Carrie Saum

We have all been there before. The stuck place. Your body feels heavy, your feet glued to the floor. Maybe you have a hard time getting out of bed. Maybe you feel sad about a relationship that is deteriorating or has completely dissolved. Maybe you just feel completely spent and worn out, and lack the energy to move at all. Or maybe you have this great big beautiful life you're afraid to step into and the fear has you paralyzed.

The Internet has told us that instead of selling our wild summer children to a band of traveling performers, we should go swimming with them instead. At a beach or at the pool, your choice. The Internet also told us that us moms should get over our silly body issues and just play! Have fun!

As white feminists, we have an absolute and undeniable responsibility to seek out perspectives of marginalized people and gain understanding.

Occasionally, I get confused about the line between cooking and crafting. Spring rolls are in that category. I give myself a pass, though, because even if they look a mess, they taste legit. They also walk that really gorgeous line between being indulgent, healthy, and fun. That just so happens to be my favorite line when it comes to food… and probably sex.

In February, you gave me that soul-punching gaze again and told me it's okay to eat bread while we obtain Our Best Bodies. You lost 26(!) pounds and you eat bread every damn day! I feel how miraculous this is for you because you've probably made bread evil, along with All The Carbs and fat on your body.

I know that our group of friends is special. But the specialness comes from some core values that I will share with you. I will give you fair warning: these are not for people who are interested in receiving. These eight guidelines are for people who are interested in building a community.

I now interrupt your frantic turkey preparations for the following announcement: 

EAT PIZZA, INSTEAD.

I understood in no uncertain terms because of purity culture that having sex outside of marriage was the worst thing I could do as a young woman.

Gather anything orange, brown, olive green, harvest yellow, and dead. Dead leaves, dead flowers, dead hopes and dreams, and arrange them artistically on your front doorstep.

Motherhood didn’t pan out the way I anticipated, not even a little bit. It was so much more electrifying and terrifying and amazing than I ever imagined.