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Being aware of what might trigger my anxiety and being proactive is the best way I’ve found to keep myself healthy.

I will never forget the day my friend re-sized my body and air-brushed my skin in one of her pictures.

I have been beating myself up for months, you guys. Months where it felt every single thing I was doing was wrong.

After a lifetime of feeling invisible, a photo shoot opens the door to self-discovery and beauty.

Self-love is not just bubble baths and face masks, it goes far beyond that.

Within milliseconds, he twisted her head about, yanked her neck out, and paralyzed her. Just like that. I roared a long-winded murderous scream, so loud and full, that I know a part of myself died in those seconds.

Lessons on life + love can come from unexpected places - like the Secret Service.

I finally cried and let go of the dream of “maybe someday” with him. And the weight began to lessen.

Art was for other people. People who didn’t make money. People who didn’t take life seriously, wore sandals, and had all the time in the world to sit around and play with paint all day. A decade or so later, something shifted.

I don’t know for certain that my writing is of any importance to others, but still I write.

When my husband asked me to marry him, it really was a fairy-tale perfect, Instagram-worthy proposal of proposals. He did everything I could have dreamt of...and I missed it.

Ten months into the best relationship of my life, I freaked out. I remember the moment it happened too - as if a switch was turned on and I needed to get out now. Thoughts like we can’t do this anymore; how do I know he’s the one; we have to break up were repeated over and over in my head like a broken record.

In my eating disorder, I held in all my emotions and numbed them out by starving myself, exercising past the point of exhaustion, and repeatedly throwing up. Now that I was no longer turning to those behaviors, everything that I pushed down flooded in like water from a broken levee.

I was making others feel great about themselves! Radiating positivity out of every nook and cranny I could, but saving none for myself. I preached body positive quotes left and right, but none were aimed inward.

Alcohol made me feel alive and cool and part of the crowd. It was not until a close friend hit a tree head on after drinking and driving that I was able to put the alcohol down.

On November 11, 2013, I woke up with a horrendous headache and a terrifying feeling. I couldn’t remember much of anything from the night before. There was this feeling in the pit of my stomach. I felt a nudge to check the trash can and there I found three empty bottles of wine. How had I gotten to this point?

Who knew that once I forgave myself for not being perfect, the need to be perfect would melt away? Self-forgiveness was exactly what I needed to find my way home again.

There is tremendous power in telling your story and letting go of the shame of sexual abuse.

To the survivors of sexual abuse, and their loved ones, know you are not alone, this is something that will be part of you, but it in no way needs to define you.

Learning how to mend a broken heart in the midst of grief and aftermath of suicide. 

Shaun's suicide was devastating and heartbreaking beyond measure. It caused a pain that until you have experienced it, you cannot fully understand how hard it is to face the never-ending grief that comes from losing someone by their own choice.

September 19th is the day my heart breaks. September 19th is the day my heart is made whole again.

Organ donation is a hard topic, especially when it deals with children. Please consider registering to be an organ donor and know how impactful that gift is to those who are in dire need of a life-saving organ.

Organ donation is a reminder of all the good in the world. Strangers who as their final act in this life, give life to others; I’m not sure there is anything more humbling than being on the receiving end of such an act.

I have been beating myself up for months, you guys. Months where it felt every single thing I was doing was wrong.

Reflections on a post-baby body after 4 pregnancies.

Any self-confidence buzzing within my grasp was snatched up at the sight of stretch marks and extra weight looking back at me from the mirror. Not to mention what pregnancy and nursing did to my breasts.

We’re expecting our second baby in November and I’m planning to breastfeed once again. I’m going in with the same mindset, though – if it’s not working out for the baby or me, then we’ll switch to formula. After all, meeting my baby’s basic needs is the most important thing on my list.

Breastfeeding is a commitment - one that can be really hard for new mothers.

How to reclaim your identity after your marriage ends.

I was making others feel great about themselves! Radiating positivity out of every nook and cranny I could, but saving none for myself. I preached body positive quotes left and right, but none were aimed inward.

Alcohol made me feel alive and cool and part of the crowd. It was not until a close friend hit a tree head on after drinking and driving that I was able to put the alcohol down.

Many assume that second time mothers have it together; that being well-informed they are good to go. We don’t often recognize the courage it takes to enter that space again, this time fully aware. The creation of a life - and all that goes into it - is no less magical when the curtain has been pulled back, but the second time you are the magician’s assistant rather than a member of the audience.

To put it simply: I missed working. I missed the morning chit-chat, the random venting sessions, the ability to go out for lunch, or sit and read at my desk. I didn’t miss the deadlines or stress, but I missed the person I was while at work.

