Since as early as 1600 BC women have been experimenting and cursed with the burden of contraception, and all of the dangerous physical and mental side affects that come with it. In the Ancient World women would go to extreme lengths to avoid pregnancy, including methods using stones, sodium carbonate, honey and a flower known as ‘Queen Anne’s Lace’ (which is still used as a herbal contraceptive method today in India). Since the rise of contraception in Britain in the 19th century, millions of women have faced side effects causing heart attacks, stroke, blood clots, and liver tumours due to hormonal contraceptives.

So I recently decided I wanted to stop taking contraception, well I decided years ago but I never actually stopped. Until now.

The Winter holidays tend to be stressful times for a large majority of people, even if they get excited by and look forward to the festivities. For women also coping with PMDD, however, this time of year can be a nightmare. I recently asked a handful of women with PMDD what they most struggled with during the holidays. Here's what they shared along with some possible solutions:

They told you that you weren’t beautiful and that made you angry. Then they had the nerve to call you manly and that made you angrier. Next, as if that weren’t enough, they chastised you for being angry, berating you with appellations such as attitudinal and bitter, and that sent you into a rage. It was a rage that you have every right to be in, because you are, essentially, a victim who has been disrespected in every way. But, while before mentioned folks might be causing you quite the angst, quite the annoyance and are factors you could certainly do without, in all totality, they are actually correct.

There are women who love the women, but love the men more. They seem consoling and balletic, but are mask-less spectators proffering a speech about a pseudo notion of love towards women, while honoring men who cross-question the necessities of the same women they will forever claim they love. These women will conceal their emotions indicating any support for the woman with a past and a confession. Her confessions lie within the constructs of being believed and being somewhat forgiven by the women who needed her to retire from stories of abuse.

My earliest memories consist of being at my grandma’s house and playing barbies with my cousins. Legos, barbies, and cartoons all children like myself wanted... But why did he start touching me like that? What makes someone think to do that to a young child? Did he learn that from someone else or did it happen to him as well? Regardless of the reason, it was happening to me... I never really understood what was going on just that it happened often and not by only one person.. My whole life has been sexualized, I just can’t get away from it. It happened for 5 years I grew up with it... being touched in between my legs had become the norm for me.. playing daddy and mommy, being a patient, being a toy... I’m not even sure how I feel about it even today... He and they took something from me but I don’t remember what it was or if I can even say I’ve ever had it... is that why I’m so messed up now? Am I trying to heal myself by being messed up in the head today? Doubtful... It took him getting caught by his sister for me to finally talk up. She knew what he was doing to me. She recognized what he was doing, because he had done that to her too... my cousin a few yours older than myself knew what her big brother was doing to me and wanted to stop him... she saw a 9 year old girl being taken advantage of, I wonder what went through her mind.. no one talks about it anymore so I can’t just ask her...

They told you that you weren’t beautiful and that made you angry. Then they had the nerve to call you manly and that made you angrier. Next, as if that weren’t enough, they chastised you for being angry, berating you with appellations such as attitudinal and bitter, and that sent you into a rage. It was a rage that you have every right to be in, because you are, essentially, a victim who has been disrespected in every way. But, while before mentioned folks might be causing you quite the angst, quite the annoyance and are factors you could certainly do without, in all totality, they are actually correct.

We are about to enter the Holiday Season. It kicks off with Black month, formerly knowns as Black Friday, followed by Thanksgiving, St. Nick’s Day Dec 6, Chanukah, Christmas, Kwanza, New Year’s Eve and finally New Year’s Day. Later in the year, other holidays are also celebrated.

I’m going to be straight for a second: I get a really heavy flow. Ever since the miracle of womanhood first hit—imagine me, a pimpled, chubby twelve year old, cursing the universe for endowing her gift during gymnastics class—I’ve dealt with the difficulties of a heavy period.

The #AsSheIs Challenge has swept Instagram by storm through the Miss Universe/Miss USA Organization, sharing the Live Life Unfiltered initiative. The “challenge” is to empower women to be as they are. As many of us have read, social media is linked to a significant increase in depression, suicide, anxiety, and body image issues. The mission of #AsSheIs is to remind women that we all have insecurities and bad days, despite what Instagram may portray.

Today, Toni Morrison transitioned from living legend to ancestor.

This piece was originally published on Medium.

Melissa Benoist recently admitted she was a part of a larger statistic.

Fifty years after the rise of the feminist movement, fewer than 2% of public places in the United States are named after a woman. Society has long paid tribute to famous people by naming a city, or, a building after them. The contributions of women, however, go unrecognized, at least when it comes to putting their name a on building. This tells our daughters their half of the population only warrants 2% of the public recognition.

