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"my" Definitions
  1. of or belonging to the speaker or writer
  2. used in exclamations to express surprise, etc.
  3. used when speaking to somebody, to show love
  4. used when speaking to somebody that you consider to have a lower status than you

979 Sentences With "my"

How to use my in a sentence? Find typical usage patterns (collocations)/phrases/context for "my" and check conjugation/comparative form for "my". Mastering all the usages of "my" from sentence examples published by news publications.

"She was my love, my heart, my best friend, my teacher, my rebel, my angel, my protector, my challenger, my partner, my muse, my wizard, my surprise, my gift, my comet, my liberator, my rock star, my completely impossible non-cooperator, my otherworldly visitor, my spiritual portal, and my baby," Gilbert wrote on Instagram after Elias' passing last year.
"She was my love, my heart, my best friend, my teacher, my rebel, my angel, my protector, my challenger, my partner, my muse, my wizard, my surprise, my gift, my comet, my liberator, my rock star, my completely impossible non-cooperator, my otherworldly visitor, my spiritual portal, and my baby," Gilbert wrote along with a photo of Elias happily playing guitar.
He is my strength, my example, my refuge, my confidante, my teacher, my rock, my hero - my dad.
" Concluding, "He is my strength, my example, my refuge, my confidante, my teacher, my rock, my hero — my dad.
Which means I craved control over my face, my emotions, my body, my food, my words, my house, my schedule, my yard, my future.
My rock, my best friend, my confidante, my lover, my strength, my Inspiration.
You took away my worth, my privacy, my energy, my time, my safety, my intimacy, my confidence, my own voice, until today.
It was my hairy arms, my round tummy, my skinny legs, acne on my face, my straight hair, my big forehead, my small boobs, my teeth that were never white enough, my flat butt, my stomach, my stomach, and even still my stomach.
"You took away my worth, my privacy, my energy, my time, my safety, my intimacy, my confidence, my own voice, until today," she writes.
"You took away my worth, my privacy, my energy, my time, my safety, my intimacy, my confidence, my own voice, until today," she said.
"You took away my worth, my privacy, my energy, my time, my intimacy, my confidence, my own voice," she said.
My family, my friends, my teachers, my colleagues, and my idols.
"My best friend my lover, my mindsharer, my life partner, my cheerleader, my dream increaser, my biggest supporter," she called him.
My loyalty Mr. Trump has cost me everything, my family's happiness, friendships, my law license, my company, my livelihood, my honor, my reputation and soon my freedom.
Not my face, not my mind, not my soul, not my thoughts, not my dreams, not my struggles, not my emotional growth.
My partner's number, my family's number, my castmates' numbers, my friend's numbers, my private emails, my private songs, my private voice memos.
My loyalty to Mr. Trump has cost me everything, my family's happiness, friendships, my law license, my company, my livelihood, my honer, my reputation, and soon my freedom.
My loyalty to Mr. Trump has cost me everything, my family's happiness, friendships, my law license, my company, my livelihood, my honor, my reputation and soon my freedom.
We would be so grateful for them," she said, concluding, "He is my strength, my example, my refuge, my confidante, my teacher, my rock, my hero — my dad.
My loyalty to Mr. Trump has cost me everything: my family's happiness, friendships, my law license, my company, my livelihood, my honor, my reputation and soon my freedom.
Not my face, not my mind, not my soul, not my thoughts, not my dreams, not my struggles, not my emotional growth. Nothing.
Not my face, not my mind, not my soul, not my thoughts, not my dreams, not my struggles, not my emotional growth. Nothing.
You are my brother, my husband, my cousin, my baby, my daughter's godfather.
You are my soulmate, my heart, my soul, my best friend, my everything.
Would I consider having my face shape changed, my brow line, my hairline, my chin, my nose, my lips?
My amazing nanny, my husband, my sister-in-law, my parents, my in-laws; my dope group of friends.
My side kick, My heart, My strength, My pride and joy, My best friend, My daughter YOU amaze me!!
Real pictures of my little sister, my nephew and my niece, and my mom and my dad, my grandmother.
I have to sacrifice my mind, my energy, my time, my schedule, my relationships, my plans, my goals, my dreams in pursuit of a flatter stomach and better toned arms?
"My loyalty to Mr. Trump has cost me everything—my family's happiness, friendships, my law license, my company, my livelihood, my honor, my reputation, and, soon, my freedom," he said.
My sister, my brother-in-law, my other sister, my best friend, my cousin.
I lost my staff, my salary, my benefits, my budget and my email address.
For my body, my cellulite, my scars, my stretch marks my periodic adult acne.
Back home my phone is my safety blanket, my cigarette, my friend, my enemy.
The rainbow-tinged strings have shown up in my food, my drinks, my bed, my desk, my clothes, my purse, my boyfriend's armpit hair, on the couch, and in my kitchen.
"LOLITA....Lolita....LIGHT of my LIFE....LIGHT of my LIFE...FIRE of my LOINS... FIRE of my LOINS...MY SIN....My SIN....MY SOUL...My SOUL," she wrote in the caption.
" But of Mr. Turner, she said: "You took away my worth, my privacy, my energy, my time, my intimacy, my confidence, my own voice, until today.
It's my obligation to my future, my business and colleagues, my daughters, and my country.
I would dress up as my mom, my dad, my brother, my grandmother, my sister.
"The theater is my brothers, my sisters, my father, my mother, my wife," he explained.
My sculptures are my paintings 3D; my paintings of my son are my son 2D.
My wife, my son and my friends liked my unflappable demeanor and my predictable behavior.
My thighs are flaccid and so is my heart, my strength, my daring, my do.
"My life has changed, the priorities in my life have changed, my priorities are my children, my husband and my family."
When I want to FaceTime my friends or anything, I have one in my kitchen, my bathroom, my beauty room, my closet, my bedroom, and my studio.
You've saved my brother, my uncle, my cousin, my wife.
I'd lost my job, my wife, my home, my health.
I thank my family, my backbone, my wife, my label.
My shoulder, my lungs, my legs — my whole body ached.
My depression springs from my biology, my biography, my choices.
My work is my reply, my travel is my defiance.
Ballet was my meditation, my therapy, my escape, my answer.
My family, my mom, my dad, everybody in my family that's been supportive — especially my dad.
I felt betrayed—by my grief, by my father, my book, my mind, and my palate.
You took away my power, my self-worth, my emotional development, my happiness and my innocence.
I care about my pets, I care about my nephew, my mother, my girlfriend, my friends.
Your Honor, I love my family more than anything in the world: My dad who is here today, my mom, my in-laws, siblings, love of my life, my wife Laura, my pride and joy, my daughter Samantha, my son, Jake.
It's more about giving back, using my voice for those in need of it, and also my business, my family, my relationship, my boyfriend, my pets and my friends.
I can control my heating, my lights, my music, and even my shopping list with just my voice, and it sits in my living room ready for my commands.
I alienated myself from my mother, my father, my sister, my niece, and my brother-in-law.
They are my friends, my family, members of my church, the members of my community, my neighbors.
Upon my arrival, two agents took everything I had: my phone, my wallet, my backpack, my luggage.
"He's my flesh and blood … my comrade, my 'whatever you want,' my everything, my reason for living."
I imagined losing my marriage, my family, my friends, my job.
You are my best friend, my love, my person, my soulmate!
You are my best friend, my lover, my person, my soulmate!
My dad was my dad, and my family was my family.
My body, my face, my scars told a story — my story.
I can change my change my gender, my age, my race.
This has been my body my entire life, and in my life my friends and my colleagues are not constantly talking about my body.
You make me laugh to the point of tears… You embrace my life, my spirit, my daughter, my career, my goals, and my choices.
This has been my body my entire life, and in my life, my friends and my colleagues are not constantly talking about my body.
My mother and my sisters, my grandmother, my niece, my whole family's just amazing, and [has been] extremely supportive of me all my life.
He was my best friend, my brother, my buddy, my ride-or-die … He was my everything, man.
My family see, my mum, my brothers, even my old son, but my father, he didn't see nothing.
My wife, my brother's wife, my mother and my son were injured in the airstrike on my house.
I grew up at my own gym: my father was my trainer, my brother was my sparring partner.
My hope now is that my family, my friends and my community will forgive me for my actions.
I have the support of my teammates, my coaches, my family, my friends, Alex (Guerrero), my training system.
I was scared into silence, afraid for my career, my safety, my husband, my family and my friends.
My husband is my North Star, and my kids are my teachers.
He was my life, my son, my dog and my best friend.
"He was my husband, my father, my man, my home," she said .
My mother-in-law, my husband's mom, my children's grandmother, my friend.
He's my Rock, my love, my biggest fan, supporter and my husband!
My cup actually deepened my relationship with my flow and my body.
My immediate family (my mother, my father, and my two siblings). 2.
