When I was a little girl, I wanted to be told I was pretty. I think it came from a place of not beingĀ quiteĀ sure; it came from a place of wanting to be told that I was more than I was, somehow. I’ve spoken in the past about growing up with a beautiful mother, and about the pressure I felt…
Pity the daughters of beautiful women who by some twist of genetics do not end up looking like our gorgeous fashionable mothers, but looking more like ourselves instead. They will always be the yardsticks that we will never live up to, and many of us may spend our entire lives trying. People will be unkind and tell us that we…
When my godsonās seven year old sister Anaina visited her best friend J a couple of days ago, she was expecting to just be a seven year old and hang out with her friend. She was looking forward to playing with J, showing her the new present her uncle had bought her, and hanging out. But when she went back…
What, another post, and so soon? Well, yes. I haven’t been blogging in a couple of weeks and I have some catching up to do. I read an interesting post by the friend of a friend about body hair. In other words, a woman’s body hair. In other other words, this is THAT post about body hair. You know, the…