As I meet the New Year and all the cultural messaging around self-discipline, I'm resolute in my own way: to preserve January as a sanctuary for reflection.
What you don’t realize is that she finally knows what she’s doing with food. After years of trying and failing, she knows when to say No. She knows why and how to say it too. And that girl, the one I’m talking about, she has to say No a lot. A lot more than you think she does. But it’s not your ...
I see your hurt and hunger. I support your right to stand up and be counted. I champion your individuality and unique glory. For every scar that is stamped onto your being, a remnant makes its way to mine.
I had never heard of Aldous Huxley; the closest I’d got to magic was Harry Potter, which I took as pure fiction. Then my best friend, who was having similar experiences through various white powders, told me about The Secret.
Courage moves through the chaos, one steady step at a time. Your heartache is like a free fall. You can scramble to fill the void, grabbing for whatever fix you can to numb the jagged edges. You can also persevere with quiet dignity. In every moment there are choices, even in survival mode.