Feminism | Posted by M.Wil on 10/10/2014
How To Deal With Insults About Your Body
I must say for a teenage girl I have always been pretty confident about my body. I have never been a twig but am also not overweight and have never felt bothered by my appearance. Every year, I fly to Germany to spend two months with my slightly crazy family – especially my grandma, the boss of the family and a woman who inspires me deeply. So you can imagine the sharp sting I felt when the last time I arrived at the family home and greeted my grandmother she kissed me, gave me a once over and declared: “My, have you grown. And fat.” I hadn’t seen the woman who means the world to me in six months, and all she could do was comment on my body.
Feminism | Posted by Mansi K on 02/13/2013
I’m Not Sorry I’m A Girl. I’m Sorry You Care.
How are you supposed to feel the first time you realize your grandparents wish you had been born a boy? I’m still not sure. I do know, however, that if my paternal grandparents had the option to transfer my identity into a body with a penis, they would gladly capitalize on the opportunity. I, the oldest child, should have been born a boy. When I came out penis-less, this hope was transferred to my younger sibling. Well, exactly 4.5 years later, my mother disappointed again. And that was it; my parents didn’t want more children.
I have never doubted the fact that my grandparents love me. But every time I remember that I am worth even a little bit less because I have breasts or because I will not carry …
Articles | Posted by Danielle B on 03/14/2011
When You Lose Someone (From One Teen to Another)
It’s 10:06 AM on a random Tuesday morning (I’m not a skipper, folks, my school is on Mid-Winter Break), but I got a weird impulse to write this post.
My dad passed away last month. Chances are some of you have also lost a loved one in the past few months and, like myself, are struggling with how to get by.
When my dad was in the hospital and hooked up to what felt like a thousand different machines doing all of his bodily functions for him, it was really tough. I try to block those memories out, but I can still picture everything with perfect clarity: sitting by his bedside, holding a hand that at times felt too cold and at others too hot, and above all else, trying …