Carrie Saum

So, when your BFF moves into her first real home and her husband has a birthday at basically the same moment, you bake a cake. And not just any cake but a beautiful thing made of the best ingredients. You aim high, confident that you can come through for your BFF and celebrate her family's milestones with four spongy layers filled with thick raspberry preserves and succulent buttercream.

This delightful mouthful of berries with a hint of lavender blossoms revolutionized the way I saw baking.

As white feminists, we have an absolute and undeniable responsibility to seek out perspectives of marginalized people and gain understanding.

If you are like me, you weren't raised to tune into your body, mind, or spirit. Tuning in was something you did to television, or something you made fun of when your weird Aunt Susan told you how to breathe into your third chakra to release your blocked Chi from three lifetimes ago.

I’m writing this, and I don’t even fully know how to tell you to slow down during your busy life because the truth is, I’m learning how to do this myself.

Friends. I have discovered something magical.

Newborn life...when that bliss wears off. Not all at once, and not in every way. But the bliss becomes less blinding. Everything returns to real life.

Instead of making lunch once a day, I make it once every three days. It saves on energy, brain power, and I don't have to figure out feeding myself in my janky kitchen more often than absolutely necessary.

I made you these cookies. They are special cookies that are made from pulverized cookies that became butter that then became cookies again.

I still wake up every day knowing that no matter how much work I do, as a low-key racist, I will always have more to do. And I’m happy to do it.