Joni Edelman

Psychiatric illness is still stigmatized. And that’s hard when you have a psychiatric illness.

It doesn’t get any more difficult to insult ourselves, regardless of how old we are. It would be ideal if it got easier to respect ourselves, but it generally doesn’t do that either. Every year you age, and every year the aging you looks at the you of the years before and thinks, I can’t believe I thought I was fat/ugly/etc.

Welcome to #RavsWriters, an opportunity for you to get to know some of the outstanding human beings who fervently type to make Ravishly the aw

Having kids doesn't have to mean the death of your sex life.

So you fed your baby some formula instead of breast milk. His future is not shot. Really. It's not—and The Guilt serves no one.

I’m lucky to be smart, to have an astonishingly good memory. Or maybe I’m lucky to be bipolar.

Is that incense I smell? A drum circle in the distance perhaps? Chanting? Herbal potions? Perhaps a cauldron? Could it be homebirth?

Let's get to it—a primer on The Sex.

Actually, no, I'm not a gluttonous moron.

Being vulnerable, being seen (even lumpy and naked), admitting weakness, asking for help — these acts inspire and edify.