"My husband, my partner, my best friend.. my BABY DADDY!" she continued.
Men have been my mentors, my friends, my confidantes, and my partners.
My relationships with my friends, my husband, with my parents, got better.
Just like my wins are my own, my failures are my own.
On the west are my streets, my school, my university, my home.
Everything smelled of smoke: my clothes, my car, my bag, my fingers.
They eat my skin and my hair, my eyes and my fingers.
They're my friends, they're my family, they're my loves, they're my future.
My job as a model is my image, my look, my body.
And to this day, I find twisting my wrists so that my palms cover my eyes and my fingers plug my ears more comfortable than resting my hands in my lap.
These last two years have been an eye opener for not only my children, but my brother, my dad, my mom, my cousins, my uncle.
I gang my own gait and have never belonged to my country, my home, my friends, or even my immediate family, with my whole heart.
My friends are my friends, my daughter is my daughter, and I'm beginning to learn who my enemies are.
There is now, I guess, but my fans — my girls, my people, my guys — have really made my career.
I have to move on with my life & count my blessings, my family, my health, & my beautiful baby True.
I have to move on with my life & count my blessings, my family, my health, & my beautiful baby True.
I had my pecs done, I had my shoulders done, I had my biceps done, my hips, my ass.
And I have my hat, my sunglasses, my sunscreen, and my sleeves that cover the back of my hands.
"My house was totally flooded, and my animals — my dogs, my chickens, my goats — are all lost," she said.
My empathy makes my choice, and I offer my help and my opinions in order to protect my friends.
"Their relatives are asking us to move mountains - 'I want my aunt, I want my uncle, my son, my daughter, my father, my mother'," he said.
"Definitely my background, my culture, the blend of my background and my culture and my upbringing has definitely a huge influence on my music," Dang said.
My big sister controls my Instagram and my big brother controls my Twitter.
They robbed me of my youth, my identity, my innocence, my self-worth.
My dad is there, my aunt and uncle, my cousin, my cousin's kids.
My friends are my family, my family are my friends, people surprise you.
So is my sister, my mom, my grandfather, and my aunts and uncles.
My mother was my best friend and my brothers were my best friends.
You are my tongue, you are my eye, My coming and my going.
I was with my husband, my stepdad, my mom, and my younger brother.
Into my bladder, into my anus, into my ribs, even into my breasts.
It decides my jobs, my aspirations, my retirement plans and, potentially, my citizenship.
My dad was my hero, and my dad's not my dad any longer.
Peer pressure has affected my relationships, my health, my faith and my finances.
You can take my lips, touch my breasts, caress my stomach, my sex.
I feel so much gratitude in my heart for my husband who always steps up when I can't, my children's nanny, my children's teachers, my chef, my hairdresser, my older daughters, my friends and all and everyone that have instilled, taught, been there and encourage my children.
It is my naturally harvested luffa sponge, my thoughts to control and my mind to clear, my $300 Alpine boots, my home gym, my cucumber on sprouted bread sandwich, my quest for perfection.
My family—my brother, my two aunts, my mom, and my dad—have a team approach to each member's health.
My meals, my workouts, my pants — those things are just part of my life now, rather than my life, period.
This is what my brothers and I were told by my mom and my dad, my mammaw and my pappaw.
"  "They're in my church, they're in my family, they're in my life, they're in my home with my kids, friends.
When I got my car back a week later, they took my radio, my meter, my tools, and my $32.
And my name is not just myself, it's my wife, my kids, my grandfather, my mother, so many more people.
My husband had always been my best friend, my primary confidant, my sounding board, and my greatest source of support.
I can't do my Wednesday girl, my Monday girl, my Friday girl, my weekend girl, my after-12 p.m. girl.
This is what my brothers and I were told by my mom and my dad, my mamaw and my papaw.
I have to put my spirit, my soul, my body, my skin, my fingernails — that needs to be in it.
Pathformer: Nail Trephination ThingOh my god oh my god Oh my god oh my god Oh my god oh my god Oh my god oh my god Oh my god oh my god …Read more ReadAnnalee Newitz—(2015; also co-founder of io9)I feel like the best Gizmodo posts I wrote were for my Ashley Madison series last year.
Soon I was piling all my books—my dictionary, my thesaurus, my Illustrated Birds of North America—and all my belongings into a cart outside my cell.
It's for my family, my friends, my sisters on the volleyball court, my coaches, my community, my college, for anybody who has a transplant or needs one.
Share my blog post, buy my book, click on my link, follow me on Instagram, visit my Etsy shop, donate to my Kickstarter, crowdfund my heart surgery.
Yet it certainly has — affecting my career, my choice of where to live, my friendships, my adoption of pets, my intellectual lifestyle and even my emoji use.
"My resentment, my anger, my loneliness, my curiosity, my goodness, my insecurities, my embarrassment – anything like that, that you would not normally want to show, that's a good thing for an actor," Cranston continued.
"I found my joy, my voice in myself, and my love for my sport."
"That's my wife, my child, and that's my main focus and that's my priority."
Thank you from my whole fucking heart to my friends, my bands, my mom.
My wife, my children and my friends have been keeping me on my feet.
For being my best friend, my soulmate, my safe haven, and now my FIANCÉ!
"Rest In Peace to my friend, my captain, my brother, my hero," Brent tweeted.
What would my sponsors, my family, my church, and my fans think of me?
My great love, my best friend, my true partner, my shelter from the storm.
Gratitude for my life, my health, my freedoms, for my wife and our children.
This was 100 percent my pictures, my way, you know—my taste, my choices.
My exercise left my eyes sore, my face red, and my left eye twitching.
What do I stand to lose – my reputation, my friends, my dignity, my future?
I loved it more than my job, my health, my friends, and my family.
"And me, and my body, my hips, my ass, my breasts made her uncomfortable."
The "Wore my feelings on my sleeveless / My weed seedless, my trees leafless" Chance?
The people Erdogan is targeting are my family, my friends, my neighbors, my classmates.
I ran my own race, I trusted my trainers, my program and my coach.
"            "My wife, my daughter and my son have my first loyalty and always will.
My first loyalty belongs to my wife, my daughter, my son and this country.
I record my son's words in my notebook, on my phone, in my laptop.
I kept thinking: 'They could be my father, my mother, my brother, my sister.
Against all my objections, my feminism, my pacifism, my liberalism, I wanted G there.
My nephews and my niece are not my children, but they are my world.
I got my success on my looks and my knowledge, not my sexual appeal.
Thank you to my family, my love of my life, Eric White, my kids.
Something in my manner, perhaps my reciting my documentation, my fussing, wearied him further.
I started to run, shedding my shirt, my shoes, my socks, and my trousers.
My granddad sold drugs in the morro, my uncle, my mother, all my family.
I put my head in my hands and rest my elbows on my knees.
There were relentless calls to me, my parents, my friends, and later, to my colleagues, my boss, and even my therapist.
"I have to move on with my life & count my blessings, my family, my health, & my beautiful baby True," she wrote.
You have been my rock, my motivation, my heart, my soulmate, my everything since the day I laid eyes on you.
You made me feel better about my forehead, my butt, my lips, my eyes, my legs, and you just left us?
I testified with five people foremost in my mind: my mom, my dad, my wife, and most of all my daughters.
To this day I have made my living with my wits and my fingers, rather than my back and my hands.
My moon boots, my emo boots, my girlie boots, my goth boots, my shiny glass slippers in the shape of boots.
Unless my words are on my clothes, then pay attention to my words on my clothes and not a part of my clothes that are not my words.
Some 90 percent of my file are things my lawyer submitted — my application, my passport and existing visa, my bank statements and tax returns, my medical exam and my entire set of supporting evidence — such as my articles, citations and letters of recommendation.
As I said in my [Twitter] thread, my phobia triggered my anxiety, and my anxiety triggered depression, which then exacerbated my phobia.
When I went into my living room, I saw my brother from Austin, my parents, most of my employees, and my sisters.
With "wearable computing," my glasses see what my eyes can see, my watch tracks my heartbeat and temperature… why not my brainwaves?
I need my three Cs. I need my controls, I need my cameras, I need my character, my locomotion—all that stuff.
My mom and my dad and my brother are here again, but this time I brought my wife and my four kids.
In my amateur days, I would design my own websites, cut my own hair, and change my own oil in my car.
I shoved my hands into my pockets and squeezed my arms against my sides, holding up my pants, trying to get warm.
It's been nothing but my band, my team, my family, and my friends convincing me that that my dreams are all possible.
I'll be playing my part from my tiny Parisian apartment, sharing my thoughts on my Tumblr and appreciating life from my window.
They are the population of my soul, of my mind, disguises of my face or of my friend's or of my love's.
It's my Kansas roots and my faith, my family and my community that has guided my entire life and guides me today.
