Jody Allard

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

And that's when it hit me: It's okay for girls to aspire to be like boys, but it's categorically not okay for boys to aspire to be like girls.

In case ground meat wasn't sketchy enough, a new study by Chapman University found that as much as twenty percent of specialty ground meats are mislabeled –– and many include ground horse and even beaver.

If you follow Humans of New York on Facebook like I do, you probably ugly cry at least once a day. Right now, they are interviewing Syrian refugees who have successfully completed the multi-year process to become approved to enter the United States, and their stories are particularly heart-breaking.

You can stop talking now. Ssshhhh.

The pair has pledged to donate 99 percent of their Facebook shares over the course of their lifetime, which currently amount to about $45 billion. You know, just some pocket change.

"The thing about trauma is that it is hard to remember many of the details, even though some of them remain eternally etched in your memory. I will never forget the pattern of my friend's curtains that I stared at all night long, willing the sun to rise so I could go home, and I will also never forget staring at the white liquid in my underwear and then standing in the shower, trying to burn away my skin, until the water became icy cold."

What I do know is what it is like to be the wife of an addict, and those years taught me to claim responsibility for addictions that aren't my own. Thankfully, while that is still my first instinct, I have come far enough now to pause and remind myself that I am no one's caretaker. I am not responsible for my ex-husband's addiction, and I am certainly not responsible for Macklemore's.

I wish that we inhabited the world Williams’ image depicts, where women can wear bodysuits and high heels and be considered powerful. But if I ventured into the comments I know what I would find: men saying they want to fuck her, women telling her to put some clothes on, and at least one thinly-veiled rape threat. She wants to be fucked, they will say, with her legs open and waiting. Her power and poise will become an invitation to overpower her.

After sorting through all of the reasons why people claim that dress codes are needed, I can't find a single one that holds any weight or that isn't founded in strangely Victorian ideals about girl's bodies.