I am the survivor of many years of documented domestic abuse and recently filed for a divorce. Unfortunately, the court system is stacked against the victim/survivor because we often lack the resources necessary to hire competent representation and if we can, the attorney’s lack of sensitivity toward their clients. This can make it very uncomfortable for both, because the attorneys client is dealing with issues they know nothing about, which causing more trauma and many times victim-shaming by the person who is supposed to be protecting them, without them even realizing it. This often causes a PTSD response from the victim/survivor making the attorney think their client is literally out of their mind half the time and making the victim/survivor not trust the attorney to know what is best for them.

She Ain’t Pretty (Thank god)

Sitting in my kitchen, so nervous I was shaking, I decided to shave my head. I remember all the weeks I had paced about within the confines of my mind, rolling the idea around like marbles, popping the 'yes' and 'no' in and out of the realm of possibility. Around this time, I had suffered a tremendous breakup, and in my acts of stress, I resorted to my cyclical shaving and dyeing and re-dyeing and growing... and found myself with about two inches of growth, and pastel pink locks.

For those of you who don't know, I am currently working with Queens and Future Queens (a non-profit organization determined to assist young girls in becoming future leaders through mentorship programs consisting of female CEOs, CFOs, etc. of big companies as well as inspirational speakers, artist, etc.) to create an event called Champions for Change Leadership Awards 2020. Now one of the things I needed to do was find empowering music for women to feature at the event and I found one song that really made me think. The song is "Strip" by Little Mix.

My earliest memories consist of being at my grandma’s house and playing barbies with my cousins. Legos, barbies, and cartoons all children like myself wanted... But why did he start touching me like that? What makes someone think to do that to a young child? Did he learn that from someone else or did it happen to him as well? Regardless of the reason, it was happening to me... I never really understood what was going on just that it happened often and not by only one person.. My whole life has been sexualized, I just can’t get away from it. It happened for 5 years I grew up with it... being touched in between my legs had become the norm for me.. playing daddy and mommy, being a patient, being a toy... I’m not even sure how I feel about it even today... He and they took something from me but I don’t remember what it was or if I can even say I’ve ever had it... is that why I’m so messed up now? Am I trying to heal myself by being messed up in the head today? Doubtful... It took him getting caught by his sister for me to finally talk up. She knew what he was doing to me. She recognized what he was doing, because he had done that to her too... my cousin a few yours older than myself knew what her big brother was doing to me and wanted to stop him... she saw a 9 year old girl being taken advantage of, I wonder what went through her mind.. no one talks about it anymore so I can’t just ask her...

Deep breath in. Hold. Hold it in. Suck more air until you feel light-headed. Keep your eyes focused on your stomach in the mirror, getting smoother and more toned with each inhale. Keep holding, don’t let go. You want that flat tummy, those wide-but-not-too-wide hips, that hourglass silhouette. But eventually you have to exhale. You have to let go.

I would first like to start this off by saying this isn't a hypothetical analysis on what the potential effects sexual misconduct can have on a victim. I am here as a victim of sexual assault. I speak on behalf of experience.

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.

Priya’s Shakti, a superheroine online comic from India, stands out in the world because of its impact. UN Women named her a Gender Equity Champion. It’s the first comic of its time to confront teenagers with the reality of sexual violence. This free comic is available online, translated into many languages and adapted into many formats at https://www.priyashakti.com .

A few years ago it came to our attention that female statues of actual, real women who lived (have a name and birth date) were underrepresented compared to the men. The media coverage seem to be focused on New York City. I started researching the entire United States to see how many I could actually find.

This is a man’s world, sang James Brown more than half a decade ago.

Let’s pick up a few shifts, as a side hustle while in school, I thought to myself. After all, working as a bartender or server in a high end restaurant in a big city can yield some nice cash. If you’re a student or at the beginning of a career with many expenses and zero third party support, making some extra bucks to alleviate the struggle is appealing. However, it comes at a price.

Despite the various challenges that women still face in the workplace, many industries have seen significant growth in the number of female employees over the past 40 years. Although sexual harassment, lack of mentoring and stereotypes based on gender roles continue to be a problem, more women are joining industries that have been historically dominated by men. The STEM (science, technology, engineering and mathematics) sector in particular, are seeing more and more women join the ranks. Here are some of the largest fields.

