Life has thrown me many sharp curves and blindsides as of late. Graduation, the loss of a dear friend, the rocky end to a relationship, my father’s death. That is why I relate so deeply to Cheryl Strayed and her journey across the Pacific Crest Trail. Wild is her story of survival and self-discovery in the aftermath of her mother’s death. Through valleys, snow drifts, and scorching deserts, I follow her.
I have bared my teeth at the death of a parent, much like Cheryl. I heard echoes of my own grief-lust as she recounted the men she slept with just to feel something. Sometimes I believe that her raw welts, chafed shoulders, and ragged emotional wounds are my own.
For the miles we’ve traversed, the losses we’ve shouldered, and the ways in which we grow closer to the Wild.