My liberty to bring my wheat, my ideas, the product of my labor to market.
Muhammad Ali was my husband, my first love, my best friend and also my legacy.
My values and my work that I've done my whole life are in my bones.
I reevaluated my relationship with my father and talked about my fears with my coaches.
That's my Anastasia Beverly Hills eyebrow pencil… my lipstick… my perfume… and then my foundation.
Not my writing or my directing or my producing or cutting or even my acting.
"My family is my biggest success, my best prize and my biggest No. 1 hit."
My exploration is interrupted by my dog jumping on my lap, knocking my computer aside.
You are my strength, my inspiration, my support system and the love of my life.
My first flight was seven days, my second 3.83, my third 159, my fourth 340.
My spirit, or my power, my strength, even my smile––they all come from her.
Exercise has kept my head clear, my mood even, my body predictable, my energy up.
My abortion saved my life, my doctor didn't know that though - my abortion was illegal.
Just file it under lost things—my voice, my iPhone, my judgment, my memory maybe.
As I opened my eyes, my stomach churned, my head spun, and my throat tightened.
It was always the women in my family: my mom, my great-grandmother, my mother.
I've lost my best friend, my sanctuary, my protector, my soul ... I'm lost without you.
I do all my feeding with my left hand and my dunking with my right.
My grief is the square root of my laughter, my laughter that of my grief.
She is my care giver, my therapist, my teacher, and most importantly, my best friend.
I would just stay in my mind thinking of my kids, my baby, my failure.
It came from my life and my marriage and my children and my good health.
I held my left elbow with my right hand, folded my arms to my chest.
I use it for everything, my truck, boat, my rug, my bed, my recliners, everything.
"HAPPY ANNIVERSARY to the love of my life, my best friend, my babies daddy, my strength, my heart and soul, the man that puts up with my madness," she gushed.
I make my way there with my mat, getting some weird looks because I am carrying my backpack, my reusable water bottle, my reusable coffee cup, and my yoga mat.
The future of my job, my friends, my family, and my relationship with my partner all rest on who wins on November 8.
"I have to move on with my life & count my blessings, my family, my health, & my beautiful baby True," she wrote on Twitter.
I like my curls, I like my lashes, I like my party dresses, I like my blonde hair, I like my long hair.
I love what I am inheriting as a Jew – my traditions, my stories, my history, my prayers, my jokes about such small portions.
I used to read comments about my face, my skin, my nose, my eyes, and even my beauty marks people didn't approve of.
I'm checking my pockets: my phone is in my zippered left breast pocket and my keys are in my zippered right breast pocket.
"My mom is the chairperson of my Board of Directors, but my Dad is my CEO and also my investment idol," she said.
My mom was definitely in my life, but my dad was not, and I didn't live with my mom all of my childhood.
My femininity isn't in my breasts or the shape or size of my body: My femininity is in every ounce of my being.
Those experiences affected essential aspects of my life — my sexuality, my creativity, my health and well-being, not to mention my self-worth.
In piles and jumbles in my library, near my bed, on my desk, in my car, in the hallways of my apartment — everywhere!
I was honest with him when we were talking about my intense ambition, my ambivalence about my then-relationship, my attraction to a writing workshop classmate, the near-constant foghorn of shame I felt at the beginning and end of every day, my (I thought, extraordinary) insecurity, my fear of my graduate school professors, my intense desire to be loved and my belief that I was somehow an inappropriate and unqualified candidate for human intimacy, my sexual problems, my familial challenges, my thesis, my qualifying exams, my scheduled and then experienced brain surgery, my scheduled (and then experienced) heart surgery.
My father was on my right, and my three siblings were lined up to my left.
My passion is reserved for my twin toddlers, my husband, my happiness, health, and well-being.
She was my daughter, but she was my confident and my friend and my little buddy.
In one fell swoop, my stroke had stolen my whole world: my future and my value.
My finger hovered nervously over my screen and my entire iMessage history flashed before my eyes.
Oh my phone, I would fiddle between different apps — my bank, my budget, my credit cards.
"My mother was my teacher, my girlfriend, my doctor when I got sick," Ms. Toll said.
" She added of where the bees stung her, "My head, my shoulders, my arms, my fingers.
I ask for my keys and shuffle to my car while my roommate fills my prescriptions.
My back is straight, my ankle is stretched, my head is high, and my hips sway.
I'm a survivor, and I see my mother, my sister, my father, my brother as zombies.
I have my friends and my girlfriend on the Find My Friends app on my iPhone.
What my classmate saw instead was my eyes focused on my own chest—my 32DDD chest.
My love for my boys, for my motherhood, shifted how I saw my cancer from within.
I broke my back and shattered my tailbone, my pelvis in five places, my left femur.
Epstein "robbed me of my youth, my identity, my innocence and my self-worth," she said.
My dad's Australian and my mom is Cuban, and my mom's black and my dad's white.
I'm out there on my own schedule, with my truck, my dogs, my gun—I'm free.
I never tried to persuade my roommate to accept my side, my choice or my views.
"My wife, my daughter and my son have my first loyalty and always will," Cohen said.
She asked about my family, my job, my general feelings and my odds of going home.
"My wife, my daughter, and my son have my first loyalty and always will," Cohen said.
In my family, it's pinocle, that I play with my parents, my grandparents, my siblings, cousins.
My back had been really bothering me, or my shoulder, or my knee, or my hip.
First I sketched my left hand with my right — and then my right with my left.
My crotch was raw, my legs were spent and my feet ached from my cycling shoes.
I don't want to be like my grandparents, my cousins, my aunts, or my uncles, either.
My dad has been my protector and my guide, but he is also my mirror image.
My poor English was ridiculed by my comrades, my Breton-accented French by my beleaguered teachers.
My natural rights, my civil rights, my political rights, my judicial rights, are all alike ignored.
My ex and I packed up my things, my dog, and hopped into my Honda Civic.
But my sister and my-- one of my good friends and my niece were all there.
My iPhone is my most-used device, followed by my Apple TV, followed by my iPad.
My identity, my politics, my community, and my sense of self is a work in progress.
All those lost years, my mother, my father, Raymond and Patsy, my wife, and my kids.
Fifty dollars or so goes to my telephone bill, then my food, my toiletries, my transportation.
I felt unworthy of having anything good in my life -- my family, my friends, my job.
Most days my binder is my best weapon in war, my favorite comfort, my biggest validation.
""About an hour into my pushing, my doctor said 'This should be your final push' and I tucked my chin to my chest, I balanced my camera on my stomach, I looked in my viewfinder, and started shooting.
I always have my ENO Hammock (Christmas gift from my brother) in my car, so I drive over to my favorite spot to continue my book while laying in my hammock.
Could it have served as one more safety lock on the door not just to my womb, but also to my figure, my marriage, my home, my career, my gym routine?
Asked if anyone died, he responded quickly: "My mother, my brother, his wife, his son, my sister, my wife, my daughter, my uncle, his wife and their two children," he says.
It was my mom, my grandma who passed away a few years ago—my grandma raised me, she was like my homie, my best friend—my partner at the time, myself.
" In the video for lead single, "My My My!
My jealousy, my insecurities, my fears — those were mine.
Renee is forever my rock, my life & my soulmate!
" Darling adds, "My altar is my place to set my intentions, to focus my energy, to remind me of my connection to the divine.
Never in my life have I witnessed a man in my family cry—not my grandfathers, not my father, and not my older brothers.
I blame it for my rage, my violence, my bullying and my inability to feel loved, for my need for praise and constant reassurance.
As an adult, my decisions are my own, and my family has nothing whatsoever to do with my social media accounts or my podcast.
I laid on a wedge-shaped sex pillow on my back with my legs pulled over my head and my knees by my ears.
My mom, my sisters, my aunts, every woman in my family was educated and independent, and that was something my mother instilled in me.
Here's one of my favorites, from Richard Lederer: My first represents company, My second shuns company, My third assembles company, My whole perplexes company.
Mr Harding quotes an old Somali proverb: Me and my clan against the world;Me and my family against my clan;Me and my brother against my family;Me against my brother.
"For this song, what I want to do is put a little cool stutter in it, like, you know, 'My-my-my-my-my-my Sharona,'" Folds told the Pier 17 audience.
It gave me my wife, my children, my grandchildren, my first home, my first car, my first film salary … I now can't see myself wanting to live anywhere else," Bachchan told "Trailblazers.
My focus is going fully into my projects, building my empire and taking care of my family.
I'm in touch with my office everyday: my private office, my Kingdom [Holding] office, my philanthropic entities.
"My success… it started as my dream, and now my success is not my own," she confessed.
My apartment is riddled with internet-connected devices, including my TV, my lightbulbs, and my home speaker.
My left femur went thru my knee joint and fractured my tibia, and tore my left MCL.
