Joni Edelman

As a former Mormon, the Church's revelation that they're going to start “loving and accepting” the LGBT community makes me laugh. Hard.

You do not have to hate your body — but you don’t have to love it either. While I'm happy with my fat body, I miss being thin.

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

Can we just take a pause to consider all of the total fucking bullshit to which we subject ourselves?

When I was little, any time I got an insect bite or stubbed my toe, I had to ask my mom, “Am I going to die? If I was going to die from this, I’d already be dead — right?” I also had a 30-minute prayer that I needed to say at each meal or else everyone would be poisoned and die. And corners. I had to check all of them before I went to bed.

Oh hey remember that time in 1804 when Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton had an actual duel, with actual guns and Burr shot Hamilton and Hamilton did not shoot Burr. And then the next day Hamilton died.

In honor of World Bipolar Day, I present a sample stream of consciousness based on my experiences living with this disorder.

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

Now that I've embarked upon the decade I once considered "old," there are a few things I'd like my 20 (and 30) year-old self to know.

It's #STDAwareness week here at Ravishly. We're kicking it off with this handy chart!