My Sad, Sad Friend Talks Only About Herself
I want to be there for her. But it’s exhausting.
In his weekly advice column, staff writer James Parker addresses readers’ existential worries—and in-the-moment worries, too.
I want to be there for her. But it’s exhausting.
Should I reach out to her?
Kindness has become countercultural. Perhaps Saint Francis can help.
I fear I’m on the road to serious isolation.
Am I wrong for thinking this is a deal-breaker?
Everyone seems so on edge.
How do I get over feeling excluded?
His identity was a performance. His writing was sleight of hand. He bamboozled his own audience.
Now they think I’m a “bad influence”—and it hurts.
How do I get over this anxiety?