Joni Edelman

Compassion for myself is not a thing I do. It is not a thing I have ever done. It is not a thing I feel comfortable doing. It's time I stop for compassion.

Psychiatric illness is still stigmatized. And that’s hard when you have a psychiatric illness.

It's always so good to know the folks doing the work you're doing.

My daughter just had 75 of her Instagram yoga images pilfered. What is going on? And what can we do about it?

It doesn’t get any more difficult to insult ourselves, regardless of how old we are. It would be ideal if it got easier to respect ourselves, but it generally doesn’t do that either. Every year you age, and every year the aging you looks at the you of the years before and thinks, I can’t believe I thought I was fat/ugly/etc.

Our relationship has been a little complicated. I've loved you a lot, and I've loathed you at least that much, but mostly you've just gone unnoticed. Except for those 5 to 7 days every four weeks when you made your presence quite evident, what with the river of life blood and the random excruciating, and from what I can tell, unnecessary, contractions.

Is that incense I smell? A drum circle in the distance perhaps? Chanting? Herbal potions? Perhaps a cauldron? Could it be homebirth?

I was told that feminism is man hate. That abortion is murder. And then I thought, "What am I doing here?"

Good god, where will I ever find someone who will love me in such a pitiful condition?

In today's HELLO, OBVIOUSLY news: National Coffee Day.