Women apologize a lot. And often for things out of their control or which frankly aren’t offensive. So I’m waging a bit of a one-woman campaign against unnecessary apologies amongst my girlfriends.
Excuse Me (But I’m Not Sorry)
No Wrong Choice
I read something recently: whatever choice you make, it will be the right one because it’s the one that will move you forward in your journey. It will change where you’re at right now by creating new circumstances for your life, and those circumstances will be precisely the ones you’re supposed to occupy.
On Being Real
My mom read this excerpt from the children’s book The Velveteen Rabbit at my grandma’s funeral: “Real isn't how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It's a thing that happens to you… You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.”
My Bad Feminist Essay
I consider myself a feminist, and this question has long rattled around in my head: Can I be a feminist AND a Kid Rock fan?
Good Grief
In August of 2017, I lost my favorite person on the planet.
Reason, Season, Lifetime
I can’t remember who told me this or where I read it, but I once encountered a concept that struck me, stayed with me, and has significantly impacted my thinking over the years: people come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime.
My Heavy Blanket
I had my first "encounter" with depression my sophomore year of college. I remember the time and place of it like it was yesterday - and even still today as I reflect on it I can feel those first moments - the emptiness, the confusion, the loneliness and desperation. Sadness swept over me like a wave, and the lights went out all around me. And, more painfully, the lights went out inside of me. I had no idea what was happening, and I certainly didn’t know what to do about it.
Some Unfinished Business 