Big Girls Like Us: The Elephant in the Room

56be0c891a00009c01ab2903Being a “big girl” in a society that is obsessed with the “ideal” body (petite, uniform, thigh gap like the Grand Canyon) definitely has its challenges. Besides the fact that places like the pool or the beach cause a tremendous amount of anxiety and self-loathing – and most “trendy” stores do not design clothes to compliment your curves – the biggest hurdle is by far, the feeling that, by society’s standards, you’re just not good enough. Read more

We Need to Talk

12736120_1294107703948253_1129266043_nI am a social media junkie. I spent a lot of time scrolling my various news feeds, clicking on articles, reading editorials, and trying to keep-up on both “important” news, and all of the “other” news that falls into the categories of health, entertainment, scandals, etc. Most of the time my news feed is filled with memes. Some cute, some ironic, some offensive, and some poignant. It is VERY rare that a simple meme will send me soaring off the deep-end into a rage-filled rant. Ladies, I am here to tell you; this one did it for me. Read more




To be twenty again. So badly do I wish for a re-do of my twenties, that it’s almost painful to post this. Now I am NOT saying that I would ever want to trade-in my kids, husband, friends, or college degree (which all came from my twenties), but I sure wouldn’t mind tweaking a few things if I could. Certainly, the least I can do is impart some wisdom on those that are there now, and the parents along for the ride. Read more

Courtney Cummins, Blogger

Finding My Voice

View More: I was younger my voice was loud. It was ferocious, and irreverent, and it could never be “shushed,” much to the chagrin of my parents I’m sure. My father used to tell me, “you will either take over the world, or you are in for a rough road.” I didn’t believe him at the time. I didn’t really believe a lot of what people told me. To me the world was a beautiful place, even with all of its fatalistic flaws. I swear that I could often see the beauty emanating from people all around me. Every experience was intense, and fraught with emotion. Every reaction was emotional and over the top; and while this made me somewhat of a drama queen, I lived every day to its fullest, and I wasn’t sorry. I was a writer, a passionate lover, a rebel behind the mask of a well-spoken honors student. I had big plans.

But gradually the road did get rough, and my voice got shushed, and the beauty faded. I got violently swept into the monotony of day-to-day living. I had a job to do. I became an indentured servant to my husband, children, boss, the PTA, the Girl Scout troop, the soccer team. Though much of this brought me moments of joy, somewhere in the jumble I lost my voice. No more marathon poetry writing sessions with the Indigo Girls blaring in the background or 4 am coffee with an inspiring but un-dateable 40-year old actor who made my heart race. I wasn’t sad, or angry, or resentful; I was just existing, quietly and apologetically.

Finally, at the age of 36, I can feel a familiar sensation rising in my throat. Despite fitting into a lot of categories: wife, mother, working mother, young mother, 30-something, struggling with body image, struggling with middle-age…I am on the verge of finding that controversial voice. I have begun to see glimpses of that beauty amongst the shades of gray that have muted my world for so long.