I was born with Freeman-Sheldon Syndrome, a genetic bone and muscular disorder. I had 26 surgeries by my 16th birthday, so hospital rooms and intimidating doctors’ offices quickly became the backdrop of my childhood, filling up metaphorical pages that other kids had reserved for dirt hill races and princess tea parties with their stuffed animals. More »
My best friend works at a handmade art market in Portland. She meets a lot of interesting people when she’s sitting at her booth selling necklaces — earth mamas who share recipes for homemade toothpaste, wood carvers who claim very matter-of-factly that they were born on a different planet, chakra healers and aura seers and… More »
From the time I learned what fingering was at age 11, it sounded not that great to me, and that didn’t really change for about 15 years.
Even the idea of fingering (or “fingerbanging,” yikes) sounded bad. It almost didn’t occur to me that fingering would be something I would actually want. I’d… More »
I’ve always prided myself on being a pretty fearless person. I was born with Freeman-Sheldon Syndrome, a genetic bone and muscular disorder, and spent much of my childhood in and out of doctors’ offices and hospitals. I’ve survived some 26 surgeries. I’ve worked through the dark days following my father’s suicide. Oh, and let’s not… More »
As the song so painfully and beautifully goes, motherless children have a hard time. I am lucky I was not one of those children. And I’m not one of those adults. My mom is in excellent health and we have a close relationship. I’m grateful for that. But as mother’s day approaches, I can’t help… More »
The first time I asked my boyfriend if he had ever actually dated a black girl, we had not even met yet. It was during one of our online Skype sessions that the conversation came up.
“I’ve never really lived around too many black people,” he confessed.
“So have you ever… More »
After 10 years together, my husband and I are pregnant. Or I’m pregnant. It sounds too cutesy to say we, but it’s not happening to me alone. At the same time, I notice it’s only my alcohol intake that has dropped off dramatically.
Whatever the terminology, we got pregnant easily. Almost on a… More »
In college, I was part of a tight-knit group of young women. There were five of us in the core group. Two were roommates and their room, 513, was our central meeting place. There was a lack of formality when it came to hanging out. It was totally normal to walk right in if the… More »
It’s really difficult to talk about the end of a relationship when you haven’t exactly had a breakup.
“Well, how did it end?” someone inevitably asks.
“Umm … I left him a heart-wrenching voicemail,” seems too embarrassing an answer.
I dated someone for more than eight months until he completely… More »
In the months leading up to my move from Portland to Nashville, my life wasn’t exactly going smoothly. My family situation was growing more stressful by the day. Some of my closest friendships had turned toxic. I felt extremely out of place in the hipster culture that dominated the city. My boyfriend wasn’t happy in… More »
We all know that Valentine’s Day is a contrivance of greeting card companies and florists. We all know that even those who have nice relationships aren’t really enjoying February 14th, as there is nothing particularly romantic about eating overpriced heart-shaped ravioli in a restaurant full of unhappy couples on the coldest night of the year. More »
Let’s set the scene: I’m 23, drinking chai in a charming coffee shop. Sitting across from me is a gloriously burly guy in a leather jacket (and, as I know from his Fetlife photos, also in possession of two equally glorious full sleeves of serpent tattoos).
Then the conversation veers from what we… More »
“You would be in better shape if you had a German wife,” I tell my husband.
I’m sure this is true. Not only do the Germans have a fondness for fitness, but they generally don’t take a lot of shit. As an American, I am more susceptible to his feeble pleas that pizza… More »
We’re all born with the ability to eat intuitively, to listen to our body’s needs, to eat nourishing foods when we’re hungry, to stop when we’re full. It’s our default setting; our natural state. Even just writing that out right now, it’s such a “duh” that I can’t believe how easy and common it is… More »
“What time do you go to bed?” the acupuncturist asked while monitoring my pulse.
“Like, midnight?” I said.
“And what time do you wake up?” she asked, examining my tongue.
“Um, 6:30,” I said, proudly.
I’ve always thought of excessive sleeping as a sign of weakness. Just… More »
I am a woman who is engaged to be married. But unlike lots of your friends who are busy posting photographs of their diamond engagement rings on Facebook, you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at my left hand.
This is because I told my fiancée many times before we got engaged… More »
I moved to Charlotte a few months ago by way of Syracuse, New York. I left my family, the only place I’d ever lived, and snow in both May and October to check out life down south. Since I was Syracuse born and bred, I didn’t fully realize how monumental moving is until I did… More »
Up until two months ago, I was drinking, on average, a bottle of wine a night. I don’t know if that makes me an alcoholic. I wasn’t going out and getting blotto at bars; I was coming home from work, pouring myself glass after glass while I did responsible adults things, like laundry, cooking dinner,… More »
When I first decided to give spontaneous sex a try, I wish Whoopi Goldberg had been there to warn me: “Krissy, you’re in danger, girl.”
I first learned about our generation’s favorite pastime while watching – surprise, surprise! – “Beverly Hills, 90210,” where the primary plot line was: Doorbell rings. Hot guy stands… More »