Pound Your Chest. Everyone. Pound It.
By Deborah Quibell
Never Again Apologize For Your Strength.
My only saving grace while growing up was that I was fairly brilliant -- straight A's, natural athlete, no help needed apart from being fed and given a roof over my head.
Covered In Divine Slobber: Teaching With Tenderness.
By Deborah Quibell
If I Use ‘Fuck’ in My Title, Will You Click on It?
Yes, I want clicks, and yes, I want this to be a career. I want the ability to sustain myself doing something I love just like everyone else in the world wants to do. Maybe I will be lucky and find the pot at the end of the rainbow, or maybe I won’t.
My Thirty-Ninth Year — What I Know So Far.
I know that some of my misery is self-imposed and almost brought on purposefully. Maybe I am comfortable in it. Maybe it helps me to feel that all is right with the world because I’m preparing for the misery that will inevitably come. Maybe that’s not true at all, and there is a darkness that I ...
The Broken Goddess.
She’s broken, alone, exhausted, lying at the bottom of a deep, dark pit -- her life.
Become Beautifully Bold.
The biggest lie I ever swallowed was that I need to be selective with my love, with who I show my soul to, my self to. Protect, save and hoard my heart-treasures, my essence, and devise a complex set of criteria that require satisfying in an exact order before I slowly, and with great ...