Who knew that once I forgave myself for not being perfect, the need to be perfect would melt away? Self-forgiveness was exactly what I needed to find my way home again.

To the survivors of sexual abuse, and their loved ones, know you are not alone, this is something that will be part of you, but it in no way needs to define you.

Am I doing enough for my kids? We want to make everything better for our children, when in reality, there is beauty in not always saving them from the struggle.

I know there will be days when I want to throw in the towel, or run away, or have a mere five minutes to take care of my own needs. But from the first contraction of childbirth, my body started screaming: this is not about you.

A heartwarming story of open adoption and navigating the relationships with your child's birth parents and extended family. 

Stephan and Michael knew they’d eventually want to have children together. When they were ready to make their plans a reality, the legal and social landscape had changed regarding adoption for same-sex couples from when they first started dating. Here they share with us how they traveled their path to become two dads to their daughter, Elle.

Learning how to mend a broken heart in the midst of grief and aftermath of suicide. 

Domestic abuse and trauma change your internal landscape forever. A true story of surviving a relationship with an abusive addict. 

Too often, we ignore that bruise on someone's face or that timid, almost scared posture of a co-worker, relative, or a close friend. After all, it's not happening to us and it might be mean to have an uncomfortable conversation about personal issues. We almost always convince ourselves it will go away or it's not as bad as we imagine.

September 19th is the day my heart breaks. September 19th is the day my heart is made whole again.

After a lifetime of feeling invisible, a photo shoot opens the door to self-discovery and beauty.

Self-love is not just bubble baths and face masks, it goes far beyond that.

Lessons on life + love can come from unexpected places - like the Secret Service.

I finally cried and let go of the dream of “maybe someday” with him. And the weight began to lessen.

How to reclaim your identity after your marriage ends.

When my husband asked me to marry him, it really was a fairy-tale perfect, Instagram-worthy proposal of proposals. He did everything I could have dreamt of...and I missed it.

Ten months into the best relationship of my life, I freaked out. I remember the moment it happened too - as if a switch was turned on and I needed to get out now. Thoughts like we can’t do this anymore; how do I know he’s the one; we have to break up were repeated over and over in my head like a broken record.

We've all seen the quote floating around our Instagram feeds: "Don't let the success of others threaten your own success." But what if we pushed further and went out of our way to support the success of those around us? Here are four quick steps to help you make it happen this week.

No matter who you are or what you do, always surround yourself with good friends. They will spot you through life’s challenges, they will give you warm companionship, and you will support them with love in return.

When we first learned about Linda and her husband, Tyler, leaving everything behind to travel the world, you could say we were a bit more than intrigued.

Domestic abuse and trauma change your internal landscape forever. A true story of surviving a relationship with an abusive addict. 

September 19th is the day my heart breaks. September 19th is the day my heart is made whole again.

Organ donation is a hard topic, especially when it deals with children. Please consider registering to be an organ donor and know how impactful that gift is to those who are in dire need of a life-saving organ.

Organ donation is a reminder of all the good in the world. Strangers who as their final act in this life, give life to others; I’m not sure there is anything more humbling than being on the receiving end of such an act.

Something was wrong, yet no one could tell Breanna why her body was giving out.

I have three wonderful kids and a military husband. When something hurts, I ignore it. I don’t have time for it. If that doesn’t work, I take some Ibuprofen. If that doesn’t work, I try harder to ignore it, and eventually it just becomes a normal everyday type of pain and I get used to it and move on - power through the pain. But what happens when it doesn’t get better? What happens when the pain and numbness in your left arm starts to spread, and it gets so bad you finally do something about it only to find out things are going to get so much worse before they get better?

Within milliseconds, he twisted her head about, yanked her neck out, and paralyzed her. Just like that. I roared a long-winded murderous scream, so loud and full, that I know a part of myself died in those seconds.

We’re expecting our second baby in November and I’m planning to breastfeed once again. I’m going in with the same mindset, though – if it’s not working out for the baby or me, then we’ll switch to formula. After all, meeting my baby’s basic needs is the most important thing on my list.

Breastfeeding is a commitment - one that can be really hard for new mothers.

Who knew that once I forgave myself for not being perfect, the need to be perfect would melt away? Self-forgiveness was exactly what I needed to find my way home again.

After dieting for 10 years, one woman comes to terms with her body image and happiness.