Two of my children are gone, my cousins, my sister, my brother in law and their children.
Pressing my knees together tightly, I explained my situation, my childhood, how I felt about my body.
"My wife, my daughter and my son have my first loyalty and always will," Cohen told ABC.
I told them I don't need my son without my wife, or my wife without my son.
Where do I — my likes and dislikes, my hobbies, my habits — end, and my mental illness begins?
I send them my songs, my jokes, my poems and stories — these are my blurry blossom photos.
I had my iPhone in my right hand and my then infant daughter on my left hip.
My main priority right now is my family, my work, and my community, I would console myself.
" As Johnny Depp once put it, "My body is my journal, and my tattoos are my story.
I very much have my own life, my own money, my own daughter and my own career.
My stomach isn't the same, my waist isn't the same, my butt's bigger, my thighs [are] bigger.
It spread to my liver, my spleen, lymph nodes, lungs, bones, my abdomen and my chest well.
No, my judgments about my appearance didn't disappear, nor did my instinct to then judge my judgments.
"My heart, my soul, my feelings, my body…" • Want to keep up with the latest crime coverage?
You are my comfort blanket, my idol, my confidant, my built in best friend, and, of course,
Does not help my family (Me, my sister, my brother, and my mother) in our healing process.
My jaw fell — my eyes welled with tears — my stomach dropped and my whole body got hot.
I always have my hands around my face, or I've just put my hands under my nose.
I'm the only person on this earth who has my smile, my walk, my touch, my energy.
"I will sell my land, my house, my motorcycle and everything but I will save my child."
I headed to transition with my Garmin on my left hand and my wetsuit in my right.
The pain seemed to come from my skin and my muscles and my joints and my bones.
They went through my phone they called my friend from my German phone used all my minutes.
Well my fingertips come down to my knees when I stand with my arms at my side.
My communications, my navigating, my hope of rescue, all relied on electricity provided by my solar panel.
"The message I'm getting is my government doesn't care about my life, my health, my well-being."
Now my happiness and my health comes first, then my family and my friends, and then work.
Of course, in my recollection, my mother would rabidly come to my defense, almost to my embarrassment.
It's an unapologetic assertion of my pride in my braid art, my culture, and my African ancestry.
"Not just my friends, but my sisters, my mentors, my inspiration — artists, poets, activists, women," Lively wrote.
My obligation right now is to do well for myself, my family, my employees, for my companies.
What happens when someone in my care reminds me of my boyfriend, my brother, my best friend?
My obligation right now is to do well for myself, my family, my employees, for my companies.
My fan, my beloved fan, would not only save my sleep, she would save my dating life.
It was as if someone was inside my head judging my feelings, my thoughts, and my emotions.
My aunt asked about my mother, and my cousin interrupted and said that my mother was fine.
I closed my eyes and felt the dabbing on my forehead, on my neck, around my mouth.
I put my hand on my neck and three of my fingers went deep inside my throat.
How can I build my home around my lifestyle instead of building my lifestyle around my home?
Then I raise my arms, roll my shoulders and wake up my muscles and all my bones.
Solo travel has done wonders for my confidence, my budget, my creativity, even my life at home.
I knew it was the best decision for me, my family, my staff, my colleagues, my community.
Next to my evening glass of whiskey are my Kindle, my iPad, and my Bluetooth hearing aids.
"My pants, my bra, the hair from my head, the armpit and my private parts," she says.
"My wife, my daughter and my son have my first loyalty and always will," Mr. Cohen said.
This is my story, my truth, my emotions and my view on what has happened in the last five or six years of my life.
One of my brothers is my mom and her partner Molly's child, and my other brother is the child of my mom and my dad.
" He added: "My job is to lead my family, my job is to lead my wife, my job is to lead in whatever I do.
I stand behind my statement that I made to George Stephanopoulos, that my wife, my daughter, my son have my first loyalty and always will.
I bit my nails and chewed off the skin around them, sucked on my hair, jiggled my legs, tapped my fingers, picked at my scalp.
It took pushing past my fear and finding a community of other beautiful bald women online to realize that my identity isn't merely my hair, it's my personality, my thoughts, and my actions.
My bones feel a bit weaker, my back, my everything.
She stole from my body, my mind and my soul.
He picked out my music, my clothes and my ideas.
He was my heart, my soul, and my entire world.
My lower back throbbed; my shoulders — even my wrists — hurt.
"My Fire Ox, My Brother, My Soul Sister," she wrote.
The screen is my canvas; my words are my brushstrokes.
She was my first child, my companion and my friend.
She had made me: my skin, my bones, my blood.
I also offer my openness, my listening, and my sincerity.
My family had problems with my dad hitting my mom.
I organized my thoughts, my emotions, and my next steps.
It includes my health care, my taxes, and my retirement.
My hair was my everything; it was my security blanket.
Why did they target my father, my mother, my sister?
My husband is my greatest protector and my biggest supporter.
These are my personal and my "order my life" books.
My children, my daughter is 14, my son is 9.
" "My amazing children and my beautiful grandbabies are my everything!!
My wig, my brain, my soul — consider it all snatched.
My parents had always been my bridge to my culture.
Recently, I feel my lips, my nose and my mouth.
Jessica Chou: My cell phone, my passport, my house keys.
She was my mentor, my hero, my inspiration and motivator.
I see my father's jawline, my husband's lips, my eyes.
My Dad has been my best friend my entire life.
In my words, in my actions, and in my dreams.
I dedicated my life to my music, my saving grace.
Jaz Limos: My cousin was my barber, cutting my hair.
I think my blessing and my curse is my authenticity.
My dad, my car and my dog and everything around.
Landed on my a– with my pants by my knees.
They killed my grandfather and my mother and my father. . . .
The decade had claimed my family, my mother, my security.
"It is my country, my city, my people," he said.
Alana: Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.
Writing, moving my arm, my wrist, my hand, was effortful.
I have my parents, my brothers, my home, and Gadhafi.
My uncle, my father, my brother — they were all slaughtered.
My experience eating my placenta is up on my app!
My eyes were still my eyes, my face was calm.
Armand Van Helden – My My My (Original Club Mix)04.
My skin was scalded from my gums to my nose.
My mom came, my dad came, my sisters came down.
But it definitely affected my weight, my approach, my speed.
So to my mother, my uncle, my grandma, thank y'all.
Absolutely. My friends and my family are my great muses.
My uncle, my dad, and my stepmom knew about it.
My respect for my company and my colleagues remains unconditional.
On my road trip, my camera will be my iPhone.
My person is my best friend in my old town.
Alex is my soulmate, my husband, and my best friend.
My heartbeat would fill my ears and zap my brain.
Then I'll switch my shirt, my bar and my dad.
In reality, I love my life, my family, my boyfriend.
I live with my sister, my mom and my aunt.
"My kids and my work are my life," she says.
"My arms and my legs are my motor," he said.
"He was my love, my rock, my protector," she wrote.
"I have my bar, my bodega, my McDonald's," she said.
My judge and my jury is my lord, Jesus Christ.
Then everyone started dying — my aunt, my brother, my mother.
Not my clue, not my president, not my breakfast test.
Even my mom and my brother and my family members.
They have become my friends, my mentors and my confidants.
I always call my tattoos my jewelry — that's my ornamentation.
Getting my first callback, my first agent, my union card.
My house was destroyed, my children, my husband all collapsed.
"Whitney's my best friend, my life, my future," he said.
My relationship with my wife and my family rapidly deteriorated.
My, my, my – aren't I pretty sight for sore eyes?
Neither my ex nor my family knew of my whereabouts.
"For me my fashion and my style is connected to my philanthropy and my community," she told PeopleStyle.
It's fine that my watch tracks my fitness and my bathroom scale keeps a record of my weight.
My wife, my children and my family have steadfastly been by my side every second of this journey.
Anytime I walked into the studio, my problems, my past, my trauma, my sexuality—none of it mattered.
"My dad, my brother, my mom, they are all my friends, I love them so much," he continued.
I went to my daughter's room, and on my way I hit my shoulder and hurt my knee.
I have such non-Western beauty features like my nose, my eyes, my lips, even my huge cheeks.
Lauren is my everything, Lauren is my best friend, she is my soulmate, she is my better half.
In my head, Fran is my spirit animal, Dustin is my best friend, and Asante is my cousin.
I made my way back to my bedroom, where I removed my fur, and flopped on my bed.
"I love u my loveee my babies my friends and OHANA to my cast and crew," he added.
"My show is about my life and my kids are a huge part of my life," she wrote.
"My pillar, my left and right hands, and my unconditional support are in my husband Daniel," Guerrera said.
My breath caught in my chest as my fingers ventured down, under the black lace of my panties.
I wish it was all in my belly, but it was on my arms, my thighs, my ass.
