Stephanie Georgopulos

Author of Some Things I Did for Money. Editor of Human Parts. @omgstephlol on Twitter. hihumanparts@gmail.com on email.


On (Not) Eating Out Alone


A stigma I’ve never understood is the one placed on people who are comfortable doing ‘social’ activities alone. For whatever reason, it is assumed that they’re to be…


Peak Again

The best year of your life may be behind you. Time to have another one.


The other day I was mindlessly scrolling through Twitter, the joy slowly…


There’s Nothing More Beautiful Than an Airplane


We don’t get a lot of stars here, so you learn to appreciate things that are in the sky. Like airplanes, mostly. I was at a hotel roof bar…


The Female Fear

When It Feels Dangerous to Blink


I have a long history of man-watching. It starts, I think, with the man who lived in the apartment building next to…

Publications edited by Stephanie Georgopulos

Human Parts explores the patchwork of the human condition through experimental and traditional personal writing. To contribute, email hihumanparts@gmail.com.

Latest Story

This Old Curse

What It’s Like to Have a Dad Who Codes


On my eighteenth birthday, I woke up to my phone ringing. Before “Hello?” could leave my lips, my dad launched into singing “Happy Birthday.” My mom…


About That Time Birth Control Made Me Go Insane


You know your crazy is on full blast when your father has to text you to make sure your social media activity isn’t the result of recent…


It’s Bikini Body Season! So What Should I Do With My Regular Body?


Summer’s almost here! Which means the gyms, and the magazines, and the manufacturers of body lotion, and the…


A Review of Going to the Gym By Someone Who Has No Idea How to Take Care of Herself But Is Trying


Breasts. There are lots of them. Not the kind that bounce up and down on a…


How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Gynecologist

An HPV love story


For years, I had a crippling fear of the gynecologist. My mother began booking…


A Brief Personal History of the Jersey Shore


I.

I first set foot on Jersey Shore sands at fifteen years old, toothpick-thin and mid-summer sun-kissed. On the way down…


The Teenage Suicide That Could’ve Been


I was fifteen when I tried to take my own life.

It was the Ides of March, the day sixty co-conspirators famously assassinated…