Last week, I had the privilege of attending  In My Mind: A LGBTQ People of Color Mental Health Conference organized by DBGM. Held once a year in New York City, the conference centers the voices of LGBTQ+ people of color, particularly trans women of color. 

After giving birth to her first child, tennis star Serena Williams has posted a letter to her mother publicly on the social platform Reddit. In the letter, Williams writes about the admiration she holds towards her mother now that she has become a mother herself. 

Many of us from minority communities, whether it be our race/ethnicity, sexual orientation/gender identity, foreign/immigration status, or any other such factor, share an unfortunately common experience moving through the world: being the only one of your group in a room.

This “room” may be a classroom, a waiting room, a workplace, a party or event, or even a terminal at an airport. It doesn’t really matter what the context is, the experience remains the same.  

Ramadan is like a Spiderman movie.

I wait anxiously all year for its release. Once it arrives, it ends way too quickly. Afterwards, however, I am happy knowing that, inevitably, there will always be next year.

If you’re not a Spiderman fan (but...but...James Franco!), just fill in with your choice of Avengers/Harry Potter spinoff/Emma Watson project.

Perfectionism is often a trait of many folks who are in recovery from eating disorders, including me. My childhood traumas left me feeling flawed, inherently bad, and not good enough for anyone. I believed that if I was a “good girl” and excelled at all things, my life would be better. 

It’s no secret that disabled people are underrepresented or misrepresented in mainstream media. Just last year, Variety reported that 95% of disabled characters in the nation’s top 10 television shows are portrayed by able-bodied actors. 

Marcela Sabiá is a 26-year-old Brazilian illustrator who loves dogs, astrology, and creating art that makes the world a better place. She first started creating art professionally in 2015, and now, nearly three years later, she boasts an Instagram following of over 20,000. We chatted with Marcela about her art, her feminist awakening, and what she’d tell young women who are struggling with body image issues or eating disorders. Check out our interview below!

I was 11 years old when I started struggling with my first eating disorder. I did not know what anorexia was, nor did I know that the pinching of skin folds between my fingers, under my arms, and on my stomach, was symptomatic. I did not know that it wasn’t healthy to obsess over my reflection in car windows or to hunch over to keep my waist “tucked in.” I thought it was normal. But I wasn’t always this way. A once-expansive childhood had, somehow, collapsed into a labyrinth of dietary rituals and superstitions.

For the longest time, I did not let anyone in. If anyone asked how I was doing, I would just say, "I'm fine," and they’d stop asking. Now, I’m vocal about my mental health struggles; I’m no longer hiding, and I’m no longer silent.

The first thing you notice about up-and-coming filmmaker Tchaiko Omawale is her vibrant blue hair; the second thing you notice, much like her hair, is the infectious yet subtle smile spread across her face. When she speaks, she pulls you, as if she is an old childhood friend who helped you navigate your first awkward crush.