My -- my -- my mission in my private briefing was, just, to tell him about that slice of it.
My nails were brittle, my hair was falling out, my period was MIA, and my energy had tanked.
Stout: I gave up my job, mortgaged my house, spent my life savings -- worried my wife to death!
I think my followers see that in my work and are inspired by my commitment to my craft.
"I was at war to defend my family, my children, my home and my freedom," Mr. Kovzhun wrote.
This dress quickly became my favorite item from my Nuuly order — and my favorite thing in my closet.
"My acceptance of myself, my ethnicity, my blackness, my everything is there whether or not I have hair."
My face goes beet red, my hands race to cover my gaping mouth, and she shakes my hand.
Finally my job is going to align with my soul, with my heart, with my reason for being.
If I sing "Over the Rainbow," it's my singing with my life and my voice and my experience.
I wanted to defend my sexuality, what I wore, my Blackness, my Mexican-ness, My Native American-ness.
I've got my costume, I've got my music, glitter, fringe, and my boobs… I'm hiding behind my boobs.
He was my husband, my best friend, my love, my partner and the father of our two sons.
"Wow, you've got a beautiful smile," he said, idly stroking my waist, my stomach, my hips, my thighs.
Soon after my Jedi Academy outing, I opened up to my friends, my sister, and eventually my parents.
No disrespect to Vetements, but my mom, my dad, my auntie, my great-grandmother know what Louis is.
At my school i don't have a chance to ever express my culture, my family, or my personality.
"The impact tore my iris, nearly ruptured my eyeball, lacerated my skin and broke my nose," she recalled.
"The impact tore my iris, nearly ruptured my eyeball, lacerated my skin and broke my nose," she recalled.
But my husband thinks it's my responsibility to change my behavior, not my parents' job to change theirs.
"Ryan's mom, Ryan's sister, my mom, my sisters, my grandma are all my fashion guinea pigs," Mendes explains.
I looked up to my father and my mother as my biggest heroes in my every day life.
" She said they came to arrest her children "my Manucher, my Mehrdad, my daughter-in-law, my grandchild.
All these choices were still shaping my life in palpable ways: my geography, my class, my psychological makeup.
"I have left my home, my family and my job, and I am raising my voice," he wrote.
I pushed, the obstetrician pulled, my doula held my leg back and my mom propped my head up.
I laid down on my stomach, pulled up my left knee, and folded my arms under my head.
I leverage everything against my ideals and my integrity and my morality, my moral compass, I should say.
No. It has crossed my mind, but my family, my business, and my friends are all in Uganda.
I finally convinced myself of the truth–I am beautiful; my skin, my hair, my nose, my thoughts and everything else that my younger self despised.
I spent the majority of my life away from my family, not only my immediate family, my brothers and sisters, but my own wife and children.
Stacey Abrams was a needed affirmation that my body type, my hair, my finances nor my marital status discounted my potential to lead or make change.
"I am angry about every single time something like that has happened to me, my friends, my mom, my sister, my cousins, my aunts," she said.
He commented on my profile in the conference booklet, where I had credited my family, my doctors and nurses, and my support group for my life.
During my brief tenure, my boss has increased my responsibilities, promoted me and proposed changing my position to be more in line with my previous employment.
CN: One of my idiot friends, apparently, took this survey and shared my data, including my "Likes" and my posts, and maybe even my Facebook messages.
I know that my sister looked at my bleeding skull, my hands clutched around my midsection, and ordered my parents to drive me to the hospital.
I did everything in my power to make sure I was up to the best of my football ability: my speed, my strength, my route running.
I completed all eight steps (my contact info, my roommate's contact info, Venmo's contact info, my bank, my roommates' bank) to the best of my knowledge.
While I eat, I organize my finances: pay my credit card bill, move money from my savings to my checking for upcoming wedding expenses, and move $2,000 from my savings into my investment account.
I could make a big pronouncement of how I'm going to organize everything in my life much better — my business, my career, my relationships, my schedule, my entire life — which is the end goal.
Instead of walking in my front door, and hanging out with my kids, I go through my back door, immediately throw my scrubs into my laundry and then change before I see my family.
My hyperawareness of how my Dell hid my privilege and how my Mac hid my financial need pushed me to be aware of what complicated stories were hiding behind my classmates' seemingly simple facades.
I became complicit with them in the destruction of my past and all that my failure represented: my undisciplined body, my lack of feminine grace, my inability to be white enough, my rage, and my inability to assimilate completely into American culture.
In my occasional thoughts about my own mortality, I have envisioned scenarios of my sons going through my things: tossing my files into the recycling bin, sending my books to a bookseller, laughing at my lifetime habit of stuffing receipts into drawers.
"I try now in my relationships with my friends and my girls and my kids, my son, to pay attention to things like that," Jenner tells PEOPLE.
I wish I could do it with my lights, my TV, my fan, my air conditioner, and every other gadget plugged into my smart home setup, too.
There's a photo in my family album of my great-grandfather with my grandfather, my dad, and my brother when he was just a few days old.
"Loved spending my bday with my bestie for life @jenniegarth My rock, my sister, my bff xoxo," Spelling, 45, captioned a photo of herself and Garth, 46.
During my stay, a social worker saw me regularly, focusing on my emotional numbness and how it had hurt my marriage and my relationship with my children.
I realized that my previous goals and aspirations were, in a way, determined by people in my life, like my mom, and my family, and my friends.
For months afterwards, I'd be sitting at my desk when my thoughts would flit to my father or my grandmother and tears would well in my eyes.
With my daughters in my lap and my husband to my left, the familiar words began, and the songs and prayers of my childhood filled the room.
"You were there for everything, my first prom, my basketball games, my art shows, and my graduation," she wrote.
You still see my face, it's still my nose, and it's still my eyes — but my skin looks different.
When that show aired it reminded my of my relationship with my mom," or, "That happened to my sister.
For the first time, I realize that my body is my best friend, is my home, is my everything.
" She continued, "I very much have my own life, my own money, my own daughter and my own career.
Many of my features relate back to my heritage, but looking around, nobody in my family had my nose.
Later, in my twenties, worries about my vagina would enter my mind often — too often for my own good.
"My favorite [downtime activity] would be hanging out with my husband, my kids and my dog [Josie]!" she says.
I get up and do my morning routine — brush my teeth, wash my face, moisturize, and curl my hair.
"My conduct has brought shame upon myself, my lovely wife, upon my family and upon my country," he said.
You have people in my life, like my boyfriend, who love my curls and prefer my more natural look.
My body aches, my head is pounding, and my throat feels like it might fall out of my neck.
"I'm scared if my house will be burned and also if my room, my stuff, my clothes," she says.
I just couldn't believe that my craft, my brain, and my tenacity were being overlooked because of my size.
Bouncing on my knees, I thrust my hand between my legs to finger my clit as he penetrated me.
I always loved being able to play in my yard with my animals, and my dog, and my friends.
For the past month Rent-A-Center has been calling my cell, my job, my mother, my personal references.
My tattoos are part of my identity, part of my body, and my body is mine and mine alone.
My boyfriend, who will be accompanying me on my journey, will email my editor a draft on my behalf.
It affected every aspect of my involvement: my ability to improve talent-wise, my care, my choosing projects, etc.
Besides my mom, my brother, my grandma, and most of my aunts and uncles all manage the condition too.
My sister Victoria is my apprentice and trained colleague, and my cousin Anthony is the manager of my salon.
I owe it my relationship, my adventurous lifestyle, some of my best work, and much of my mental health.
I just go off to my Greek islands drink my drink my Greek wine, fish and have my yogurt.
She's taken maybe forty or fifty Polaroids of my wife, my son, myself, my mother, my stepfather, our dogs.
I was so lucky to have had you in my life as my teacher, my colleague, and my friend.
Unlike my dad, my grandparents (who own a local fertilizing company), my uncle, and my cousin still live there.
I grabbed my phone from my night stand, typed out my post from my heart and went to bed.
Talking things through with my mom, my sisters, my friends let me know that my feelings are totally normal.
But after I realized what happened, I had video calls with my team, my coach, my family, my grandma.
I brought myself back to my mantra and acknowledged my flawed skin by massaging my head with my fingertips.
I talk to my girlfriend and my mum who I live with and my boss and my band mates.
So, I raise my glass to my 20s, my body a little pudgier, my forehead a little more lined.
I was also severely injured during my combat duty; my back broken, my lung collapsed and my shoulder destroyed.
"My wife, my daughter and my son have my first loyalty and always will," Cohen said at the time.
My dad went to Palestine and brought all my uncles and my aunties and my cousins (back with him).
"My wife, my daughter and my son have my first loyalty and always will," Cohen told ABC's George Stephanopoulos.
After that, my SeaPass became not only my room key, but also my sole ID and my credit card.
