Suzannah Weiss

Being conscious of who you spend your time around is essential for your self-care. Here are some toxic people you can go ahead and cut out this year.

When speaking with eating disorder victims, what not to say is as important as what to say.

On the interview room’s cozy couch, Ellie (AKA Elliphant) sounded off on the absurdity of American gender roles, how humans are like giraffes, and her past life as a dude resembling Mowgli from The Jungle Book. No, really.

Talking about sex may make you uncomfortable, but so would having children who grow up in ignorance and fear.

Women — and everyone, for that matter — I invite you to join me in a new game. Instead of stooping down to sympathize when someone strays from societal body ideals, and instead of bringing others down with us when we're struggling with body image ourselves, let's all lift one another up by declaring that there's nothing wrong with what we've just eaten, how we look in a bathing suit, or what size pants we’re wearing.

I won't lie: When it comes to my appearance, I'm not my own biggest fan. Others may disagree, but catching a glimpse of myself in my mirrored closet doors is not a pleasant experience.

“Some of the smartest thinkers . . . are university professors, but most of them just don’t matter in today’s great debates”—or do they?

When people picture an eating disorder, they often imagine shocking behaviors that deviate wildly from normal eating. But our society’s definition of “normal,” especially for women, can look so similar to an eating disorder that it’s hard to tell when you’ve crossed the line between healthy and disordered eating. That's why, by following popular health advice, I became anorexic without even knowing it.

I have pressured people into sex. I have had partners say they weren’t in the mood and tried to change their minds. I have sulked when they didn’t. And I did this for years without realizing it was wrong. Why? Because I’m a straight woman.

I’ve never been able to embrace the life of no regrets. Regrets are stubborn seeds that plant themselves in my mind, refusing to leave until something grows from them. I water them by reliving my past until I figure out what I would do differently if I could go back. Eventually, I do go back, even if the situation is slightly different.