Escapism For Me Can Come In The

None Of My Actions Have Ever Sort Of Been Motored By The Search For A Husband Or Wondering If I Was Going To Have A Family Someday Or Wanting To Live In A Really Great House Or Thinking It Would Be Really Great To Have A Diamond.

I Didn't Tell Him I Was A Virgin, Just That I Hadn’t Done It “that Much.” It Hurt A Little More Than I'd Expected But In A Different Way, And He Was Nervous Too And He Never Came. Afterwards We Lay There And Talked, And I Could Tell He Was A Really Nice Person. I Commended Myself For Making A Healthy, Albeit Hasty, Partner Choice. I Really Couldn't Wait To Tell My Mom.

This Weird Pressure That Mothers Are Put Under, Like This Idea That If You Can't Breastfeed, You're Not Doing Something Properly, Or If You Choose Not To.

I Have Sort Of A Zen Body Philosophy, I'm Sort Of Like: We're One Weight One Day, We're One Weight Another Day, And Some Day Our Body Just Doesn't Even Exist At All! It's Just A Vessel I've Been Given To Move Through This Life. I Think About My Body As A Tool To Do The Stuff I Need To Do, But Not The Be All And End All Of My Existence. Which Sounds Like I Spent A Week At A Meditation Retreat, But It's Genuinely How I Feel.

It Completely Sickens Me What Our Culture Is Doing To Women. Last Week I Wore A Big Top And Little Shorts And A Bunch Of Stuff Came Out Saying I Was Without Pants. 'the No-pants Look,' It Said. And I Didn't Go Out Without Pants, I Had Shorts On... If Olivia Wilde Had Gone To A Party With A Big Silky Top And Little Shorts She Might Have Been Told Her Outfit Was Cute... What It Was Really: 'why Did You Show Us Your Thighs?'