Jody Allard

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I don't believe that you're incapable of treating me and my friends with compassion. Maybe you just need a little help.

As the relationship ends, when divorcing a narcissist, you are no longer useful to them, and they no longer feel any obligation to treat you civilly.

One White House staffer took off his gloves, shredded them, and lit their tattered remains on fire when he told reporters that Trump's comments "disqualified him" from the presidency and that his candidacy will soon be relegated to the "dustbin of history."

The ACLU of Kentucky has already filed a motion for contempt against Davis because even after the SCOTUS told her to start issuing marriage licenses, she was back at work the next morning, stonily turning away gay couples.

For all of the touchy-feely awesomeness of the idea of "focusing on compassion," there are moments in life when it's simply not practical. One of those moments is when it takes every last bit of internal fortitude simply to survive.

It took five years for my daughter to be diagnosed with autism. There were dozens of red flags, beginning from the time she was about 10 months old, but her pediatrician always told me that she was fine. "She made eye contact with me," she reassured me. "She can't be on the spectrum." Besides, most children with autism, she reminded me, are boys.

After eight-year-old Archer Nelson's mother was diagnosed with breast cancer, he had one thing on his mind: boobs.

As you might imagine, assuming that men and women are exactly the same hasn't worked out too well.

". . . a couple of people posted the nastiest sex ad they could come up with to Craigslist and published all of the responses, including pictures, email addresses, etc. Unfortunately, my ex husband was dumb enough to use a fake email address but still send this "woman" multiple pictures of himself that included both his face and his dick. It was very obvious to everyone concerned that my husband was soliciting nasty sex online."