I was fourteen when I had my first period. I guess it makes sense that I was a late bloomer-- I’ve always felt one step behind, a little bit out of the loop. Whether it was the hottest new album or how to start taking care of my changing body (is it possible to apply too much deodorant?), it always seemed like my peers were one step ahead of me.

Menstruation, commonly referred to as a period, is a part of the fertility process for vulvas. Once a cycle, the lining of the uterus prepares the possibility of pregnancy by filling the lining with thick and rich blood vessels. This rich lining provides support to a fertilized egg to begin growing into a fetus.

Contraceptive injection is a form of hormonal birth control. It’s a shot that vulva people can get to prevent unwanted pregnancies. The shot is given in the arm or butt every twelve weeks. It’s sometimes referred to as the birth control shot. There are different brand names available but the most common and well known is the Depo-Provera Shot, also sometimes called the Depo Shot.

Let's start off with what The Letter project is.

Living in a time that seems dire and down right lonely some days, I’m reflecting on past times where feminine liberation was shared among sisters. Whilst I may be blessed to have been “forced” to move back home and back with my partner, I can’t help but yearn for the care free liberators of nude empowerment movements.

Today, Lady Gaga, a latest music video with dress, fashion latex pink sugar, metallic and rose gold. pink latex boots. Video Lady Gaga song ‘Stupid Love’.

Hey Gurlll & Welcome To The Safe Zone!

Do you have a uterus? Do you sometimes feel anxious, experience sexual desire, or ‘cause trouble for others’? Well, then, you may just be suffering from Wandering Womb Syndrome! Yes, that’s right, it’s totally possible that your womb has taken a mind of it’s own and started to wander freely around your body, causing all kinds of mischief…

I only knew her for a week.

Listen.

The world has changed, but not yet for the best, especially for women. Though the condition is now much better than it was centuries ago, we are still far from our goal of equality between men and women. There is absolutely no reason for women to die at the rate they are dying today.

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Let's start off with what The Letter project is.

I love where I work. It’s a great company that takes care of their employees and treats them like family. They have given me great opportunities to grow in my new career, even though I have only been employed there for a few months. I have a career in vehicle service at a car dealership, a field that is mostly done by men. No big deal to me, but I get comments quite often about how “It’s great to see women working here.” I take that as a compliment because it makes me feel accomplished. I get those nice compliments from mostly women. I think that is because they can establish trust easier with another woman versus a man, but I may be mistaken. Most of my male customers have been very nice to me and treated me with respect, minus a select few. Usually I can handle this disrespect from customers no problem, but the other day we had a situation that I will never tolerate: sexism towards me and another one of my female co-workers.

I’ve closely watched the narratives for weeks now, and I’ve noticed the beauty in reimagining what a “hero” is on this virus-ridden planet. The selfless care of nurses, the unwavering strength of some protesters, and the thoughtfulness of teachers have all had an audience willing to thank them for what they are doing for others in need. By these unwritten rules, this should include three Black women who personified care, compassion, and strength before they were killed in a country that failed to fully exchange these same qualities to them. Breonna Taylor, Erica Garner, and Atatiana Jefferson. DISCLAIMER: I am not here to ask for chaos. But, I’m willing to respectfully check people who plead for fairness, while cashing out on forgetfulness when it involves Black people. Remove all racist stipulations and dive into your imagination with me, and imagine a nation, truly consistent in praising people who give their all to bettering our world.

I am a woman, a black woman at that. I feel being a black woman is beauty mixed with pain. Some people, mostly men drool and get hard over the ones that have an hourglass figure with their brown skin glowing like the sun. Those are the ones mostly put all over the gram, the web, and magazines that people get.

Several makeup brands have misrepresented women of color for years. Personally, I do not wear a lot of make up. I'm a simple kind of gal who only beats her face for the occasion. I like to experiment with a little bit of concealer and foundation. Also, I crave lip-gloss and mascara. Unfortunately, when I shop for makeup it's hard to find my shade. Usually, I have to mix (experiment) with colors to find the match for my skin. I should have more options as a woman of color.

I remember looking at myself in the mirror when I was a kid and thinking how ugly I was and how I couldn’t wait to be able to afford plastic surgery.

