Joni Edelman

Misogyny is pervasive. And my three boys are living it all.

I was told that feminism is man hate. That abortion is murder. And then I thought, "What am I doing here?"

In today's HELLO, OBVIOUSLY news: National Coffee Day.

“I don’t even know what to say, Joni. Your baby isn’t alive.”

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

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

No, Bill Cosby isn't my dad. But he was like one to me growing up.

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.

When I had my first child, I couldn't have prepared for the way it would make me feel.

I don’t think anyone who has been to the spirited child parenting rodeo would call a mother who screams, “bad,” or who loses her temper, a “failure.” I think we all understand parenting is really really hard from the get go, and parenting a kid who won’t sleep, who screams and kicks and says they hate you, is its own challenge