We can try to compare miseries, heartaches, injustices but, in the end, it becomes impossible. By Diana Kupershmit
motherhood
Our married life was no longer comfortable. There was no indulgence, no whispered promises of sweet dessert. By Hannah Grieco
Stephanie Land’s daughter learned to walk in a homeless shelter. In her debut memoir, she tells the story of how they survived.
I sent you a bowl of black stones because of the hardness of loving a child for exactly who he is. By Brianne DeRosa
I wanted to believe that bringing teenagers into our life would make it easier to let them go. I was wrong. By Meredith Gordon Resnick
I saw him as I thought he was, an elegant young man for whom I could buy something expressly male. How wrong I was. By Penny Wolfson
If my belly was round and full of baby, would I hate my body less? This body that betrayed me. By Brittany Wren
When he was two, I spent mornings stuffing tubes of penne with scrambled eggs to trick him into eating something other than pasta. By Marianna Marlowe
Time heals so much of what goes wrong in life, but the memory of what happened to Mum on that day still makes my body react. By Clover Stroud
You will be in your slippers, making waffles, and suddenly remember that your mother is dead. By Brianne DeRosa
He sees a choice down the road he doesn’t know how to make: how can he choose just one of his names to join with his wife’s? By Andrea Jarrell
Whether to have a baby before tenure is still one of the most pressing questions for female academics. By Sarah Rivett
One mother refused to let her daughter stop playing the flute. So what made her change her mind? By Daisy Florin
Why is living in mom’s basement such a terrible thing? By Fara Nizamani
How could I do it all again? The uncomfortable pregnancy, the brutal birth, the dark newborn days. By Joy Netanya
For me the taco had become an easy vector of choice, creativity, freedom, and therefore power. By Samantha Shanley
I want my nine-year-old to carry herself without shame. By Daisy Alpert Florin
I don’t care for any “sexy” clothing on little girls. By Sharon Holbrook
I am the mother who was drunk the morning of the first birthday party you were invited to. By Janelle Hanchett
Unlike the majority of her peers, my mom does not consider being a grandma the single most important and satisfying aspect of her life. By Lauren Apfel
Some lessons about social justice, no matter how terrible, are better learned by living than by lecture. By Francie Arenson Dickman
When we use #blessed, we are saying that we have been chosen for joy. The problem is what this word suggests in the context of suffering. By Liz Becker
I decided to stop asking Austin about his plan. I decided to stop suggesting pathways and careers to him, as if I were a marketing director of adulthood. By Ann marie Houghtailing
Perhaps by allowing my daughter to experiment with her appearance and create her own reality, I can put the power back in her hands. By Erin Ott
In a quiet, distant voice I tell my husband that I want to die. Not exactly dead, I clarify, but not this. By Laura G. Owens