I embraced my independence, my outspoken nature, my wit, my smarts, and, also, the flaws that make me me.
My heart rate shoots up—I feel the erratic thump thump banging against my ears, my stomach, my eyes.
I hold my nose and shake my head in my dream, and I actually wake up shaking my head.
And my body is quite feminine, my legs and my hips in particular, as my dad always reminds me.
I will pray for my church and my country, especially the people my church and my country are failing.
My sister is behind my other family in my priorities, and frankly she drives my husband and me crazy.
But my entire family, basically — my mom, my sisters, my aunt, cousins, uncle — they all live on the reservation.
"They didn't manage to destroy my love for life, my love for my country, and my love for people."
Writing a book like that forced me to confront my faults, my fears and my aspirations for my children.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend — and the enemy of my worst enemy is my best friend.
Negative stereotypes of Chinese women have impacted my life, the life of my mother, my sisters, and my friends.
"I knew it was the best decision for me, my family, my staff, my colleagues, my community," she wrote.
My car insurance is high because I have accidents on my recordI know my my insurance is incredibly high.
My morning routine is pretty simple — put on my contacts, brush my teeth and apply sunscreen on my face.
"I want to express to François Hollande my emotion, my respect, my loyalty and my affection," Mr. Valls added.
My job, my house, my car, even my family… every luxury I enjoyed but a week ago, has vanished.
"Instead, it came directly to my island where my entire family, my friends, my loved ones were," Capron said.
The father of my children has raged in front of my family, my neighbors, my friends, and even strangers.
I never call my half siblings my "half siblings" and I never call my adopted brother my "adopted brother".
"I have left my home, my family and my job, and I am raising my voice," Mr. Khashoggi wrote.
"It was as if someone was inside my head judging my feelings, my thoughts, and my emotions," Bill said.
Even though I should have my head between my knees, looking at my shoes, my gaze is turned upward.
"My films depict my sexual exploration and my curiosities," Morgana says.
Of my identity, of my prayers, and of my people's story.
He's honestly my best friend, my rock and my better half.
I have my sister helping me, my parents, my husband's parents.
My mixes are sonic representations of my life and my struggle.
"My favorite part of my body is my strength," Upton says.
That my look, my choices, my sound, that it wouldn't work.
I went with my mom and my sister and my ex.
My immigration status doesn't just affect my relationships with my family.
My hearing loss has changed my identity, my sense of self.
It never changed my love and my feelings for my dad.
I wasn't expressing my values in my spending or my life.
My mum and my dad, and all my uncles and aunts.
I brush my teeth, wash my face, and do my makeup.
By my retreat's end, my studio is wallpapered with my goals.
My ankle is off and my knee hurts from my fall.
You'll see people question my past, my intentions and my character.
My grandmother was my second mother for most of my life.
This is my stress reliever, my music maker, and my friend.
This could happen to my best girlfriend, my sister, my mom.
My butt's bigger, my boobs are bigger, my waist is smaller.
I was in excruciating pain, my shoulder, my neck, my back.
I share my Netflix account with my family (my dad pays).
Because that's my strength, my faith, my hope for something better.
"My coaches are my girls — they're my biggest critics," Rodriguez says.
All my friends went, my parents went and my grandparents went.
It's where my vision for my career, my experience, was at.
It's just my way out, my way of resting my mind.
My sister was my best friend and my hero growing up.
"My brain and my wit far surpass my boobs," she said.
"My angel, my king, my universe," she wrote at the time.
Thank you, Miss Alice, my dear friend, my inspiration, my family.
But my job is to promote my music, not my relationship.
He knows every inch of my face, my heart, my soul.
Mattie was my son, and my student and my conversation buddy.
She poked needles into my calves, my hands, and my face.
My loyalties are with my community and fighting for my community.
Death threats, attacks on my faith, my appearance, my family etc.
"Happy Birthday to my wife, my love, my Laurens," he wrote.
I went with my mom and my brother and my girlfriend.
It is my talisman, my big brag, my stalwart conversation starter.
It affected my stomach, my memory, and my sense of tolerance.
"Kiara: "Yeah, my husband, but that's my husband, not my friend!
He places his hands on my head, my arms, my stomach.
I reached my hands under my shirt and squeezed my breasts.
My first instinct is to tell my brother about my condition.
My instincts and my experience help make up for my age.
When I outgrew my tricycle, my mother never replaced my wheels.
I called my companions to my side and wrote my will.
My rule forces me to align my spending with my priorities.
But they started calling my parents, my grandparents, my past employers.
Nelson and Miller—these are my brethren, my bros, my paisans.
It contained my dreams, my freedom, and my chance to ascend.
The men who are my lovers, my friends and my family?
My husband doesn't need a leash; my hair is my leash.
I imagine them scrutinizing my body, my voice, even my hobbies.
I look at my dog as my art, as my canvas.
I get out my tools, my hammer and my electric drill.
My particular type increases my muscle tone and hinders my balance.
"I've lost my past, my present, and my future," she says.
My weight-lifting period, my starvation period, my deeply reckless period.
I lost my angel baby and my best friend, my mother.
My legs rose alongside my grandfather's as my head tipped back.
She is my lonely times, my scared times, my exuberant times.
But I still have my grief, my anger, and my sadness.
I worry about my family, my friends, my city, and others.
Physical therapy is for my knees, my rotator cuff, my back.
"I miss my friends, my social life, my work," he says.
That I convey my passion for my subject to my students.
I stow my purse and close my eyes behind my sunglasses.
When my rheumatoid arthritis hit, my relationship with my husband changed.
My food choices are guided by my conscience and my religion.
I will give that person my time, my money, my soul.
It's my workplace, my lunchroom, my pit of never-ending chores.
I've written about my codependent relationships, my family, my mental health.
My life dream was that my mother [would] choose my bride.
And my beautiful husband, my daughter Genesis, loves of my life.
"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," she says.
"It's about my life, my family, my friends, dating," she said.
My kids are there, my brothers, my sisters, they're all there.
We&aposre minutes from my sister, my mom, and my brother.
It is my attempt to reconcile my ambition with my responsibilities.
" — JAMES CORDEN "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!
Well, my pants, my tights and my top are from Uniqlo.
My teacher was my girlfriend then, who is now my wife.
He threatened to sell my husband, my sons—all my boys.
They took my belt and tied my hands behind my back.
Though I adored my primary care physician—who managed to ask me about my sleep habits, my dry skin, my yoga practice, my breakfast preferences, my Facebook password, and pretty much every last detail of my life other than my sex situation (jk about breakfast and Facebook)—I didn't feel comfortable bringing up the explicit details of my sex life.
Dental Insurance: $42.90; my half: $21.45Utilities: $190; my half: $95Groceries: $480; my half: $403 Restaurants: $200; my half: $100 Gas: $120; my half: $60Car insurance: $80; my half: $40 Netflix: $9; my half: $4.50Renter's Insurance: $120 per year; my half: $2013Phone Bill: Free; both of us are still on our families' plans.
A week after delivering my son, I had a team of nurses to empty the buckets collecting urine at the foot of my bed, my husband to hold my hand and comb my hair, and my entire family to welcome my son to the world.
As a freelancer, I was upfront with him about personal factors that affected my level of involvement with his organization: my romantic relationship, my fear of working far from my family, my desire to make time in my work schedule for my own writing.
Because of my belief in myself, my work, and my ability to monetize my mind and my life, I have created a brand that impacts hundreds of thousands of women through my free and paid offers.
"My hyperawareness of how my Dell hid my privilege and how my Mac hid my financial need pushed me to be aware of what complicated stories were hiding behind my classmates' seemingly simple facades," she wrote.
I hated my body — my too-short, too-fat body and its penchant for carrying most of my extra pounds disproportionately in my chest and around my middle.
My real-world friends read the comments about my divorce, my parenting, my forays into the world of dating, and they sent me emails, furious on my behalf.
So I studied my history, I studied my past, and I put every mistake, all of my triumphs, my 22-year career into my two-hour Homecoming performance.
People will surround me and slowly attach one filled balloon after another—my silvers, my blues, my greens, my yellows, tying them to my outstretched arms and legs.
In the twelve years that followed, he became my friend, my hero, my most trusted confidante, my dance partner (even though we're both terrible dancers), and my father.
So, I want my kids to have all of me, I want my husband, I want my mom and dad, my brother, my friends and, of course, work.
"The majority of them, they say, 'I miss my family, my country, my culture, my society, but the main thing that I miss is my mum,'" he said.
I quickly run my ColourPop brow pencil through my brows, curl my lashes, and put on mascara before getting out of my car and running into my office.
When I was forced to leave the house or meet with people, my embarrassment at my wheelchair, my body, my clothes, and my empty life was all-consuming.
Once my application was found to meet the eligibility criteria, the CICB had me collect reports from my hospital, my counselors, and my employer to support my claims.
