Florida’s Legislature is poised to ban transgender girls and women — kindergarten through college-age — from competing throughout the state with cisgender female teammates.
Your best friend definitely has an opinion. You need advice and she offers an answer, though it might not be the one you seek.
There are two sides to every story. In politics, there's left and right; in fairy tales, it's good or evil.
What defines beauty? Does it differ from "pretty" or is it just another degree based on the look of ones' skin or depth of the eyes?
The girl who sits right behind you at school is really nice. She shares her things if you ask nicely, and she likes to make you laugh.
You were determined not to get bit. But in a totally different meaning of the word, you were equally determined that your horse would accept one.
There is no picket fence in front of your house. There's no singing milkman to bring your breakfast and the next-door neighbor doesn't coffee-klatsch with you every morning after your two-point-five kids go to school.
There's time for one last round. One for the road, as they say. A tip for the barkeep, a final toast before you go, one more clink before you drink, and, as in the new book "Last Call" by Elon Green, be careful on your way out the door.
Tomorrow's outfit is on a chair over there. That's where it's been since you last washed it.
Assume this position. Feet up, head back, fingers laced over your belly. Eyes shut. Teeth unclenched. And there you are: ready for a nap — if you dare, if you have your work finished, if you can ignore the nagging feeling that there are things left undone, if you can stop feeling judged.
The place is filled with balloons. They're floating near the ceiling, strings just out of reach for now, some on the floor.
And just like that – boom! – the awkwardness began.
Pick, pick, pick. If you're patient, that's how you break big things into very little ones.
Cover your nose and mouth.
Little kids have it so easy. Somebody feeds them when they're hungry, does their laundry, buys them toys, and plays with them.
Two wheels hooked. That was your vehicle: two wheels on the ground, the other two in the air, safely attached to a bar hooked on both ends to a big truck.
The applause is all for you this time. It's deafening, really – perhaps because there's a standing ovation beneath it.
The grass is greener on the other side of the fence.
The situation you're facing isn't one you wanted. You had no wish for it; in fact, it's 100% the opposite.
It's very common. Giving birth is so common, actually, that someone does it in the U.S. nearly 11,000 times a day — which means that it's really not much of a big deal, unless it's your baby.
You can barely stand to look. You open your eyes quick, though, and scan because you need to be informed but the news is sometimes hard to take lately.
The sins of the father shall be visited upon the son. That's what's said, that a son pays for his father's misdeeds, but maybe the old man didn't intend to leave a negative legacy.
You'd like an explanation, please. Why something is done or not, why permission is denied, you'd like to hear a simple reason.
You're allowed to change your mind. You grow, get a few experiences under your belt, and things might look a bit different.
Sometimes, you can't worry about other people's thoughts. You can listen to them but you don't have to hear them because there are days when making yourself happy supersedes any outside opinion; when you need to pay closer attention to yourself.
Please and Thank You. Those were The Magic Words you learned at your mother’s knee, the ones that opened doors and gained favors.
Life, as they say, is an open book. When you're born, someone else starts writing it for you, but it doesn't take long for you to be your own author.
You could become whatever you want to be.
You are the champion of all-time.
You spent days examining your life.
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