2017 was a tough year. Particularly if you were employed by the White House where job security was fictitious and tenure was determined by the whims of an oligarch.

Those in my life can attest to the frequent incredulousness with which I move through the world. Generally I do know why things are the way they are, but it rarely tempers my awe that the things that happen, actually happen. The details of this world still find a way to flatten me. There are women who run around…

After watching the entirety of Girls (twice), and considering it these past few weeks in particular as I’ve kept apace with the final season, I find I have twenty minutes to write about it here and don’t quite have the words to express what it meant to me—the joy, the uncontrollable laughter, the recognition, and deep…

I moved to New York two days before starting work at Gawker in the fall of 2014. When I walked up the stairs to the office in Soho I was acutely unsure of how to hold my body so I wouldn’t seem terrified: the only person I knew in the building was Emma, who had taken me to Jezebel from the Hairpin, where it had just…

It was at my six-weeks-postpartum appointment that someone in the birth world finally admitted what we all fear to be true: vaginal birth can ruin your vagina, even might ruin it—and, in my case, did. The doc inserted the type of speculum she’d always used on me in the past, then took it back out, turned to the nurse,…

This is gonna be short because I like my goodbyes like my birth control: nonexistent and followed by a prayer.

Do you miss Bunheads? You do! Here's a goodbye video of the cast performing Elton John’s “Blues for Baby and Me" that can act as a balm during your extended mourning period.