Being awkward is rough. Social skills and eye contact don’t come naturally to everyone, OK? What’s even worse is being one of those awkward girls around your crush. All normal conversations and behavior can be thrown right out the window in romantic-related situations (even if the romance is one-sided — that one side being you). The struggle is real, and we have 13 socially inept reasons to prove it. Read more on Tres Sugar…
Ever since I heard about Robin Williams’ devastating suicide, I’ve been thinking about this post and how I was going to write it. I’ve thought about it as I was drifting off to sleep. What did I want to say? How did I want to say it? Would it come out right? Would I even know what to say? What sorts of emotions would this stir?
The word suicide is even like a black hole of sorts. It’s expansive, never-ending and dark, and no matter how much you talk about it, there’s always more than can be said. Always. I wish I could say that you can’t relate, but unfortunately, I know far too many of you can. Maybe you’re even grappling with what to say and trying to find the words to comfort a family member, a friend and even yourself. It’s been 11 years since my father’s suicide, and I still fumble to find the right words every single day. So today, I will write them. Not just for my father. Not just for Robin Williams. But for me and for you — and for the millions that live with the effect of suicide every day. In my darkest days of grief, these are the five things I’ve learned about suicide… Keep reading »
Meeting a mate online is not easy. At all. And anyone who’s used even a dating app can tell you a horror story or three. Your straightforward and basic account profile won’t catch potential partners’ eyes – instead, it’ll turn them off.
What matters? Well, according to statistics, it’s a mix of things we can’t control, how talk about ourselves and what we show off. It can be everything from race to your favorite sport. And while appearances matter more than ever to the online world, so does vocab … and where you take your profile picture.
Here’s what science says will get you in the door — and staying there. Read more on Your Tango…
Lauren Adkins, a 25-year-old student and artist from Las Vegas, loved her cardboard cutout of Robert Pattinson so much that she decided to marry it. Adkins was obsessed with “Twilight” when she came across the cutout of Robert/Edward Cullen at a record store. She told the Mirror, “I grabbed his rigid torso and stuffed him under my arm before marching to the counter and handing over a $20 note. Then, cramming him into my car I headed back to my apartment where I ripped off his cellophane and stood him at the foot of my bed. For the rest of the night I couldn’t take my eyes off him.” She started to take Robert out and about with her. A friend jokingly asked why she didn’t just married the cardboard R-Patz if she loved him so much — and that’s when she decided to do exactly that. Keep reading »
“If you want to have kids you’d better do it while you’re young. The women in our family go through menopause early — 38 to be exact. Your grandmother? 39.”
My mother said that to me every few weeks from the moment I started menstruating until I hit 30. But at 25, I was more concerned with drink specials than finding someone special. During my monthly fertility chats with Mom, I’d internally puff up and congratulate myself for not being into all that conventional crap.
I was the cool chick. The one who didn’t need a boyfriend and didn’t want to get married and lived in a big, bad city and focused on work and traipsed about to parties; soaking up new experiences and bad dating stories like a weathered Army vet with a killer hangover. This was my identity and I loved every second of it. Keep reading »
Some years ago, a young man that I was casually dating invited me to a birthday party with some of his friends who all moved to New York City, from Florida, to go to college. It was a scenario I had long grown accustomed to: I was the only Black girl amongst a group of non-minority people, laughing, drinking and talking.
Then this statement came out of nowhere and immediately wiped the smile from my face: “The best way to keep America safe is to just deport all of the Muslims,” a young White boy said in between sips of a beer.
It pierced my ears, momentarily paralyzing me. My eyes darted towards my friend to gauge his reaction to the words that pierced the air like an arrow launched from a bow, striking me in my chest. He seemed completely unmoved.
“Well, we don’t have to get rid of all of them, just the terrorists really,” he responded plainly.
We never spoke after that day. Keep reading »