I've just been honing my skills over time, from my crayon puzzles to my newspaper publications to my puzzle website to my connections to the crossword puzzle community.
"I spent the last 20 years of my life coming to Taos with my dad, my sisters, my grandparents lived here, my uncle still lives here," she said.
The charged air sparked my endurance, and even though my hands hurt, my rear end hurt, my thighs hurt (everything hurt), I could feel my resistance melt away.
Like many Americans, I try my best to do the small affirming things in my family and in my community that express my love and reaffirm my values.
CreditCreditMaria Mavropoulou for The New York Times Opinion Columnist CHIOS, Greece — Over my 54 years, I've pinned my hopes on my parents, my teachers, my romantic partners, God.
This is so new, it's only my third day of using my rotary phone over my primary phone, but I've been keeping my flip phone in my pocketbook.
Their families spent life savings and endangered their own security trying to answer one question: What happened to my son, my brother, my sister, my wife, my cousin?
My therapist grew up with my neighbor, whose ex-wife was my friend, and whose lawyer is now my friend, and whose new wife is also my friend.
The benefits my phone has for my life is that I can stay connected with a lot of my peers around Oregon or my friends at my school.
That's because it's always been my wish to live in my country, with my entire family, and among my people.
My goals moving forward are to be of benefit to my family, my community, my country and hopefully the world.
"My weight and my personal image of my body has been something I've struggled with all my life," she says.
I control what I can control: my involvement, my performance, my knowledge of the playbook, my respect for the coaches.
That cast and crew will have my love, my respect and my deep gratitude until the end of my days.
As a young girl, I never thought twice about having my gymnastics coaches touch my legs, my hips, my butt.
I put my hands on my hips, and focused on keeping my weight evenly distributed on my foot, which helped.
When I wake up the next morning, I'm wearing my T-shirt, my bra, my skirt, and my white sneakers.
"My future was very much 'at-risk' because of my behavior and my actions and my attitude," Woodle tells Mashable.
"6 months ago today I lost my college sophomore, my only child, my son, my best friend," Eric, 55, tweeted.
"I have left my home, my family and my job, and I am raising my voice," he wrote in September.
But these stereotypes of what it means to be Latinx take away my choice, my complexity, my humanity, my queerness.
My body and my mind are not my enemies, and the lie of assimilation and acceptance is not my savior.
I check my emails and then shower in my suite, do my makeup, and get ready for my morning appointment.
My father's passing comes with sorrow and grief for me, for my mother, for my brothers, and for my sisters.
"I started to claim confidence in my cellulite and my back fat and my cellulite on my arms," she said.
At my darkest hour, after losing my dad—who was my best friend—it felt like I found my light.
Only my immediate family, my parents and my brothers, are in the States; my entire extended family was [in Syria].
From my dad, to my brothers, & my incredible fiancé, the men in my life are, and will be, amazing fathers.
To make it come back, I turned my palm toward my face and pulled my hand in toward my body.
It's helped me meet my savings goals, track my spending, and make sure my money is aligned with my values.
On my surgery day, my anxiety was through the roof, but I tried my best to find my happy place.
In my mind, I had lost my normal, my family, my wonderful husband that I had thought would be forever.
My love life changed, my day-to-day life changed, my self love with myself changed, my career started changing.
I've leveraged my talent, my creative interests, my aptitude and training and my sense of adventure into a fulfilling career.
I climb up and find a seat, stuff my rucksack between my legs, and place my backpack on my lap.
I know people care about my family -- they love my brother, they love my dad and they love my mom.
But get used to me—black, confident, cocky; my name, not yours; my religion, not yours; my goals, my own.
My body, my eating habits, and my fitness may be evolving, but my mind has a hard time seeing that.
Louie Swisher: Honestly, the only gadgets I'm using are my phone and my headphones and my speakers and my Xbox.
"My last family vacation was when I went to France with my mom, my aunt, and my grandma," he says.
I felt so proud of my diving into pleasure, my success at being more present, my feeling in my body.
Defeated, I binge-ate on the floor of my kitchen, hating myself for my ears, my arm hair, my thighs.
I'm engaged, expecting a baby, my fiancée is my manager, my caddie's one of my best mates in the world.
I pay my CPA $350 each year to file my taxes, but I handle my regular bookkeeping on my own.
In my small eyes, and my smooth withered skin, you can see my heart, you can read my naked lips.
I've earned my bachelor's and master's degrees, my education funded by my mom's housekeeping and my dad's carpet-layer salaries.
Encountering people who didn't share my god or my dietary habits made me confront my prejudices and realize my privileges.
"To be crystal clear, my wife, my daughter and my son, and this country have my first loyalty," Cohen said.
"My wife, my daughter and my son have my first loyalty and always will," Cohen tells ABC News's George Stephanopoulos.
The sroop to my waffle, the custard to my slice, the chocolat in my pain and hot in my pot.
It was in my sunroof, it was all over my seat, it was in my face, and down my shirt.
I would like to apologize again to my daughter, my husband, my family and the educational community for my actions.
But get used to me -- black, confident, cocky; my name, not yours; my religion, not yours; my goals, my own.
I notice my weak chin, my soft jaw, and the bump in my nose that I got from my mother.
I write about the way I'm craning my neck and curving my back to balance my notebook on my knees.
He tried to reach my heart with his knife three times, but my bones saved me: my ribs, my collarbone.
"The Story of Zahra": It is Lebanon, my childhood, my youth, my pain and my departure out into the world.
"There were so many different things between my feet, my hands, my back, my mental state with it," Muncy said.
How long before my memory deteriorated to the point that I may not remember my partner, my family, my pets?
Now, my bangles sit on my dresser, proudly displayed beside my family photos rather than tucked away beneath my bed.
I end up taking my smaller backpack and my rug as my carry-on and will check my larger backpack.
But get used to me — black, confident, cocky; my name, not yours; my religion, not yours; my goals, my own.
"The enemy sent a letter to my home and they were threatening my life, my daddy, my brother," Jan says.
Now my only focus is my family, my son, starting a new life here in California, where my husband lives.
It is my Velveteen Rabbit, my lucky charm, my suit of armor and my security blanket all rolled into one.
"It's the story of my humdrum plainness, my tiny victories, my lasting bruises, my ordinary hopes and worries," she wrote.
"Well, it's about bringing my personal experience, my personal humor, my personal, um, embarrassments, and my personal pains," he explained.
Almost all of my closest family members owned their home: My grandparents, my great-aunt and, most important, my mother.
I wear a brace that supports my core, and I do all my movement from my neck and my shoulders.
Earrings were easier to remove than my last name, my accent or my tendency to roll my eyes in dissent.
I'm driving my husband's car until he returns from deployment.)Apple Music: $63Acorns: $10 (I have round-up set to my purchases)Medical/Dental/Vision: $19 (I'm on my husband's Tricare plan which is mostly paid for by the Air Force.)Phone: $65401(k) (2x/month): 2% of paycheck, my employer matches up to $600/yearInternet/Electricity/Gas: ~$100-$150 depending on the season (my half, split with my husband)Jewelry/Home/Car Insurance: $115 (my half, split with my husband)Netflix/Hulu: $23 (my half, split with my husband)Cat Litter: $11 (my half, split with my husband)Bark Box: $12 (my half, split with my husband)Amazon Prime: $50 annually (my half, split with my husband)Personal Savings: ~$1,100 Joint Account: ~$300 (My Husband and I ~sort of~ have separate accounts.
When my husband and I are coordinating who gets the house, we have to consider my schedule, my husband's schedule, my boyfriend's schedule, my boyfriend's partner's schedule, my husband's FWB's schedule — it can be a logistical nightmare.
My daughter often uses my or my wife's phone to take photos.
Upon my arrival, my friend already has my margarita waiting for me.
I'm really close to my mom and my family and my sisters.
I know my character, I know my truth, I know my heart.
My mom and my wife and my brother — we all were hyped.
My dedication is still 100 percent to my fitness and my preparation.
I rub my phone against my chest and purr for my surveillers.
I have to raise my girl, raise my wife, raise my family.
My voice shakes, my hands shake, I have butterflies in my stomach.
Living my truth Telling my family wasn't the end of my journey.
My hands were tied behind my back, and I'm on my stomach.
My Ob/Gyn called my room and asked me about my symptoms.
That goes for myself, my mom friends, my mom, or my sister!
I could tell my story, open my soul, and express my emotions.
My livelihood, my social role, would never depend on my love life.
I am watching my sons, my brothers, and my families being killed.
My dog died, my family disintegrated and my mom had a stroke.
I've healed some of my issues with my family, with my relationships.
MY SIX-YEAR-OLD GOT HOLD OF MY PHONE My apologies, Reverend.
And then [my friend] goes, 'Oh, my God, there's my friend John.
