Britni de la Cretaz

The first time I remember learning what a safeword was, I was sitting in my college dorm, devouring blogs about kink and BDSM. It all seemed so foreign to me, a teenager who couldn’t imagine real people doing any of the taboo things these blogs talked about.

Women have changed their last names from their father’s to their new husband’s — a tradition that used to symbolize the transfer of “property” from one man to another. That property, of course, was the virgin bride. Many people will argue that it no longer has that implication, but for me, as a feminist, partaking in a tradition that is so rooted in the literal oppression of women is something that left an incredibly bad taste in my mouth.

I want my child to be able to self-determine. What that means to me is that they know they have options besides the “default” one that’s plastered all over their TV screens, and that they always know that.

Unemployment can be stressful and terrifying no matter what. However, I learned a lot in each of these situations and, while hard, there are some bright spots in the aftermath of losing a job.

"Go ahead, call me a bitch. It’s one of the nicest things you could say about me."

In part, I didn't want kids because I knew that I couldn't even take care of myself, let alone someone else.

Loving someone who struggles with alcoholism and addiction is one of the hardest things to do. It’s a drain on friends and family in both financial and emotional ways. It comes with ups and downs, characterized by periods of hope followed by devastation when you’re let down yet again.

Other girls are awesome. I never had any close female friends. I always said girls were “vapid, “catty,” and “annoying.” In reality, I was threatened by other girls.

Boston.com recently published an incredibly offensive hit-piece mocking Sandoval and making fat jokes, complete with accompanying photos that showed Sandoval’s stomach hanging over the top of his pants as he threw a baseball. It was lazy and offensive at best, but dangerous at worst.

Don’t read the comments! Is a common refrain in almost anything on the Internet, and with good reason. And when it comes to breastfeeding, the comments make it clear that we have a long way to go — even among feminists.