What do you think when you read the word “anorexia”? High fashion models? Crazy teenage girls? Another diet? Or the latest Lily Collins movie? How about a ten-year-old girl that ended up with a lifelong journey for recovery? Eating disorders are considered addictions, but unlike the addict, who can abstain from the substance, I can’t. I must face both my fear and my “drug” every 2-5 hours, every day.

I am sick. You may not know that by looking at me, but I am. My illness is invisible. There are those out there who would say mental illness isn’t real, or isn’t as important as other medical ailments – cancer, heart disease, multiple sclerosis. And to them, I ask: Why? Why is my illness unimportant? It affects my mind and my body on a regular basis.

On Wednesday, April 19th I was checked by my midwife and she reported that I was 2 centimeters dilated and 50% effaced. Naturally, I got super excited and assumed delivery was imminent. I was wrong. No bloody show, no broken water. My midwife wrote me a prescription for a tincture to help induce labor. It consisted of blue and black cohosh root, ginger, and Lobelia. Two days later and one empty tincture bottle... still nothing. At this point, I was more than ready to get this show on the road

Only two weeks away from my due date and I’m so ready for this baby! Overall it's been an easy, joyful pregnancy and I’ll always be grateful for that, but these last couple of weeks have been tough. 

Throughout my pregnancy, my OB appointments have been somewhat of a disappointment. Once you get over the initial rush of your first ultrasound, doppler, and measurement, the appointments start to feel rushed. 

No matter how much you read or how many sisters or friends have babies, nothing can prepare you for the crazy shit that happens to your body. 

Being aware of what might trigger my anxiety and being proactive is the best way I’ve found to keep myself healthy.

I will never forget the day my friend re-sized my body and air-brushed my skin in one of her pictures.

Life is truly too wonderful to spend wishing to be someone else.

Reflections on a post-baby body after 4 pregnancies.

Any self-confidence buzzing within my grasp was snatched up at the sight of stretch marks and extra weight looking back at me from the mirror. Not to mention what pregnancy and nursing did to my breasts.

After a lifetime of feeling invisible, a photo shoot opens the door to self-discovery and beauty.

Something was wrong, yet no one could tell Breanna why her body was giving out.

Self-love is not just bubble baths and face masks, it goes far beyond that.

Within milliseconds, he twisted her head about, yanked her neck out, and paralyzed her. Just like that. I roared a long-winded murderous scream, so loud and full, that I know a part of myself died in those seconds.

Lessons on life + love can come from unexpected places - like the Secret Service.

I finally cried and let go of the dream of “maybe someday” with him. And the weight began to lessen.

How to reclaim your identity after your marriage ends.

Art was for other people. People who didn’t make money. People who didn’t take life seriously, wore sandals, and had all the time in the world to sit around and play with paint all day. A decade or so later, something shifted.

I don’t know for certain that my writing is of any importance to others, but still I write.

When my husband asked me to marry him, it really was a fairy-tale perfect, Instagram-worthy proposal of proposals. He did everything I could have dreamt of...and I missed it.

Ten months into the best relationship of my life, I freaked out. I remember the moment it happened too - as if a switch was turned on and I needed to get out now. Thoughts like we can’t do this anymore; how do I know he’s the one; we have to break up were repeated over and over in my head like a broken record.

In my eating disorder, I held in all my emotions and numbed them out by starving myself, exercising past the point of exhaustion, and repeatedly throwing up. Now that I was no longer turning to those behaviors, everything that I pushed down flooded in like water from a broken levee.

I was making others feel great about themselves! Radiating positivity out of every nook and cranny I could, but saving none for myself. I preached body positive quotes left and right, but none were aimed inward.

On November 11, 2013, I woke up with a horrendous headache and a terrifying feeling. I couldn’t remember much of anything from the night before. There was this feeling in the pit of my stomach. I felt a nudge to check the trash can and there I found three empty bottles of wine. How had I gotten to this point?

Her mind is clear as the air, her limbs light as the wind,
Her spirit made anew.

Who knew that once I forgave myself for not being perfect, the need to be perfect would melt away? Self-forgiveness was exactly what I needed to find my way home again.

The future brings many worries and unanswered questions. What if we trusted ourselves instead?

There is tremendous power in telling your story and letting go of the shame of sexual abuse.

To the survivors of sexual abuse, and their loved ones, know you are not alone, this is something that will be part of you, but it in no way needs to define you.

Living the solitary life can be beneficial - for a time. 

Between work, community involvement, catching up on social media and various obligations, we have forgotten our severe need for rest and mind renewal.

Let's have an honest, raw conversation about social media, body image, and what it can do to a pretty stable, normal self-esteemed adult.