A bare stage. Slowly, a single pool of light to the far left side lights up. It is a perfect circle. Gradually, the intensity of the light brightens, threatening to blind us for a moment until it dims down to tolerance. We wait for a minute until a second pool of light comes up in line with the first on the right side of the stage. This does the same as the first light, brightening with much intensity but then returns to tolerance. Finally, the last pool of light glows in between the others far upstage and center, to reveal the silhouette of A NAKED MAN standing in a tub of water. His back is turned to us. The NAKED MAN can be a father, a brother, a lover, a rapist, or a photographer. We don’t know. What we do know is that the light he is in doesn’t get brighter. It just obeys the laws of darkness, and is barely lit, leaving the man in an uncomfortable night. From stage left, A GIRL walks in backwards, holding an empty leash in her left hand and a basket in the other. She seems to be looking for something, or searching for someone—perhaps the animal that belongs on the leash, or the food that belongs in the basket. This too, we do not know. What we do know is that the basket is white, and the leash is white with red. Both were made to be white, but a crimson design lives on the collar of the leash. The crimson is blood. A GIRL steps into the first stage left pool of light, and blinks eight times in an attempt to clear her vision. She inhales deeply. The sound of her inhale is magnified, and the tiny breath can be heard from six directions. A DRUNK enters from upstage, passes the NAKED MAN, and joins the GIRL, dressed in an elegant evening gown made of green silk. Her wet hair hangs on her cheeks, and she appears to be very pregnant, stretching the delicate fabric too thin around her swollen belly. The two speak.

There have been a lot of articles saying that woman collect DNA from every man they ever slept with (even in their brain), all of these articles seemed to be case off of one study which... isn't exactly about what I thought it would. For one, the study does not once mention sexual intercourse as a potential reason why woman may carry 'male' cells. If anything, the study suggests that these 'male' cells are from their sons. Yes, sons! Mothers who have carried baby boys for nine months. Another theory mentioned that these 'male' cells came from an older brother, which they also while they were still in the womb. So... NO! These stories about gaining DNA from every man you have had sex with is still yet another mis-use and inaccurate use of scientific research targeting woman with a sexuality because... sexism!

We all want to believe that a rapist is an undeniable monster. A person who is so easy to pick out in the crowd for being an undeniable creep. They are that stranger in the dark alley or lurking in the bushes. Some despicable man with no semblance of soul or care for other human beings that lives to attack women because he couldn't be with a woman otherwise.

There are women who love the women, but love the men more. They seem consoling and balletic, but are mask-less spectators proffering a speech about a pseudo notion of love towards women, while honoring men who cross-question the necessities of the same women they will forever claim they love. These women will conceal their emotions indicating any support for the woman with a past and a confession. Her confessions lie within the constructs of being believed and being somewhat forgiven by the women who needed her to retire from stories of abuse.

It’s no secret that "feminism" is something of a dirty word to a lot of people, to the point that “feminist” can be considered an insult (Waugh 2015). But where does this come from? Is the movement that started with women getting the right to vote (Ruiz) and progressed into fighting against environmental destruction (We Rise; Kapoor 2015; Ruiz), capitalist oppression (We Rise; Red Letter Press 2007; Kapoor 2015; Ruiz), and racism (We Rise; IWDA 2018) really such a terrible thing?

So for those that don't know, I am an Ismaili Muslim and, like the Christian concept of Sunday school, we have religious education on Saturdays. Now the teachers are expected to go through training to ensure that we teach the students facts and accurate information, rather than opinions or perspectives. However, when I went into this training I realized that there was a fault in the training itself. Within teaching the facts, we somehow twisted the perspective based on emotional bias. When I was pitted against the trainer and the other teachers trying to explain my perspective, I felt something inside of me shift. The perspective you teach the students, regardless of the intent, does impact their view and emotional outlook on life because your emotional outlook on life will end up showing.

Since as early as 1600 BC women have been experimenting and cursed with the burden of contraception, and all of the dangerous physical and mental side affects that come with it. In the Ancient World women would go to extreme lengths to avoid pregnancy, including methods using stones, sodium carbonate, honey and a flower known as ‘Queen Anne’s Lace’ (which is still used as a herbal contraceptive method today in India). Since the rise of contraception in Britain in the 19th century, millions of women have faced side effects causing heart attacks, stroke, blood clots, and liver tumours due to hormonal contraceptives.

They told you that you weren’t beautiful and that made you angry. Then they had the nerve to call you manly and that made you angrier. Next, as if that weren’t enough, they chastised you for being angry, berating you with appellations such as attitudinal and bitter, and that sent you into a rage. It was a rage that you have every right to be in, because you are, essentially, a victim who has been disrespected in every way. But, while before mentioned folks might be causing you quite the angst, quite the annoyance and are factors you could certainly do without, in all totality, they are actually correct.

