Suzannah Weiss

“Don’t make yourself feel good by calling us survivors.”

I was six the first time I remember sucking in my stomach.

I have pressured people into sex. I have had partners say they weren’t in the mood and tried to change their minds. I have sulked when they didn’t. And I did this for years without realizing it was wrong. Why? Because I’m a straight woman.

"Hey, you're a feminist. What do you think of that?" If we feminists got a dollar every time someone at a party asked us this question, we just might close the wage gap.

When the police arrested Wendy Barnes's pimp, it appeared as if she were free at last, she recalls during our phone interview. “Maybe this nightmare ends,” she thought. But that's when they handcuffed her, brought her to the station, and charged her with the exact same crime: prostitution.

Those who know and love people with depression usually want nothing other than to help. But during the times I've been depressed, even the most well-intentioned efforts to help often backfired.

When I was first diagnosed with anorexia ten years ago, I vaguely knew that eating disorders were a feminist issue.

One day, when you’re twice your age, you’ll write a letter to yourself with all the things no one taught you about your period

I won't lie: When it comes to my appearance, I'm not my own biggest fan. Others may disagree, but catching a glimpse of myself in my mirrored closet doors is not a pleasant experience.

Ever since I was a kid myself, I’ve held the conviction that I didn’t want kids. I found baby dolls creepy and real-life babies irritating. Whenever I told my parents this, they’d say, “You’ll change your mind.” But at age 25, I still haven’t.