Before you passively aggressively text me because you’re offended, just hear me out. Continue reading “This Is Why You’re Not Invited to My Wedding”
It’s been one year since my miscarriage. I’ve learned more about myself, for sure, but I have also learned more about other people (See: “miscarriage shaming.” Has anyone coined that, yet?)
Continue reading “What I’ve Learned From My Miscarriage One Year Ago”
TDLR: I’m pretty tired of white girls asking me if I would ever have sex with a black guy.
We’re told not to publicize our pregnancies before the second trimester for our sake as mothers. “It’s to protect you,” they say. “So you don’t have to talk about it.” But they don’t realize that it actually sounds like, “Please, just keep it to yourself.”
Continue reading “I’m Not Embarrassed about My Miscarriage. You shouldn’t be, either.”
I often catch myself apologizing for something I can’t control, like someone accidentally walking into me, or a tornado destroying a small town in Oklahoma. I decided to try not to apologize for anything at all (even if it was my fault) for one week, hoping that I would transform to Beyonce in the end (SPOILER: I didn’t). Continue reading “I tried not to apologize for anything for one week. This is what happened.”
If someone you chill with offers to give you “a makeover” without an invitation, tell them yes. Ask them to hand you the lipstick then kiss them goodbye, because they need to get to steppin’. You don’t need that negativity in your life, boo.
Continue reading “No, I don’t want to be your chubby, less-hot friend.”
Your Birthday makes you do crazy things. Some people party, and others want to be smacked with an oak tree branch in a sauna. To each to their own, and “my own” was the latter.
Valentine’s Day is in three days, and you’re literally gonna die if you don’t have a date by then. WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO? No. Really. What are you going to do? Luckily, I can save you.
Continue reading “3 Ways to Get a Last Minute Valentine’s Day Date”
Listen. I definitely consider myself a feminist. I love women so much that if I weren’t straight, I’d totally be gay. I also find the lyrics in Hotline Bling to be borderline offensive and generally hella wack. But will I still get down to it in the cut? Yup. Let me tell you why.
I don’t need to be convinced to get naked. I’m at my most comfortable when I’m not feeling restricted by society’s need to cover me up (which really means I just don’t want to wear pants.) So, I was intrigued by a Groupon offer to float full-nude in a tank full of epsom salt. Continue reading “I cried full naked in a tub full of salt. It was cool?”