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My face: left: March 2019, right: November 2020

I’ve had acne since I hit puberty at around 11 years old. I stole ancient makeup from my mother’s bathroom cabinets and caked it over my blemishes, which only seemed to invite relentless teasing from my middle school classmates. I scrubbed at my face and forewent moisturizer to dry out the excess oil I thought was clogging my pores. My father gave me a Clearasil spot treatment and told me it would clear up in a few years. I wondered: What was I supposed to do until then?

It did not clear up, as fate would have it. It took me almost 20 years to experience the magic of clear skin again. Twenty years of being told by the world at large that I couldn’t be beautiful, intelligent, hard-working, or healthy because I hadn’t solved the mystery of my acne. Twenty years of thinking that something must be wrong with me and that if I could only clear up my face, I would be made right. …


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Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash

TW: If you or someone you know is struggling with an eating disorder, please call the National Eating Disorder Helpline at (800) 931–2237.

As the New York Times helped me remember last week, “There Is Plenty of Food in the Country.” Experts believe that it is not a quantity problem we’re experiencing currently, but a distribution problem. With a near-total national lockdown and a looming economic recession on the horizon, the impulse to “stock up,” is a strong one. …


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Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

“No, I’m not ready,” I was adamant. It was winter 2018 in Seattle, Washington, and I was in the middle of maintaining a somewhat unrealistic boundary with my mother. I was not ready to meet her new boyfriend, and she couldn’t make me.

I was 25 years old when my dad died; he was 65. He died from complications with early-onset dementia in our home during the Fall of 2016.

On the surface, my mother’s and my experience with losing a loved one were fairly benign. My father had lucid moments up until his last evening. He never forgot who we were to him, or stopped telling us how much he loved and appreciated us. …


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Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

This pandemic is directly affecting our healthcare, economic, and social systems in ways that we could’ve never imagined a year ago. The process of surviving the coronavirus will have lasting effects on how our society functions on every level — from the way we relate to other people and our governing bodies. I understand if your default reaction is fear, isolation, anger, blame, selfishness, or outright panic. …


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Photo by Ehud Neuhaus on Unsplash

Due to the coronavirus outbreak, and the distribution bottleneck we’re witnessing in our food system, I thought it might be helpful to outline some simple recipes to help keep everyone staying home safe, healthy, and satisfied — on a budget.

I’ve designed this to be a comprehensive resource for you in how to survive the current apocalypse without eating the same thing every day. Many of you may not be comfortable with basic cooking techniques, so I’ve done my best to make this as foolproof as I can.

1. Basic Shopping List:

  1. Veggies, fresh or frozen, such as carrots, celery, onion, garlic, bell peppers, broccoli, kale, spinach, bok choy, potatoes, squash, mushrooms, etc. …

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Photo by Hello I’m Nik 🍌 on Unsplash

Why I said no to transactional relationships

Ever since I saw Pretty Woman for the first time, I’ve always been curious about the attractive male benefactor who takes interest in the financially troubled lady. I know I’m not alone in the fantasy of falling madly in love with someone who could take care of all my financial needs for the rest of my God-given days. Does this make me a gold digger or an old fashioned-idealist?

While Tindering recently, I was surprised to find men in their 30’s advertising for “sugar babies.” I always associated “sugar daddies” to be more elderly, widower types in their 60’s and 70’s, looking for something young to parade around town. …


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Photo by Mahrael Boutros on Unsplash

Are something I have little to no experience with…

My first kiss was with Kris — short for Kristin, and it was a rough one. She was all about tongue and teeth and nibbling on my bottom lip and I had no idea what the hell I was doing. I was fourteen. We were in my parent’s backyard. We dated for about a month. She slept over a lot. I think my Dad just liked the idea that I couldn’t get pregnant. I have no idea what my Mom thought. A month later I was crying into the phone, saying something along the lines of — “It’s not you, I just don’t even know what’s wrong with me. I can’t feel it the way you do. I’m horrible. I’m sorry. …


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Photo by Marten Bjork on Unsplash

And it was the best decision I’ve ever made

These days, the internet is full of success stories of entrepreneurial self-starters who abandoned a reliable income in favor of pursuing their ultimate dreams. This story is not one of those.

About a month ago, I quit my day job as an email customer service manager without another opportunity lined up. If you knew me personally, you’d know that this terrified me. I am that quintessential type A personality that wants to know how my entire life is going to unfold along with my exact next step. …


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Photo by Toa Heftiba on Unsplash

And Vice Versa

“But if you would just stop doing that one thing that I hate — then I wouldn’t have to keep reminding you not to do it!”

“But if you’d just done what I asked you when I asked you to do it, we wouldn’t be having this conversation!”

“But if you were just this way, instead of that way, I wouldn’t be reacting to you the way that I am now!”

Does this sound familiar?

It took me a long time to figure out that no one could “fix” my feelings but me. I wanted to give consequences. I wanted to rant and rage and drive my point home because I was RIGHT and I wasn’t going to rest until I felt seen and heard. …


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Photo by Jan Zhukov on Unsplash

At 20, I was an orgasm virgin. I’d been having sex for about four years, but that magical pleasure wave had always eluded me. Until one summer night in Florence completely changed my (sex) life.

I’d fallen into the bed of a gorgeous Italian man named Armando, and I was experiencing sensations I had never felt before. I met him while eating dinner solo at the bistro below my youth hostel. He was my waiter, as well as the local high-school chemistry teacher. Giddily, we struggled through two evenings of broken bilingual strolls through piazzas, late-night cafes and night caps of Limoncello. …

About

Leigh Huggins

Life Coach & Author. https://leighhuggins.com Twitter: @LeighHuggins

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