Mental Health & Body Image

That Time I Was Slut-Shamed by the Turkey Lady

I was strolling through the halls of my high school as a young sophomore when I was grabbed at the scruff of my neck by the turkey lady. (more…)

That Time I Was Called Out for Being Too Happy at Work

A coworker commented today on my perma-cheery demeanor. I’ve worked at this job for almost a year now, and my coworker joined about six months prior to my arrival. She remarked that when she started, she was cheery like me on a daily basis, but since before I started working here, she has been under such constant stress that she wants to start pulling her hair out. (Figuratively. I checked.) (more…)

An Open Letter to All the Ugly Men I’ve Slept With

Let me first give a heartfelt thank you to all of you men who have shared (or have offered to share) your bodies with me, in any capacity. That’s a gift that I do not take lightly. What puzzles me, though, is why you can’t recognize your own appeal. (more…)

Men vs. Women: What Your Lover is ACTUALLY Freaking Out About in Bed

During last weekend’s torrential snow dump, over a homemade orange Fanta snow slushie and after many hours of binge-watching Sex and the City, I started pondering the differences between men’s and women’s expectations and fears in bed. (more…)

That Angry, Naked Guy is Art!

Since the last time I visited the Hirshhorn Museum in D.C. a few years ago, which was the first time I’d been since I was maybe seven years old, one work of art has remained fixated in my mind and left within me a lasting, emotional impression.

Big Man, by Ron Mueck, is a larger-than-life sculpture of a round, hunched, naked, scowling man. In person, I found him to be breathtaking. He bears a look of tired frustration across his brow and jaw, and fleshy curves across his abdomen. His skin is wrinkled, dimpled, and splotched.

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I Just Can’t Wait to Be Queen

I find myself waking up with a racing heartbeat and a foul knot in the pit of my stomach more frequently these days. My best guess is that the largest stressor in my life right now is my job, only it isn’t the work causing me anxiety.

I have spent most of my life terrified of authority figures, and even though I adore my boss and think we work extremely well as a team, I can’t help but wonder if I’m stressing myself out over the idea of disappointing him.

On the job, I am devastated when my boss suggests any sort of dissatisfaction with my work. At face value, I recognize the absurdity of this stressor. I work damn hard and perform the best that I can on a regular basis, and I’m still fairly new at what I’m doing, so the expectation of perfection is ludicrous. (more…)

Surrendering My Birth Control Pills (Though, Thankfully, Not to the Government)

In the aftermath of my recent breakup, one decision I’ve been pondering is whether or not to continue taking birth control pills. I love making executive decisions, but this one has me helplessly on the fence.

Do I need birth control pills? No, but knowing what I know now, I probably didn’t need them at all during the relationship; they were merely a source of comfort that I felt gave me access to a greater variety of activities. The fact that those riskier activities were rarely explored is beside the point. (more…)

GENITAL DRAWING CONTEST!

In celebration of my beau’s move into his new apartment this weekend, we (read: I) decided the best way to celebrate was to christen the new whiteboard on his bedroom wall with a game of I-can-do-anything-better-than-you. Behold — genitalia! (more…)

Emotional Pissing Wars: My Pain Is Bigger Than Your Pain

I read recently about the celebrity Twitter scornfest regarding Kendall Jenner’s now minorly infamous tweet about wishing “things could be easier sometimes”. Frances Bean Cobain chastised Jenner’s self-involvement during a time when “poverty, draught, disease” and worse continue to plague our world. And yet, I sympathize with Jenner’s plight.

A friend of mine once confessed during a depressive episode that although she feels sad about her personal struggles, she also battles guilt because other people in the world have “bigger problems” than hers. What right does she have to feel bad about family, friendships, her own self-esteem, or her direction in life when there are millions of people living in war zones without sufficient access to clean drinking water? (more…)

The Perfect Body? Cut the Facade, Not the Pounds.

My yoga buddy, a sixty-something-year-old engineer from an affluent family, told me this week that I have a perfect body. He meant it as a compliment because I’m thin with socially privileged body measurements, but his statement left me wondering about its deeper implications. The perfect body… what does that mean? (more…)