Self-love is nurturing and tending to the entire self. Self-care is certainly a part of self-love, but it's not all of it. It's less of getting your gas tank filled and more of getting a whole car tune-up. I think of it like this: there's a difference between how I act when I care about a person and when I love a person.

All of us can connect with a cause that is meaningful to us.

In my eating disorder, I held in all my emotions and numbed them out by starving myself, exercising past the point of exhaustion, and repeatedly throwing up. Now that I was no longer turning to those behaviors, everything that I pushed down flooded in like water from a broken levee.

I was making others feel great about themselves! Radiating positivity out of every nook and cranny I could, but saving none for myself. I preached body positive quotes left and right, but none were aimed inward.

Alcohol made me feel alive and cool and part of the crowd. It was not until a close friend hit a tree head on after drinking and driving that I was able to put the alcohol down.

On November 11, 2013, I woke up with a horrendous headache and a terrifying feeling. I couldn’t remember much of anything from the night before. There was this feeling in the pit of my stomach. I felt a nudge to check the trash can and there I found three empty bottles of wine. How had I gotten to this point?

There is tremendous power in telling your story and letting go of the shame of sexual abuse.

To the survivors of sexual abuse, and their loved ones, know you are not alone, this is something that will be part of you, but it in no way needs to define you.

Domestic abuse and trauma change your internal landscape forever. A true story of surviving a relationship with an abusive addict. 

Too often, we ignore that bruise on someone's face or that timid, almost scared posture of a co-worker, relative, or a close friend. After all, it's not happening to us and it might be mean to have an uncomfortable conversation about personal issues. We almost always convince ourselves it will go away or it's not as bad as we imagine.

What do you think when you read the word “anorexia”? High fashion models? Crazy teenage girls? Another diet? Or the latest Lily Collins movie? How about a ten-year-old girl that ended up with a lifelong journey for recovery? Eating disorders are considered addictions, but unlike the addict, who can abstain from the substance, I can’t. I must face both my fear and my “drug” every 2-5 hours, every day.

My journey to sobriety has been twisted, stubborn, and miraculous. Once upon a time, I could take a drink or leave it. Sometimes, I try to remember what may have flipped that switch.

I wasn't looking for anything in particular when Adam* unexpectedly came into my life. At the end of May, only two weeks after ending things with Matthew* before they even really got started, Adam arrived in the small town I was still adjusting to.

Life is an incredible road that everybody travels down differently. Some drive with intense speed to reach their destination while some would rather take their time on a more scenic route. 

I will never forget the day my friend re-sized my body and air-brushed my skin in one of her pictures.

Life is truly too wonderful to spend wishing to be someone else.

Reflections on a post-baby body after 4 pregnancies.

Any self-confidence buzzing within my grasp was snatched up at the sight of stretch marks and extra weight looking back at me from the mirror. Not to mention what pregnancy and nursing did to my breasts.

After a lifetime of feeling invisible, a photo shoot opens the door to self-discovery and beauty.

In my eating disorder, I held in all my emotions and numbed them out by starving myself, exercising past the point of exhaustion, and repeatedly throwing up. Now that I was no longer turning to those behaviors, everything that I pushed down flooded in like water from a broken levee.

I was making others feel great about themselves! Radiating positivity out of every nook and cranny I could, but saving none for myself. I preached body positive quotes left and right, but none were aimed inward.

After dieting for 10 years, one woman comes to terms with her body image and happiness.

Let's have an honest, raw conversation about social media, body image, and what it can do to a pretty stable, normal self-esteemed adult.

What do you think when you read the word “anorexia”? High fashion models? Crazy teenage girls? Another diet? Or the latest Lily Collins movie? How about a ten-year-old girl that ended up with a lifelong journey for recovery? Eating disorders are considered addictions, but unlike the addict, who can abstain from the substance, I can’t. I must face both my fear and my “drug” every 2-5 hours, every day.

At the end of my pregnancy, it felt like I was going to be pregnant forever. All I wanted was to have this baby, then you have her and she’s here, and you realize you’ve got her and more importantly she's got you for the rest of your lives. Whoa. It's so real you can't really wrap your head around it and for a second you start freaking out… then you change a diaper. Then you feel your milk let down. Then she makes eye contact and she smiles at you. Then your heart grows three times its size and your baby fits right in there.

Only two weeks away from my due date and I’m so ready for this baby! Overall it's been an easy, joyful pregnancy and I’ll always be grateful for that, but these last couple of weeks have been tough. 

Throughout my pregnancy, my OB appointments have been somewhat of a disappointment. Once you get over the initial rush of your first ultrasound, doppler, and measurement, the appointments start to feel rushed. 