As a journalist, I realize that everything has nuance. Nothing can be understood from just one single perspective. This leads me to my potentially controversial opinion that while having children is a gift, it is also a burden that many of us do not want to have. And women are tired of being shamed for knowing ourselves well enough to understand what types of lives we want to lead.

So I recently decided I wanted to stop taking contraception, well I decided years ago but I never actually stopped. Until now.

The Winter holidays tend to be stressful times for a large majority of people, even if they get excited by and look forward to the festivities. For women also coping with PMDD, however, this time of year can be a nightmare. I recently asked a handful of women with PMDD what they most struggled with during the holidays. Here's what they shared along with some possible solutions:

UK's definition of Endometriosis is:

This Changes Everything is new in theatres and should be required viewing for all women, girls, and anyone in the entertainment industry. Tom Donahue's discussion of the lack of female representation behind the camera is well-structured, compelling, clear, and concise. Though it doesn't necessarily tell us anything we haven't been hearing for years, it’s (hopefully) still enough to get people listening. It reiterates that men outnumber women in film in almost every department and, while the Me Too movement has pulled many peoples' heads out of their asses, we still have a long way to go before the representation on a film set matches the demographics that represent our society.

She gazed out her office window and sighed. She had no idea how she was going to handle her workload today. Those she supervised had their own cases to deal with so there was no dividing her work among them. Normally when she walked into her office, she made herself a cup of tea and jumped right in. But this day, a nagging headache made her too tired to even pick up a file. She opened her desk drawer to get an aspirin. But the bottle wasn’t there. Then she remembered: She took the aspirin bottle home the day before with the intention of purchasing a new bottle. She must have forgotten. Jane Wisdom left her office to walk to a store on Barrington Street to get some aspirin. It was December 16, 1917 in Halifax, Canada. Jane pulled her coat around her as a chill breeze surrounded her on her walk. The scent of the harbor wafted along that breeze: the smell of water, smoke, and iron from the ships passing through the Narrows, the strait connecting Halifax Harbour and Bedford Basin. Though she was 1.8 miles (3 km) south of the Harbour a clear, cold day like today carried the scents throughout Halifax. Like most people who lived and worked near the harbor, Jane was accustomed to the sights, smells and sounds of the ships that traversed the waters. At precisely 9:04:35 AST (Atlantic Time Zone), just before she reached the drugstore, Jane lost her footing as the ground beneath her shook. A tremendous boom! reached her ears amidst the shattering of glass storefront windows along the street. She cried out and reached for a wall to keep herself from falling. Born March 1, 1884, Jane was influenced by the Social Gospel of her Presbyterian upbringing. The Social Gospel focused on utilizing social involvement to assist those in need, such as the impoverished and those suffering alcohol abuse. She attended McGill University in Montreal and got a taste for professional social work. Though social work was well established in England and the United States, it was still a new concept in Canada. She attended Columbia’s New York School of Philanthropy to earn a diploma in the field of social work. She took her diploma and knowledge back to Canada. She worked for the Montreal Charity Organization, helping families assess needs and resources. She was offered a position as secretary general for the Halifax Welfare Bureau. The first thing she did was to create a social welfare agency consisting of charitable organizations in the area. Ever hands-on, she continued working individual cases and supervising other workers. The scene around Jane was utter chaos: people running, crying out in fear and pain: glass shards from broken windows littered the street and sidewalk. Whatever had happened had thrown everyone into a panic. Instincts prevailed as she ran to a man who had fallen nearby. She attended to a gash in his forehead, watching as smoke began to drift over the city. A new smell entered the atmosphere: the acrid scent of smoke from a fire. Her first concern was for the people of Halifax. Just from those she saw on Barrington Street, many of them needed medical attention. Some were on the verge of hysteria. She could only imagine how many more people needed assistance in the area. She knew the world was at war. Was it possible Halifax had been bombed? But the blast Jane heard had not come from a bomb. Two ships had collided in the Narrows: a Norwegian vessel, the SS Imo and the SS Mont-Blanc, a French cargo ship loaded with high explosives. The impact of the collision damaged benzol barrels on the deck of the Mont-Blanc. This released vapors which ignited during the collision, setting off an explosion aboard the ship. Structures within a half-mile radius were destroyed. Pressure waves from the blast snapped trees, bent iron rails and grounded ships. A tsunami created from the blast entirely wiped out the Mi’kmaq First nation living in the Tufts Cove. Fragments from the Mont-Blanc were spread for miles. Two thousand people were killed. Nine thousand more were injured. Upon learning what had happened, Jane was numbed by the realization that, had she been in her office, she would have been killed by the implosion of the glass windows beside her desk. But she knew there was no time to lose. She was the only trained professional social worker in Nova Scotia. Gathering more than sixty local charity workers, they created a food distribution system, depots for the distribution of clothing and blankets and applications for food and coal. Jane worked tirelessly for the first twenty-four hours after the disaster, organizing workers for distribution of supplies and to go street-by-street making lists of survivors and their whereabouts. Those first twenty-four hours following the worst disaster on Canadian soil were critical in the recovery of the people of Halifax. Jane’s efforts brought attention to the need for relief efforts – not only in time of disaster – but also relief to those in need in general. It was Jane’s belief that a social work system should help create jobs, assist with education and medical needs, and help with recreation for the indigent. A broad scope of social work such as this had not been achieved, but her vision formed the foundation upon which modern social work is based. After the Halifax explosion, Jane worked as a Supervisor for the Rehabilitation Department of the Halifax Relief Commission, organizing Community Houses for survivors of the explosion. In the years after the Halifax Explosion, Jane worked as the director of the Halifax Relief Commission’s Social Service Department. She acted as liaison between the local charity sector and the more official governmental side of charity work, enabling them to benefit from each other. She worked on the Nova Scotia Provincial Commission focusing primarily on women’s issues: Mother’s Allowances and wages and working conditions of women in factories. She eventually returned to McGill University where she was an instructor part time of the social case work in the Department of Social Science and School of Social Work. She then worked for the Women’s Directory of Montreal, specializing in the care of single parent families. Ending up in Glace Bay, Jane studied the social conditions in the coal mining town. She remained in Glace Bay as the town’s first social worker, developing their program of social services. She retired in 1952 to Sutherlands River, Pictou County. On December 16, 1917, Jane Wisdom was in the right place at the right time. For want of an aspirin. The historical portrayals are fictionalized, powered by pure imagination. Pen is a published author with 30+ titles to her credit. A biography of Jane Wisdom is included in Legacies and Legends, Women Who Dared to Make History, Volume 1. Please also visit Nero’s Fiddle for more books by Pen.

