If you're not familiar with "Girl's Life," it calls itself the "#1 magazine for 10-15 year old girls" and features many glossy photo spreads of 10-year-old girls wearing lip gloss and trying on hair ribbons while smiling prettily into pink hand mirrors.
He left the bedroom calmer than I'd seen him all night, walked into the backyard and ended his life.
We all have something in our genetics that makes us susceptible to some sort of illness. Maybe it’s cancer, maybe it’s diabetes, maybe it’s thyroid issues. I am lucky and unlucky that I know what my time bomb is.
The whole thing started because I needed income over the summer and my best friend had commented “You should model!” on a Facebook picture. Yes. I am that susceptible.
it happened to me
What do you do when you’re bored of your daily office life? You leave your job, start hugging trees and get rid of all your preconceptions of normal human interaction.
girls gone wild
I was 18, it was Mardi Gras, and I'd never heard of Joe Francis, a man with the moral constitution of a bowel movement.
I bought a scale and was horrified to see that I was up nearly 30 pounds from my lowest. It was the worst sin: regain.
I was locked in an exam room at my optometrist’s office, and I was about to join hands with two technicians and the doctor while they forced me to pray to Jesus.
Just the thought of eating an apple is enough to bring me out in a cold sweat. A salad garnish is my mortal enemy. It's a really, really annoying phobia.
When this story is repeated, the listener always exhibits complete disbelief.
Most days I laid in bed and suffered, convinced that either I had some kind of cancer eating me from the inside out that no doctor could find, or that they were right and there was nothing wrong with me and the pain was an invention of my twisted mind.
I will tell you, when someone commits a felony in order to no longer share their life with you, it’s a big, fat, fucking “FUCK YOU!” with a judge’s approval.
I learned that sex equaled love, and as long as I was willing to give it, I wouldn’t be alone.
I am addicted to the pursuit and the reward of first time sex. I lack the skills and know-how to cultivate a sustained sexual relationship with someone I care for over a long period of time.
He wanted me to admit to him that yes, in fact, my weight did bother me. He wanted to hear my say it, to hear the word “fat” come out of my lips.
While I believe that polyamory can work for some people, it did not work for me.
After struggling to get pregnant, I had to have a misplaced pregnancy surgically removed. When looking for comfort, I found reasons to be angry, and reasons to be persistent.