Danielle Campoamor

We aren’t the vastly complicated and wildly unique individuals we profess to be.

One little white lie never hurt anyone. 

The narrative hasn’t changed, and neither has our drastic need for its non-stop consumption.

You reside inside it, but it’s not yours. You can move it, sometimes awkwardly, and control it, sometimes disastrously, but it isn’t yours.

Yes, boys and girls, regret is inevitable. 

And still, you don’t hear it very often do you? 

I smile to myself, refusing to allow this moment to be lost on me.

27. The men who are the loudest, puff their chest out the farthest, and wear the most muscle-accentuating shirts are the most insecure. There is strength in silence. 

That glowing woman who lovingly rubs her belly as she flawlessly glides around her home and effortlessly completes day-to-day tasks? Yeah, she doesn’t exist.

Now you’ve done it. You’ve published a written something and have encountered the inevitable negative comment. Maybe it’s personal or riddled with accusatory language or, simply put, horribly rude.

Your entire body is terrified as you begin to revisit that debilitating feeling of helplessness. All. Over. Again. 

We’ve had some marvelous times, you and I

Perhaps it’s the all-encompassing hipster movement of premeditated accidental coolness, where record players and typewriters and oversized glasses reign supreme.

All significant disappearances. All capable of sending us into the darkest parts of ourselves. 

It didn’t take long for me to succumb to the fact that sleeping was out of the question.

Which definitely had never happened before.

What a waste of anticipatory time.

When the latest friend, beaming in her overpriced wedding dress, gushes over lace and obsesses over rhinestones and imagines that coveted first look, I miss him.