Britni de la Cretaz

I want my child to be able to self-determine. What that means to me is that they know they have options besides the “default” one that’s plastered all over their TV screens, and that they always know that.

When my husband and I looked at the screen in the ultrasound room and saw that we were having a girl, we both breathed a sigh of relief. Not because we didn’t want to have a boy, but because it meant the circumcision debate was off the table.

Boston.com recently published an incredibly offensive hit-piece mocking Sandoval and making fat jokes, complete with accompanying photos that showed Sandoval’s stomach hanging over the top of his pants as he threw a baseball. It was lazy and offensive at best, but dangerous at worst.

Making the decision to get sober is never easy. Actually getting sober is even harder. So much has to change about the way you live your life in order to maintain, and it can be overwhelming to think about.

Weddings can be anxiety-inducing and filled with dread for those of us that don’t drink. Attending weddings as a sober person can often feel lonely and about as fun as having dental work without novocain.

In part, I didn't want kids because I knew that I couldn't even take care of myself, let alone someone else.

“My name is Britni, and I’m an alcoholic.” I’ve said those words more times than I can count and they’re always met with nods of recognition and assurances of “me too.” I’m also a survivor of rape and sexual assault, and it’s a big part of my addiction story.

Loving someone who struggles with alcoholism and addiction is one of the hardest things to do. It’s a drain on friends and family in both financial and emotional ways. It comes with ups and downs, characterized by periods of hope followed by devastation when you’re let down yet again.

Studies have shown that teaching kids the actual terms for their private parts — instead of cutesy nicknames — decreases their chances of being targeted by a sexual predator. Their words are their weapon, whether they know it or not.

Women have changed their last names from their father’s to their new husband’s — a tradition that used to symbolize the transfer of “property” from one man to another. That property, of course, was the virgin bride. Many people will argue that it no longer has that implication, but for me, as a feminist, partaking in a tradition that is so rooted in the literal oppression of women is something that left an incredibly bad taste in my mouth.