An excerpt from my memoir, Too Pretty To Be Good On my first night ever stripping, I destroyed my car. I say “my car,” and I suppose technically it was, but the vehicle had, in fact, belonged to Daddy. Evidence of him was everywhere. The upholstery, once grey, stained...
As women, we are indoctrinated to look at other women as competition, although we cannot quite put our finger on what competition we’re in, exactly. We vaguely suspect it has something to do with being pretty, with getting the guy…? We are trained by...
Babes. Friends. My sweet buddies. A lot of y’all are sleepwalking through life. Wading in inertia. Wallowing in numbness. Putting a damper on that light inside– because the light inside scares you. So many of us are afraid to name what we really want, much less...
