Olivia Pennelle

Valentine's Day is the perfect time to spend a few hours showing ourselves the love we deserve.

What I can do is try to reach other white women who have yet to consider how their whiteness has led to significant inequities in our society.

The sad reality is that many of us lose ourselves in addiction, and not enough make it out. In honor of National Recovery Month, I'm telling my story.

Every year, I dread fall because I know what is around the corner: Seasonal Affective Disorder. I'm trying to keep my head above water.

This self-absorbed womanizer is my narcissistic father. And many of us have them.

This isn’t an essay about how “woke” I am — instead, it’s a journey of reclamation and standing in my power, which started with my getting sober.

I know that in sharing my story of my brother's suicide, I can contribute to greater awareness around the reality of suicide.

We don’t have the luxury of personal choice in our use of language when we are talking about the highly stigmatized condition of addiction.

As an introvert, it can be hard to find a balance between appeasing your family’s needs while respecting your own during the holidays.

When I decided to get sober, I simply wanted help to stop drowning myself; I certainly didn’t envision digging up my painful relationship history.