Elizabeth Broadbent

They call us bitches. We're too forward, or too loud. They say we're not ladylike. That we should shut up and sit down. And we should be content with what we've got — what else do we want, anyway? They say we're trying to be men. They say we hate men. But we say we're strong women, and they can go to hell. The internet glorifies strong women while slut-shaming out the other side of its mouth.

Like so many women, I never know what I’ll see in the mirror. Sometimes I catch sight of myself in a window and cringe, appalled at my own body.

Make-up is meant to make you more attractive. And in the case of little girls, attractive to whom? Pageant judges, for one. Dance judges. Cheerleading judges. People who are going to tell her if she’s good enough to win a trophy or not, in sports that typically objectify and sexualize little girls. Moms, step away from the powder puff.

Zoloft's long been known as the safest antidepressant to take during pregnancy. Most psychiatrists consider that if the patient needs drugs, Zoloft should be the first line of attack. And yet, some risks exist — some risks always exist.

There’s good evidence the anti-vaccine movement is growing.

I didn’t trumpet these views to my mommy groups, of course. I wasn’t crass. But when a girl let her daughter cry it out, I decided the tot seemed a tad withdrawn. When a mom told me all her sons were cut, I nodded politely while thinking, she is so deluded. She made up a medical excuse for a pass on child mutilation. When I saw mothers in the grocery store, carseats in tow, I paraded by, baby in wrap, nose in the air. At least those moms could see another option.

It’s a trend in the photography business, along with bestie shoots and cake smash pics: boudoir photos.

My ex-boyfriend was a groomsman at my wedding. Not just any ex-boyfriend, either –– the last one before I met my husband-to-be. My last fling was in the audience, too, and I didn't start to cry until I walked down the aisle and saw the tears standing in his eyes. He's not a crier, either.

When you insist on raising your kids to be colorblind, you're saying: I don’t want to see race.

My weight doesn’t make me something less, but something more: a beautiful woman.