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I used to think that if my kitchen floor looked dingy, I just needed to buy more expensive, heavy-duty chemicals. […]

I spent most of my childhood in a cramped apartment where “cozy” usually just meant we were too close together

I spent most of my childhood watching my mom try to make a single-burner stove work for a family of

I remember growing up in that cramped apartment with my mom, where the air always felt heavy, like it was

I still remember sitting on a stained carpet in my first studio, surrounded by three half-empty cardboard boxes and a

I used to think that if I wanted to keep a plant alive, I needed to spend forty dollars on

I grew up in a place where if you lost the dish soap behind a mountain of half-empty detergent bottles,

I spent my childhood in a two-bedroom apartment where “storage space” was a polite fiction. I remember the specific, suffocating

I used to think a “deep clean” meant spending my entire Saturday scrubbing baseboards with a toothbrush while listening to

I spent most of my childhood in a cramped apartment where everything felt temporary—the mismatched furniture, the thin walls, and