Adiba Nelson

It was the weirdest thing. I looked at this tiny human and felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. No overwhelming joy at finally meeting this person I’d been so excited for in months prior, no lurking sadness about no longer being pregnant and relishing in those shared “inside mommy’s belly” moments. Just... nothing. My brain said, “You have a baby now,” and that was that.

I would break girl code. And if you love me, I hope you would do it for me too.

I don't love this. I don't love any part of it. I don't love the fact that a life is in my hands every moment of every day.

It is made up of women that I've known since I was 8, and women I met last week.

How do you go from two extremely different individuals living life separately to two extremely different individuals merging their separate lives into one loving family portrait — all while avoiding a cosmic meltdown? Very, very carefully. And with a bottle of wine… or 50.

Soy Adiba Nelson, y soy Latina también!

Want to go on a carbs and wine tour of Italy? Break out the leggings and go for it. This time is yours.

They basically gave the Oscars the middle finger.

Then we had that talk that made my eye twitch: the budget talk.

It’s insane the number of ways people want to pigeonhole, categorize, and ultimately TEAR DOWN women. What’s even worse is that we, as women, buy into it. We run around in T-shirts that say “Real Women Do XYZ” or “Real Women ARE XYZ.” We post these memes and quotes and think they’re funny, but what are we really doing?