I rose up, and you can too. [ Sent from the future to ensure it's female ]
It’s a thought that keeps me up at night sometimes, in between my crazy, vivid dreams (I have an active imagination, what can I say…) Anyone can tell you..."it’s not worth the fight" You can tell a battered, bruised, abused child that they will never amount to anything and will probably have a hard life.…
"Behind every great woman, there is a friend re-reading her email to make sure it sounds professional." This is a post/tweet/meme I've seen circulating for years now. And it's true. As women, we scrutinize and analyze our communications in the workplace to ensure they are devoid of emotion. We take out expletives when we're writing…
Gosh, are we hard on women. And not just in the depressing way we're talking about it in the news these days - where people (and entire political parties, apparently) might actually believe women, they just plain don't care. And, no, not even in the way we pay women less. Or victim blame. Or slut…
You're on a blind date. Or maybe you met someone at a party. Maybe you have a lot in common, maybe you have nothing in common. But the conversation at some point or another shifted. It took a serious turn. Quite literally. Towards childhood. Towards pain. Remembering a sad time. A time where you needed…
I *manifested* this shit. Not all that long ago, I dreamt of a day when I sat in my own apartment in the big city (or at least Chicago is the big city for those of us in the Midwest). When I had a high-energy job, when I was a manager of a team, when…
Look elsewhere. It's not me. To the men out there...you may have been hooked if you met me when my hair was pink, or rose gold, or some combo in between. You may have been enchanted when you found out my hobbies include painting, seeing improv, writing (and now Burlesque). It may have also been…
