Gemma Hartley

Did you read “gymnastics for grown-ass adults” and get real excited? Like, where can I find this? How can I do this? This sounds awesome! 

I want and need to save some room for myself, to know that I am worthy of a place in the world without the label of mother.

My six-year-old son got into the car after school and declared he only wanted to have one kid when he grew up.

Getting pregnant after postpartum depression may have stolen a lot from me, but it gave me a lot more.

Again and again I refuse to prioritize, refuse to let anything slide, at the expense of my physical and mental health.

Last week, the internet went into an understandable uproar when a Christian woman decided to take to Facebook to talk about how she is

“Feminism” wasn’t a word I heard much growing up. When I did hear it, I equated it with a historical event, not a work in progress. I thought first-wave feminism was a one-and-done deal, and that all the work necessary for women’s equality had already been accomplished.

I was constantly on the defense, prepared to fight for my young love against those who thought I wasn’t ready for marriage. It pains me to say it, but in a way, they were right after all. There were things I was missing out on by marrying young, things I didn’t even realize I was missing until it was too late.

I want to live my best life and, honestly, it's exhausting. Sometimes I wish I could just take a break and say I'm content with where I'm at.

Making friends as a grown woman is hard. I figured out a few tips on how to set up successful one-on-one friend dates, as well as how to handle the territory of a budding platonic relationship with another woman.