Cleopatra. Name brings up many words: seductress, selfish, mistress, harlot, and many other negative words. What about smart or great ruler? Yes, she might have died without insuring her country's independence, but she did all she could to try to accomplish it. She was wickedly intelligent and knew how to use her feminine ways to get what she wanted. If Caesar had not died she could have accomplished all she wanted for herself and for her people. Cleopatra was truly one of the greatest pharaohs of Egypt. She had the makings of a great world conqueror and general, always thinking ahead, knowing her opponent, and being intelligible. And as said in The 100 Most Influential Women of All Time “it was both her desire and ambition that made her the Queen of Kings.”

Pissed off and in pain.

The birth control patch is one method of birth control that uses a release of hormones to prevent pregnancy. It is a beige patch that is stuck to the skin. The user wears the patch for a week before replacing it with a new patch. This is done for three weeks in a row and then a week break is taken for menstruation.

I decided to buy my first collection of affirmation cards and I ended up choosing one called She Believed She Could, So She Did byPeter Pauper Press Inc. However, I realized even before buying them that I can't see all of the cards that come inside. Since I took the chance anyway and had them delivered to my doorstep, now it's my turn to let you know what cards come in this pack and what I thought about them.

“You know the problem with you women, women don’t know what it takes to keep a man. Women need to learn how to keep a man.”

He had a dark look on his face, his nose was upturned and he was scowling down at something long and skinny in his hands. I cleared my throat and asked if everything was ok and that seemed to snap him back into reality. His eyes shot up to me and look of disgust crossed his face. His hand lowered slightly and I could see the positive pregnancy test in his had. He threw it down at my feet.

In this day and age, we need to relearn what consent is. In the Netflix show 13 Reasons Why, one of the main characters (Bryce) said: "I could tell she wanted it and she didn't exactly say no." That's such a young guy way of thinking, and some men never grow out of that. They can't wrap their minds around why women don't want sex with them all the time. Men also don't understand why women don't want sex to be the focus of a relationship. You will not die if you don't get sex when you want it. Not every girl is going to want you... shocker, I know. Now I know not all men think the way I just described. There are decent men out there. It's not just men that need to learn about consent either, we all do.