No matter how much you read or how many sisters or friends have babies, nothing can prepare you for the crazy shit that happens to your body. 

Life is an incredible road that everybody travels down differently. Some drive with intense speed to reach their destination while some would rather take their time on a more scenic route. 

Being aware of what might trigger my anxiety and being proactive is the best way I’ve found to keep myself healthy.

Organ donation is a hard topic, especially when it deals with children. Please consider registering to be an organ donor and know how impactful that gift is to those who are in dire need of a life-saving organ.

Organ donation is a reminder of all the good in the world. Strangers who as their final act in this life, give life to others; I’m not sure there is anything more humbling than being on the receiving end of such an act.

I will never forget the day my friend re-sized my body and air-brushed my skin in one of her pictures.

Life is truly too wonderful to spend wishing to be someone else.

Reflections on a post-baby body after 4 pregnancies.

Any self-confidence buzzing within my grasp was snatched up at the sight of stretch marks and extra weight looking back at me from the mirror. Not to mention what pregnancy and nursing did to my breasts.

After a lifetime of feeling invisible, a photo shoot opens the door to self-discovery and beauty.

Something was wrong, yet no one could tell Breanna why her body was giving out.

I have three wonderful kids and a military husband. When something hurts, I ignore it. I don’t have time for it. If that doesn’t work, I take some Ibuprofen. If that doesn’t work, I try harder to ignore it, and eventually it just becomes a normal everyday type of pain and I get used to it and move on - power through the pain. But what happens when it doesn’t get better? What happens when the pain and numbness in your left arm starts to spread, and it gets so bad you finally do something about it only to find out things are going to get so much worse before they get better?

Self-love is not just bubble baths and face masks, it goes far beyond that.

HLW is a community of people who love the written word. It's a monthly membership filled with tools to help our writers continue to do what they do best - write. And we're there to cheer them on every step of the way.

Within milliseconds, he twisted her head about, yanked her neck out, and paralyzed her. Just like that. I roared a long-winded murderous scream, so loud and full, that I know a part of myself died in those seconds.

All of us can connect with a cause that is meaningful to us.

Lessons on life + love can come from unexpected places - like the Secret Service.

We’re expecting our second baby in November and I’m planning to breastfeed once again. I’m going in with the same mindset, though – if it’s not working out for the baby or me, then we’ll switch to formula. After all, meeting my baby’s basic needs is the most important thing on my list.

Breastfeeding is a commitment - one that can be really hard for new mothers.

I finally cried and let go of the dream of “maybe someday” with him. And the weight began to lessen.

How to reclaim your identity after your marriage ends.

Art was for other people. People who didn’t make money. People who didn’t take life seriously, wore sandals, and had all the time in the world to sit around and play with paint all day. A decade or so later, something shifted.

I don’t know for certain that my writing is of any importance to others, but still I write.

When my husband asked me to marry him, it really was a fairy-tale perfect, Instagram-worthy proposal of proposals. He did everything I could have dreamt of...and I missed it.

Ten months into the best relationship of my life, I freaked out. I remember the moment it happened too - as if a switch was turned on and I needed to get out now. Thoughts like we can’t do this anymore; how do I know he’s the one; we have to break up were repeated over and over in my head like a broken record.

In my eating disorder, I held in all my emotions and numbed them out by starving myself, exercising past the point of exhaustion, and repeatedly throwing up. Now that I was no longer turning to those behaviors, everything that I pushed down flooded in like water from a broken levee.

I was making others feel great about themselves! Radiating positivity out of every nook and cranny I could, but saving none for myself. I preached body positive quotes left and right, but none were aimed inward.

Alcohol made me feel alive and cool and part of the crowd. It was not until a close friend hit a tree head on after drinking and driving that I was able to put the alcohol down.

On November 11, 2013, I woke up with a horrendous headache and a terrifying feeling. I couldn’t remember much of anything from the night before. There was this feeling in the pit of my stomach. I felt a nudge to check the trash can and there I found three empty bottles of wine. How had I gotten to this point?

Many assume that second time mothers have it together; that being well-informed they are good to go. We don’t often recognize the courage it takes to enter that space again, this time fully aware. The creation of a life - and all that goes into it - is no less magical when the curtain has been pulled back, but the second time you are the magician’s assistant rather than a member of the audience.

To put it simply: I missed working. I missed the morning chit-chat, the random venting sessions, the ability to go out for lunch, or sit and read at my desk. I didn’t miss the deadlines or stress, but I missed the person I was while at work.

Her mind is clear as the air, her limbs light as the wind,
Her spirit made anew.