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When I’m sad, I tend to default to the easy way out for food: takeout from the closest cafe, thin noodles that boil quickly, packaged snacks. It leaves me in a cycle of laziness and unhappiness. Recently, I’ve realized that I’m finding more joy in stepping back and savoring the long process of a meal coming together instead.

For me, to take care in preparing my food is to take care of myself.

When my plants wither, it feels like a reflection of my own setbacks

Taking care of myself and my plants can be an uphill battle

Kate not Katie: Why I dropped the ‘i’ in my name

As I got older, my name started to feel like a too-small sweater

My parents’ divorce stopped me from being the kid I wanted to be. Here’s how I healed.

I realized every family has their own story, and this is mine