When I was 18 years old I got into a relationship just before I graduated high school. I was about to go off to college, he wasn’t coming with me but we were together for almost two years after that. I thought it was love. But, I was wrong.  He was a jealous person and it emotionally drained me. I couldn’t talk to any other guys without looking over my shoulder and wondering “Is he mad? Does he think we are flirting? Should I stop talking to him?” This was exhausting. It made me feel like I

Let’s get to the point. People can really suck. They can be mean, deceitful, greedy and don’t always have your best interest at heart. Some people are nice to you because they want something from you. Some people just talk to you at the highs of your life but aren’t there for your lows. Not my dog. My dog wants nothing from me, besides, well, me. She wants my attention, my affection; all things I can offer her without having to question her motive. My dog simply wants to give love and to be

Women are interesting creatures. It’s true, we are. Our emotions can be all over the place and we can go from happy to sad in a matter of seconds. We know that and we understand you poor men don’t stand a chance. But just because we understand “Man, it must really suck being married to me sometimes” doesn’t mean we are capable of changing the way we are wired. Just know that you have some control. Let’s face it, you men can be complete boneheads and say the wrong thing at the worst time and

Friend zone. What an unfortunate label given to you by someone you have romantic interest in. It’s a box that you are locked in with no key to be found. You are doomed in having a happy ending with this person that you want so badly, (basically you don’t have a shot) and you have to watch this person go through heartbreak after heartbreak.  Not only will you watch these heartbreaks throughout the years, but you will be the person they run to in tears when they got dumped. (Let’s be honest

Mommy-hood. It's not easy, is it? Whether you are a stay at home mom or a mom with a 9-5, it can get pretty rough. But, who really works harder? A stay-at-home mom or a working mom? This topic has been covered on social media a number of times but I never really found the answer. I just read a bunch of comments from bickering moms telling each other who had it worse. Luckily for me, I’ve had the opportunity to be both of these things and I’ve concluded an answer. The right answer. The answer

BILLY Adjective  1. A term used to reference an out of control child accompanied by their Mother who does not give a flying fart in space. There is at least one Billy in every public place. Grocery store, zoo, family reunion, etc. The goal here is to eliminate the Billy's. Wipe 'em out. But this can't happen until this epidemic is addressed. Don't worry though, I will teach you how to identify the signs of a Billy and by the end of the article, you should be able to recognize the Billy's in

Everything was perfect. I visited you everyday for at least two hours. You were my escape. When I was sad, I turned to you. When I wanted to feel good about myself, I turned to you. When I was happy, I turned to you. Any mood I was in, you were there. I neglected a special part of me to be with you. It wasn't always easy, though. Some days I just didn't want to see you anymore. But I would push through the feelings hoping it was just something I was going through. The drive to see you was

Being a woman is hard. We live in a world that naturally goes against us, everything seems harder for us and we feel pressure to live up to the standards set by society in every aspect of our lives. One of the most unfortunate of all these things is the pressure women feel to be the media’s idea of beautiful. Do you ever find yourself constantly comparing yourself to other women? I wish I had her hair. Her body is beautiful, I could never have a body like that. Her face is so pretty, I wish

My daughter was born in February of 2014. My first born. My little girl. My heart. I remember seeing her for the first time and I felt nothing but joy. I didn't cry like I expected to, I laughed and excitedly said "She has my nose!" I held her and just admired, I did a lot of thinking, too. What will she be like? Will she be a spunky little tom boy like her Mommy? Or will she be soft spoken and slow to anger like her Daddy? Will she always have my nose? Gosh...I really hope she keeps my nose.