Growing up ‘girl’ is not all tea parties and lavender scented day-of-the-week panties. It isn’t easy, or subtle, or clean—it isn’t in the realm of femininity in which we’ve been taught to remain. Though a new photography exhibit claims to be ‘disrupting’ these preconceived notions, I argue that it’s just caving to a similar strain.
So I’m taking a short break from the blog this week as outside work is overwhelming me, but I didn’t want the week to go by without mentioning that it’s National Eating Disorder Awareness Week. Here, I’m re-sharing some of my writings on the subject of my anorexia and subsequent recovery, as well as the blogs I always referred to when I needed some extra guidance and support throughout that time.
Inspired by the brilliant Meh List published every week in The Sunday Magazine of The New York Times, I thought I’d start crafting my own, in a similar spirit to my Dear Diary posts.
A sordid tale of attempting to be productive on a Saturday in New York City, involving a heavy dose of the gift that keeps on giving: PDA.
The sisters Knowles, different as they are, can do no wrong in my book. Loving everything Solange right now–her music perks me up immediately and makes me want to dance with abandon in public places.
In honor of Anais Nin’s birthday, I am sharing my favorite journal entry of hers, which tackles that difficult-to-describe misery of the creative mind when it feels it has failed to fulfill its self-imposed quota of creation…a setback I often wrestle with.
Trying to assign one lifestyle or worldview to an entire generation of people is bound to be faulty, but EliteDaily really wins the award for hitting the ball farthest out of the park. Actually, I’m not even sure they’re starting in the park—they’re somewhere far outside it, seemingly locked in the basements of their college frat house (a land where tales of Taylor Swift’s de-virginizer moonlight as worthwhile news).
After reading a poorly articulated article on Refinery 29 titled “Why I’ll Never Regret My Nose Job,” I wanted to counter it by sharing why I’m so glad I never went under the knife.
I’ve cheated on my wife—except my wife, here, is my life. Real life, the off-screen happenings that once took precedence over my perfectly curated online realm.
