Adiba Nelson

Shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t get so sassy right now.

I would break girl code. And if you love me, I hope you would do it for me too.

I applaud you for being here. I applaud you for giving life the five fingers of death and deciding to show up for whatever the day brings — every day.

There wasn’t going to be any sparkle. There wasn’t going to be any new mommy magic.

Then we had that talk that made my eye twitch: the budget talk.

I think we can all agree that there is an incredible amount of power in being a woman. We run corporations, households, and our own glittery, mashed-up, sometimes-so-fucked-up-I-wanna-hide-under-a-blanket-and-never-come-out-again lives. And we do it as gracefully as we possibly can. And while we’re doing it, we have a soundtrack playing in the background.

My father was an abusive man, plain and simple.

That wasn’t all he was, but to my mother, that's who he was. He was a controlling individual who perhaps took the scripture, “Wives, submit to your husbands” a tad bit too literally — and when my mom didn’t submit, she paid the price. Often with a blow to the head.

Want to go on a carbs and wine tour of Italy? Break out the leggings and go for it. This time is yours.

"I now had my seat of power, my throne, if you will. That’s why I customized my chair to look like a throne. And that’s why I liked it in my act: because I was truly in love with it and all that it represented for me. It was no longer a trap or a cage. It was freedom. It was power. It was sexy. And it was mine."

It is made up of women that I've known since I was 8, and women I met last week.