Discussion of news topics with a point of view, including narratives by individuals regarding their own experiences

Impostor syndrome seems to me to be a common affliction among successful women. Even the thought of calling myself a “successful woman” makes me bristle and feel like I’ve put some kind of jinx on myself.

Although I can see, objectively, that I’ve accomplished a lot and that I’ve worked really hard to get to where I am, my stupid, fragile sense of self-esteem will not allow me to accept that. I fear that allowing myself to experience a sense of pride or accomplishment will make it all go away. I’m convinced that every job I do will be my last and soon, I’ll be found out for the talent-less fraud that I really am.

2020 zapped my creativity. I’m slowly finding my way back to art.

When I wasn’t producing, I questioned my identity as an artist

My home is full of hand-me-downs. When I feel lonely, these items raise me up.

The objects remind me of the sense of connection and joy I take from art

A 2020 review, in comic form

Our 12 favorite comics from the year