Kenya Steven is a mama who is reclaiming and re-defining the feminine woman. Her ability to be true to herself is contagious.
After ten months, three days and an extremely difficult labor and aftermath, my little girl arrived, making each obstacle and every pain worth it. For her, I'd do it all again. In a heartbeat.
MotherWoman saved my life, my identity and my motherhood. MotherWoman was my missing piece, the place where I found myself and was given permission to...
On the day she was born, I whispered a very simple promise in her ear: "I will support your emotions, especially anger, every day of my life. All of you is welcome with me."
By Jennifer Shiao Page Last year, I made a career change and I'm now working for the University of Massachusetts, Amherst. But prior to that I had an...
There's something compelling about the narrative of the Difficult Mother. You know, the mother you love but who has never fully understood you or approved of you or validated your life. The mother you grew distant from, only to reconnect with later in life, perhaps after the birth of your child or the death of a loved one or a sign of your mother's oncoming frailty.
Right then and there my hormone-infested, self-absorbed, juvenile brain realized: My mother's sole purpose in life was not to accommodate mine, but that she in fact, had one of her own.
By Catharine McDonald, MS, NCC, LPC There is never a dull moment working in the psychiatric emergency department. I love the hustle and bustle, and ...
There are a lot of blogs on the Internet these days about parenting. Many of them come at motherhood or fatherhood from the angle of, am I a good parent? They are funny, honest and self-deprecating. I wish they had been around when I was raising kids but one thing I did have were good friends.
Moms of the World: Look up. There we are, looking back at you, nodding, smiling. You're in the thick of it, or it's just a thick day, and we get it.
Let's say that a child is born to a same-sex married couple (or registered domestic partnership or civil union). What do you think happens if that same couple later moved to a jurisdiction that fails to recognize their relationship?
It used to be that if there was a name aligned with "choice," it was Sophie. "Choice" is now and maybe forever associated with Angelina Jolie.
I am a wife, a mother and a mesothelioma warrior. I have a story to tell, one that starts with tragedy but ends in triumph.
By Kathy Morelli, LPC I thought I had outed myself. I thought I had reconciled my clinical self and my public self. I'd written about my struggle w...
Every now and then, the girls have actual conversations while we're cruising down the road, my favorite among them being "What are you going to be when you grow up?"
Heading into its second season, HBO's The Newsroom has been controversial since day one, and Adina Porter has been all the more thrilled to be involved as the sparks have flown.
The loneliness of that realization, that my daughter might have to shoulder the consequences of these stigmas, made me heartsick. I'd made myself believe she would only be challenged by her race and gender, not the basic ability to speak her mind.
I may have cried when I heard her stores were closing. Ok, I cried a lot. I cried so much that my husband had to create a special "Betsey Johnson Emergency Fund" that we used to purchase tons of Betsey Johnson items.
If you pay attention, kids will teach you how to laugh loudly, how to love deeply and how to live fully. They will also ruin all your stuff.
Flexible work options will define the future of the workplace. Corporate America will change -- it is already happening -- not just to accommodate the needs of working parents, but to accommodate the younger generations who have grown up on mobile devices.
So often in hearing the stories of women in my research I get a sense of mothers living on the ledge of their lives--out there all alone, sleep depriv...
Being my mother's only child has been a blessing and a curse. It has meant that I have been lucky enough to have her all to myself. All of her love, generosity and support. When obstacles began to come down our way, it meant that I was the only person who could love her as only a daughter can.
I came out the other side of this simple task more in love, more satisfied and more understanding of my family and myself than I ever had been before.
Where'd I go? What happened to the girl who wore high heels, and read books and listened to NPR? What happened to the girl who knew how to twerk and put on mascara and wrote an honors thesis, who called her friends on their birthdays, and kissed her partner goodnight?
I've always been what they call a "daddy's girl," and proud of it. "Daddy's girl" sounds smart, game, and winning. Daddy's girls know how to wrap ster...
