Michaela Mitchell

I can't decide which school of thought is more annoying. “Lose weight, get healthy, don't be a drain on society, and finally have the best, most perfect life once you're skinny!” or “Screw what people think! Be comfortable in your own skin! Don't ever change because change equals conformity!”

Ever hear the phrase, “We were poor growing up, but I didn't know it?” It was a common refrain in my family. When my mother and aunt speak about those days, they wax poetically about tomato sandwiches and bread with every meal (meant to fill an empty stomach when there wasn't enough food).

My journey to acknowledging my guilt and privilege while embracing my feminist view on the world has been a slow, winding trip — with no end in sight.

You turn your back to deal with a crying toddler (I mean, answer a customer's question) and when you look back, every single shirt is unfolded and on the floor. Just at that moment, someone else walks by and rolls their eyes and sighs at how “nasty the store is" and wonders why they "can't they hire good people to keep it clean.”

Ah, January of a new year. Time to wake up a completely different person from the woman I was in 2015, including: 30 pounds lighter by February! I call bullshit.

How many times have you opened your mouth only to hear your parents instead? This happens to me all the time . . .

I don't know if it's because I've lived in the deep South my entire life or if it's a generational thing. I do know that I was raised to “act like a lady” — always. Good girls didn't say certain things or look a certain way. We didn't raise our voices or argue with authority figures, and we apologized – a lot.

During the darkest moments after my split with my husband and then divorce, when I thought life would never get better, and I kicked myself for thinking I could be on my own, it was music that got me through.

Older men hooking up with younger women get a bad rap.

I admit it. I have a resting bitch face. Yes, I've been told I'm intimidating. And yes, I've heard “What's wrong?” when I'm randomly existing somewhere. I'm used to people misinterpreting my facial expression and moods.