Profile for Chanel Dubofsky

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The Soapbox: It’s Not Just That I Don’t Want Kids, It’s Also That I Don’t Like Them

What Not To Say
... to people who don't want kids. Read More »
No Kids For Gloria
Gloria Steinem on Chelsea Lately
Gloria Steinem explains why she never wanted children. Read More »
Women Without Kids
Women writers without kids understand human emotions, too. Read More »
screaming child

Last week, I was in a conversation on Facebook in which I admitted to not liking kids. (My comment: “Real talk: I don’t actually like babies, actually, or children.”) I thought about taking it down as soon as I posted it. An hour later, I was still thinking about taking it down. No one paid much attention to the comment; it’s not really a secret among my friends that I feel this way, although one friend wrote “Yikes,” which I’m still not sure how to respond to. Nevertheless, I felt like I had crossed some serious line. I post everything I write — mostly personal essays that connect to my political beliefs — on social media. As such, this status is definitely not the first time I’ve insulted someone with my beliefs. Yet affirming my dislike of children on Facebook seemed like a whole new level of evil.

But still, I didn’t take the status down. Keep reading »

Girl Talk: My Name Is Fancy, But Me? Not So Much

Guy Talk: Last Name
This man took his wife's last name. Read More »
Kept My Maiden Name
Andrea Grimes is still Andrea Grimes, thank you very much. Read More »
Names That Get Lucky
Which names get laid the most? Read More »

There are two main versions of my name story. The first is the one I like telling, which is that I was named after my grandmother’s best friend, Charlotte. It doesn’t make any sense, I know. But it’s better — although I suspect less accurate — than the second version, which is that my mother was reading a magazine while sitting on the toilet (apparently this was an important detail), and came across an ad for Chanel perfume. Hence, a difficultly-named troublemaker was born.

I hate my name.  Okay, that’s not fair. I have a complicated relationship with my name. For a long time, I just wanted to be named Jen, or Rebecca, or anything but Chanel. (I’m an only child, so there’s no one to compare names with, no sibling with an equally complicated name.) Teachers went into a full-on, sweaty panic when they saw my full name, and kids seized upon me with gleeful cruelty, creating every permutation you can think of and referring to me as such. Recently, when I was signing into the apartment building where I was cat sitting, the doorman informed me that my name was “not spelled that way.” Keep reading »

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