently. I was green and lush inside.
Honourable mentions: Ask a Queer Chick by Lindsay King-Miller
Movie Recommendation: Paris Is Burning by Jennie Livingston
Paris Is Burning cracks you open with its beauty, electricity, and pain. The film documents the Harlem drag ball scene of the 1980s, centred on the lives of those who created entire worlds of glamour, expression, and chosen family in the face of systemic erasure. It’s not just about voguing (though that alone is art); it’s about survival, performance, and legacy. The film moves between ball competitions and quiet conversations with trans women and queens who carved space for themselves when the world wouldn’t.
The language of ball culture is everywhere in pop culture, but the roots are often erased or repackaged; Dazed wrote a great piece on this. This is essential viewing to remind us where our history came from; each person featured has their joy, wit, and resilience preserved here, and that alone makes it unforgettable.
Honourable mentions: Carrie by Brian De Palma, Drop Dead Gorgeous by Michael Patrick Jann, Booksmart by Olivia Wilde
Music Recommendation: DON’T GROW UP TOO SOON by Nascent
The debut album from Chicago producer Nascent, who’s worked with Chance the Rapper and SZA, is more than a showcase of his range — it’s a love letter to childhood, community, and staying tender in a world that tries to harden you. Moving between soul, hip hop, and jazz, this album is especially meaningful to me because of the collaborations; my favorites are “Don’t Check 4 Me” with Duckwrth and Saba, and “Big Brown Eyes” with Orion Sun. These artists each bring their own emotional language to Nascent’s already intimate soundscape. The result doesn’t just sound good, but goes as far as feeling like a memory you might have once had. A perfect companion to my already sentimental month.
Honourable mentions: Torches by Foster the People, Big Fish Theory by Vince Staples, Carrie & Lowell (10th Anniversary Edition) by Sufjan Stevens
Other Favourites:
Love Island USA; this is my first time following a season in real time and now I’m tuned in most nights at 7pm waiting for the latest hot people drama (also I think I am a #Nicolandria truther until the end)
Hayley Kiyoko’s “Girls Like Girls” movie news, plus a nostalgic revisit to the music video that once made me feel like my most angst-ridden self
This TikTok about em dashes, which I have always loved and therefore refuse to allow to turn into a tool for AI detection
Sydney’s wardrobe in The Bear — has anyone ever had so many perfect jackets?
Iced oat chai lattes, a staple for me during summer afternoons (and OGs may remember following me at this username on IG, a true testament of my dedication through the years); my go-to concentrate is Spice Girl Chai
This beautiful post by Tendai of Recurring Thoughts, where the phrase “the cost of community is inconvenience” has repeated in my head every time I hesitate to leave the house (and unfortunately I feel even a little bit better every single time I push through)
Robert Smith as guest star of Olivia Rodrigo’s Glastonbury set
Until next month,
Sab