Sometimes I am baffled that the same people I get drunk and watch cute animal videos on Youtube with can lay down so much realness when I need it most.
Old habits die-hard and more than once Josh had to remind me that I was on vacation, not a planner, and he had everything under control. Letting go is hard, guys.
What others think of the choices I make for myself. People throwing their two cents my way can keep on walking.
I get bullied and harassed on the street, but when I raise my voice to my aggressors to demand that I be treated as a human being rather than a piece of meat I am told to ‘grow up, stop being rude, learn how to be nice, damn bitch.’
As adults, our parents never sit us down and reassure us that they love us even though they are getting a divorce, and we don’t necessarily want them to. It’s not about being coddled or protected by our parents anymore; for us it is about finding a sense of stability and normalcy that allows us to move forward.
My life has always been divided into sets of two: rooms, toys, clothes, chores, moms, dads, hugs. I am the child of divorced parents.
One of my contributions focused on sexism in academia, particularly the way in which distinguished women academics face increased scrutiny of their appearance. On multiple occasions not only my colleagues, but my students have felt it appropriate to discuss how I look. The entitlement that men feel to comment on my appearance goes beyond the pale of simple “compliments”.
It can be freeing to escape to a place where there is an apparent lack of structure or regulation, particularly in a culture increasingly fraught with overzealous policing and blurred rules on privacy.
I have struggled with my personal health for a significant part of my life.
I recently traveled to Hawaii in order to celebrate the life of my Great Grandmother, and to reconnect with family who live there.