Discussion of news topics with a point of view, including narratives by individuals regarding their own experiences

I always end a night out with my friends with the same six words: “Text me when you get home.”

It doesn’t matter if my friend’s leaving my house after a chill night in, or getting in an airplane to fly halfway across the world. It doesn’t matter if she’s alone or with others. The setting doesn’t matter and the context of how my friend leaves doesn’t matter, because the terrifying and unfortunate reality is that violence against women can happen anytime, anywhere.

As women, we are constantly reminded of our own vulnerability — when we run in the park, walk home, drive at night, meet a stranger. It’s a burden we can never truly shed.

But the shared experience between femme friends can help us distribute that weight. We look out for each other, and that’s what I try to express every time I say, “Text me when you get home” — that I’m here, that I care, that I notice and I’m ready to help.

For nostalgia’s sake, I hold onto items from my past relationships. But social media changes everything.

With direct messages and texts, ghosts of relationships past aren’t so easily sorted

I used to think I needed a house and a big salary by age 30. Now that I’m about to leave my 20s behind, I have new goals.

Now, I want to find what truly makes me happy

The short winter days make me sad. Here’s how I cope.

Nothing I’ve tried is a cure-all, but I’ve found some remedies that work for me