One of the most prevalent compliments that mothers receive are how selfless they are, and of course no one wants to be qualified as ‘selfish’, but also if I turn that word over in my head over and over again it doesn’t sound like a compliment. Selfless? She doesn't have a self? and that’s supposed to be the thing to strive for.

It's cool being here, and a few years having passed, I feel like this is probably the period where I've changed the most in my adult life. I don’t know who here is sort of in, or has been in, their mid-20s, but I found that it was a period of great self-discovery. And for me, it's been as much about gaining things as it has been throwing things away; things that are of no real value to you, that maybe you were taught should be of value to you. And that is the incredible thing about our beautiful, lucky lives that we lead, there's so much that we can choose. We can say “no, that's not my vibe, not gonna do it.” Maybe there's something you used to do that felt really, really important to you, but now you're like “nope.” For me, actually, that was thinking I had to be a certain size. My whole life, I thought that's what being a woman is, it's this smallness, it's containment of the self. And that was really difficult for me, I always felt I was too much. And it wasn't until I let go of that that I really became someone. All of a sudden I was like “here she is, the woman that I hoped would emerge.” So you know if there's anything that you feel you grip tight to and you're like, “I don't even know why I do this thing, it doesn't help me,” I invite you to say a little something and flick it out, let it go, because my life has gotten so much richer the more layers I peel back. I don't want there to be anything between us; the less there is between us, the bigger this feels. Here I am in all my, I don't know, gore and glory.

No aspect of the feminine I’d seen felt natural to me, but I wanted it to be desperately. As a messy child, such grace felt out of reach.

I should be starving for this life of freedom that I have for there have been so so many before me who died so so hungry for it

The first examples of femininity presented to me were through my upbringing in a household of extraordinarily beautiful women. The women in my family; my grandmother, aunts, cousins, and my very own mother, were all known for their beauty in their time, it glowed out of them. On top of that, they were extremely well dressed and mannered. They never spoke out of turn, expressing emotion in glances, and rage in backhanded compliments, always hiding the depths of what they felt in smiles. They were shining jewels for the powerful men in my family to assert their wealth and power with. My mother once told me that it is looked down upon for a man in Colombia to have an ugly wife, because if he had money he’d provide her the necessary cosmetic procedures to make her beautiful.

These women in my family were not human, they were dolls, and I was blind to their dehumanization at the time because there is nothing a young girl loves more than her dolls. They held themselves to the highest standard of female expression. They saw me as one of them, and educated me as such, though I never quite caught their sight of their vision. I was “too much” in the way little girls were never supposed to be; always full of bruises on my legs from careless falls, and stains over my dresses from playing with paint and food. I was quite vocal and extremely opinionated from a very early age.

I ask now for your guidance and strength, so that I may carry your lessons and wisdom with me well, as I pave a new way for us all. I will not follow the path you wish me to take but I will honor you by walking my own. One in which you are invited to come along.

...I watched many of my friends during their teenage yers lock their inner whores deep inside of themselves after being publicly shamed for daring to explore the sexuality they’d been gifted in growing adolescence [...] They were messy, but they were brave. When one is given the power that is sexual desire without method or context, what else can one expect? More so in a society that will find a way to villainize you for it regardless of the way it’s used.

She’s never the overt center of attention, but her boyfriend is always posting film of her #35mm on his Instagram story. And she’s always just kind of like… [tilts head poses]. The Candid Girl™ is the patient zero of The Pick-Me-Girl. She’s not even trying to be pick-me, she just authentically has nothing going on in her brain.

Spoiled, selfish, self-centered. This woman believes the sun should rise and set according to her needs. Her uncontrollable temper flares up at the slightest imagined provocation.e