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.

I signed up for the extra money, but cat-sitting came with unexpected benefits

House-sitting and cat-sitting have been healing

I’m half-Mexican, but I pass for white. Here’s what it feels like to inhabit two racial identities.

I’m fiercely proud of my heritage, but can’t fully immerse myself due to a language barrier

I hate my recurring, pointless dreams, so I’m trying to train my subconscious mind. Here’s how.

I’ve been practicing how to lucid dream for weeks — and have had one success so far