Living in a time that seems dire and down right lonely some days, I’m reflecting on past times where feminine liberation was shared among sisters. Whilst I may be blessed to have been “forced” to move back home and back with my partner, I can’t help but yearn for the care free liberators of nude empowerment movements.

It was a cold day in December. We had just passed our one year anniversary. We made plans to do this about a month ago, but that didn’t make it any easier. I step on the bus and there he is, smile beaming like always when we lock eyes. His black roxy hat backwards covering his chocolate brown hair. His deep brown eyes sparkling, showing that the smile is pure. His 5’8 body dressed in the usual outfit. Blue jeans ripped at the bottom around his black DC sneakers. A black zip up sweatshirt with camo print on the inside, a sweatshirt I borrowed and once felt safe in, with a black green day t-shirt on under it. I sit next to him and lean my head on his shoulder. The scent of axe dark temptation filling my nostrils. A smell I loved.

As I’m writing this, I’m currently locked down in the UK, living full time in a van. And this experience has taught me so many things. It’s taught me that some people are miserable, life-sucking bastards and if they cracked a smile, it would literally kill them. And I’ve learned that other people are really decent human beings who genuinely don’t judge. 

Alex Haley, the author of the best selling book Roots. also wrote a book named for his paternal grandmother, titled Queen, the story of an American family. Each book was turned into a made for television mini series. Queen, aired over three nights in February 1993 on CBS. Alex Haley died before the book was completed and it was finished by his co author David Stevens. I’ve watched the mini series three times and read the book at least five times. I find the story of this woman to be simply fascinating. Since March is women’s history month I decided to celebrate this woman in American history who I believe is very inspiring. According to Wikepedia, David Stevens said he had hundreds of pages of notes that Haley’s left behind, but he completed the book mostly from the memory of conversations he had with the heroine’s grandson.

As you read the tales of the Japanese culture on geishas, you are taken on a self-identity journey. This era of Japan is where entertainment and a patriarchal society begin to go hand in hand. This book imprinted on all its international readers because it touched every culture controversy that made outsiders raise their eyes. In the told tale you find themes of sex taboos, foot-binding, child neglect, adaptation, and perfectionism in outstanding reach. These events being true and someone actually living through them evokes a greater amount of emotion. Some chapters are more heart-wrenching than others. The journey begins with the passing of the mother; Chiyo is the main character and she is sold to a geisha house by her father.

As the world keeps spinning and one or two cars buzz by, what is the best way to remember the amazing women who make other women? Well I have a quote that I made up. Would you like to hear it? Of course you do, well it goes like this, "Beauty is just a mask you hide behind but the true beauty is you're creative and you're imagination and how you bring it to the world". The wonderful woman who inspires me to be a creative and out of the box is my favorite actress Meryl Streep. She inspired me to be an actress myself and I'm very passionate about it and I know I have what it takes to be one.

I have been in the workplace for over forty years, I have been sexually harassed and discriminated against more times than I care to remember. Who hasn’t right? The only thing new here is that my perpetrators were other females. I know right. We don't typically hear this. In the workplace, it's usually accusations from a female against a male counterpart. I am here now to say that sexual harassment and discrimination in the workplace is a two-way street, equal oppportunity offence. Over the years I have felt harassed and discriminated against many times, and yes I was harassed because I was female. My harassment came from the hands of other women. I have been victim to bullying, conspiring, gossiping, isolation, control, betrayal, withheld opportunities, right down to termination.

We live in a day when women are struggling. They are fighting, tooth and nail, to prove something, to this world, and to themselves. We are living in a world, where the woman of old are looked down upon, considered as weak, second rate, hiding in the shadows of men.

I came across an article online posted on Elite Daily. Author Alexia LaFata apparently thinks it is “completely okay to objectify men” because men are always the oppressors and women are always the oppressed. LaFata emphasizes on the existence of “the male gaze,” which is the idea that women are portrayed as sexual objects to satisfy a straight, male audience. Notice how I made the previous words bold and italicized, because LaFata just loves to stress on straightness and maleness.

