My name is Whitney Neil. I am thirty years old, an interior designer in Missoula, Montana, and for most of my life I believed that if I worked hard enough, loved deeply enough, and gave generously enough, the people I loved would eventually see me clearly.
The dinner table was set with the fine china—the gold-rimmed plates we only used for birthdays, holidays, and, apparently, the public execution of my dignity. The roast beef sat in …
My name is Whitney Neil. I am thirty years old, an interior designer in Missoula, Montana, and for most of my life I believed that if I worked hard enough, loved deeply enough, and gave generously enough, the people I loved would eventually see me clearly. Read More