When I began junior or high school in seventh grade, Carol was in the eight grade. She was a pretty girl, about 5”7 inches tall slender and popular. She had shoulder length blonde hair and hazel eyes and was a cheerleader. She was actually the captain of the group. Looking back I would say she resembled Marcia Brady from the television show The Brady Bunch, only a few inches taller. I would see her walking through the halls of school with her hair bouncing on her shoulders, often with an enterauge of other cheerleaders with her. I was a shy teen and would imagine what it must be like to be so pretty and popular.

It’s far too easy to assume that I would be just another twenty-something with a chip on my shoulder. But, you see, you would be right to assume that. Obviously, the world has ‘done me wrong’ and all that stuff that millennials say all the time. It doesn’t help us (by the way).

Hey Gurlll & Welcome To The Safe Zone!

Women. We are so powerful that many wish to suppress us. We are told many things growing up.

Gender roles have been established through society, mainly marking men as the dominant figure and women as the submissive figures. As time has passed by, insinuations of how women and men should act have become expected behaviors by society, such that if one should oppose society itself would brand that person as an outcast; for example the expected role of a father being the dominant figure in a family - this is often called the Patriarchal Culture. This societal structure has led to society not being able to progress through the years, raising insecurities among men and competition against one another. Through the story, Arabian Nights: The Sultan and His Vow, the characters’ interactions provide insight into the toxic traits that make up a patriarchal culture and the negative concept of masculinity.

As I looked around, the overwhelm hit me. I had that airless, choking feeling – it started in my heart, but soon had me reaching for my asthma inhaler.

I was fourteen when I had my first period. I guess it makes sense that I was a late bloomer-- I’ve always felt one step behind, a little bit out of the loop. Whether it was the hottest new album or how to start taking care of my changing body (is it possible to apply too much deodorant?), it always seemed like my peers were one step ahead of me.

Menstruation, commonly referred to as a period, is a part of the fertility process for vulvas. Once a cycle, the lining of the uterus prepares the possibility of pregnancy by filling the lining with thick and rich blood vessels. This rich lining provides support to a fertilized egg to begin growing into a fetus.

Contraceptive injection is a form of hormonal birth control. It’s a shot that vulva people can get to prevent unwanted pregnancies. The shot is given in the arm or butt every twelve weeks. It’s sometimes referred to as the birth control shot. There are different brand names available but the most common and well known is the Depo-Provera Shot, also sometimes called the Depo Shot.

Equal rights, equal opportunity. It seems that the crusade of women to prove that they are competent enough to run businesses, intelligent enough to invest in stock markets, ruthless enough to be the head of a corporation that sells manly stuff, might not be entirely accurate.

Do you have a uterus? Do you sometimes feel anxious, experience sexual desire, or ‘cause trouble for others’? Well, then, you may just be suffering from Wandering Womb Syndrome! Yes, that’s right, it’s totally possible that your womb has taken a mind of it’s own and started to wander freely around your body, causing all kinds of mischief…

Birth control. For one a miracle cure, for another hell on earth. Since the birth of the pill, many different variants of the contraceptive have appeared, each with its own side effects.

Periods are a weird topic. Some people get too into it and some people get too grossed out by it. Honestly, it's a normal part of the female reproductive system, so get over it. If you get skeeved out by blood and feminine product talk, then this article is not for you.

I first started taking birth control because my periods were so heavy and long. I started with the pill, I think it worked for awhile but I always forgot to take my pill so it just wasn't the right one for me.

I would like to think that I am unique, but maybe you have similar experiences. At my age it is easy to say that I have an extensive dating resume. Think back to all of the guys you dated, had sex with, kissed, touched, dreamt about. What would your dating resume reveal about you?

Were I a grandfather clock, female friendships would be the pendulum keeping time ticking; keepers of (life)time, friendships lodged deep in my core – suspended, swaying, rooted.

Let me be completely candid with you, dear reader: I have never been familiar with romantic relationships. Call it whatever you like– shyness, fear, awkwardness– I hadn’t so much as even been asked out by someone. For the majority of my life thus far, I have been incredibly #single, so when my friend Jen (name changed for anonymity, of course) asked me for relationship advice, my response was, “Why? Mine literally happened on accident.”