I held my sweaty bra in my hands and considered my options.
"My Olympic inspirations are my friends and my fellow athletes," he says.
My own abortion further challenged my beliefs around my faith and life.
I quickly remove my makeup, wash my face, and brush my teeth.
My family and my faith will guide me through my life's journey.
"This affects us, my children, my grandkids, my great-grandkids," Bustos said.
My mother, my father, and my little niece all moved to Canada.
The wives of my three brothers, my younger sister, and my mother.
My parents (mostly my mom, once she divorced) graciously covered my tuition.
I have struggled with my weight and my body my entire life.
"I took all my computers away, my phone, my everything," he explained.
I brush my teeth, wash my face, and put my contacts in.
I said goodbye to my appendix, my breast implants, and my endometriosis.
My love affair, both with my apartment and my boyfriend, was over.
My heartbeat clacked around my body and my intestines felt like cement.
I told my boyfriend, I told my mother, I told my therapist.
I pay my cousin for my share of my grandmother's birthday present.
I wash my face, iron my pants, and prep my morning smoothie.
They are my avatars, my vehicles for self-realization and my escape.
It cost me my relationship with my eldest son and my grandson.
I was alone in my house with my son and my newborn.
My teeth were clamped together, my fingers repeatedly running through my hair.
I do my usual walk to my desk and check my emails.
I love my kids, I love my wife, I love my band.
If [Etan] could, so could my brother, my mother, my sister, me.
Just recently, I started feeling my lips, my nose and my mouth.
In my personal experience I broke my ankle my 22th grade year.
It's my anchor and will always be my edge over my competition.
I dig my fingernails into my palms to stop my own tears.
But my heart and my desire to be – that's my secret weapon.
My lifestyle has massively impacted my career by way of my mindset.
"Diego was everything; my child, my lover, my universe," Frida said. 5.
It was my battle — it was my mother, it was my father.
"She is my best friend, my heart, and my world," Cassidy wrote.
"They stole all my coolers, my grills, my generator," Hardin told KUSA.
"My two feet, my body, my mind are in Cuba," Elián said.
"This has cost me my reputation, my livelihood, my family," he said.
It's got my credit card information, my address, and my phone number.
I was holding my granddaughter, and my wife was holding my daughter.
My legs were tense, my shoulders throbbed and my head was pounding.
It's not starstruck: 'Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.
My mood influences my wardrobe choices more than my relationship status does.
I'm on my Kate Moss shit with my cigarette and my blunt.
I've rolled up my sleeves my entire life to earn my role.
I bought my plane ticket and my convention pass with my money.
I'd returned to my card making when my phone rang: my mother.
So I stayed with my mother, my brother went with my dad.
My first memory is holding my dad's hand and my mother's hand.
This country has witnessed my greatest accomplishments -- my marriage and my sons.
What do I want for myself, my family, my community, my country?
I do my own thing, make my own music, my own style.
My mom did my hair mostly, and sometimes my dad did too.
I remember closing my eyes or keeping my hands over my eyes.
I needed a dark, quiet room, my videos, my bed, my pills.
I'm just trying to enjoy my life, my body, and my food.
He looks at my eyes and my lips and my eyes again.
My L-word troubles are with my boy, my best friend, Kichi.
My name is Sarah, and my favorite toy is My Little Pony!
I keep nitroglycerin in my car, in my backpack, by my bed.
Unfortunately, my refrigerator in my apartment doesn't always comply with my standards.
I pull my phone out of my pocket to check my time.
My therapist recommended that I only meet my father on my terms.
After my workout, I sit in my car to call my parents.
I've got my kids, I've got my rock'n'roll, I've got my vibe.
I put on my N95 and my face shield and my gloves.
My mother, my uncle, my grandfather — there was always singing and guitars.
My primary concern is what is happening to my country, my people.
My ethical obligation here conflicts with my moral obligation, in my view.
Like, my parents, they're 63 each one, my mom and my dad.
I text my sister and my mom about my bleeding this morning.
I texted my husband a snapshot of my results with my disappointment.
Today I give you my hand, my heart and my love forever.
From my small pile is my favorite handkerchief from my daughter Jesse.
"My husband and my son are buried in my garden," she said.
And my family treated me and my sister differently than my brother.
It was my idea, it was my execution, it was my blunder.
In my family, my daughter, my son and I were all adopted.
I heat up my lunch and get my bearings in my email.
I love my country, I love my flag, I love my people.
So that's really important to me — my family, my culture, my heritage.
You are my mentor, my family, the creator of all my dreams.
Reem-Biton was "my heart, my head, and my soul," she said.
I left everything there, I had my television, my books, my computer.
My, my, my, we have come down a long way, haven't we.
Linda Sarsour: For me my hijab is my choice, it's my identity.
But my boys, all my lost boys , that is my highest concern.
My stomach tightened, my body felt weak, tears welled in my eyes.
I'm super grateful for my space and my home and my family.
I'm super grateful for my space and my home and my family.
I have my desktop, my company-issued MacBook Air and my iPhone.
I want to see my daughter and my wife in my dreams.
I sat anxiously at my desk, my trigger finger on my mouse.
"I want my vision, but my vision is my vision," he said.
"I had my dog, my woman, and my pickup truck," Forbis says.
I'd blame my illness, my lack of emotional availability, my allergies, whatever.
She understands all my crazy ideas, my dreams, my sense of humor.
"Fredy could have been my brother, my friend, my neighbor," Mustapha explains.
I want to make my life—my relationships and my experiences—worthy.
This was my friend, and my recorded music was my holy dream.
I keep my connection to my culture and family through my art.
I get up, brush my teeth, wash/moisturize my face, run the straightener through my hair, do my makeup really quickly, and get dressed and put on my Uggs.
" via GIPHY "My best friend back in my early in my early 20s I had just had my first love break my heart and was in a bad place.
Without having my password, and without hacking into my email account, she was able to get my home address, my phone number and steal my hard-earned hotel points.
As a result, the state of Maine divided my father's estate four ways, among my mother, myself, my brother, and my sister — my mother receiving, by law, the majority.
Music took my ears, took my hands, my voice and my soul, and it led me to all of you and my 'Little Monsters,' who I love so much.
As New York University historian Tom Sugrue tweeted: I testified with five people foremost in my mind: my mom, my dad, my wife, and most of all my daughters.
As a result, some of my father's books are my books now: my Dickens and Dostoyevsky, my biology and natural history, my literary fiction and light verse and tragedy.
Sure, my foundation dripped off my body and self-tanner leaked through my clothes, but my plum liquid eyeliner — the nucleus to my copper eye look — was still standing.
The same conversation my grandfather had with my mother and my uncles, that my mother and uncles had with me, I'm going to have to have with my boys.
They give me 220 dollars a week for cleaning dishes, taking care of my dog, doing my own laundry, cleaning my room, cleaning my gameroom, and cleaning my bathroom.
My plans for my retirement savings in my 30s and beyondAs my investment account grows and I get older, I will start shifting some of my assets toward bonds.
To the people who have been at my side during this time – my family, my partners, my employees, my friends, my fans – I am grateful for your support and hopeful that I can regain your respect and trust.
"It's kind of just my life is my art, my body is my medium…the phone is my canvas and video and media [are] the canvas, then social media and the internet [are] my gallery, essentially," she explains.
My housing is usually included in my tuition, but for the summer I'm on my own.)MetroCard: $303Student Loan Payment: $0 (With my parents savings and my financial aid from my school, I don't have any student loans.
To the people who have been at my side during this time — my family, my partners, my employees, my friends, my fans — I am grateful for your support and hopeful that I can regain your respect and trust.
One morning in 2010, while filming the movie " Bridesmaids ," I went into my trailer and saw that our wardrobe department had laid out my dress, my earrings, my headband, my shoes, and—last but not least—my underpants.
I arranged them like little potato puzzle pieces over my nostrils, around my eyes, and under my bangs, each one chilling my skin and reducing my chances of having sex with my boyfriend by about a billion percent.
And then, all these people started cashing in on my band, my music, my image, my name, my pictures, telling my story in books and documentaries, in books, in films and magazines and so on and so on.
"What kept me going even through that difficult time was my knowledge that I would never do anything to compromise my morals, my values, my family, my children, my vote," Mr. Gillum said in an interview this week.
For my last meal before my fast I am loving my "Beastie Bolognese" (see my highlights) I eat it like chili!!!!
It's more than half my face and from my wrist up to the top of my bicep on my right arm.
" Ariana's lyrics -- "My wrists, stop watchin', my neck is flossin' / Make big deposits, my gloss is poppin' / You like my hair?
Music remains my barometer, my crutch, and my teacher as I deal with the challenges that come with my mental illnesses.
Despite the zits, my IUD is my BFF, because it allows me to take my sexual heath into my own hands.
" Cohen told ABC&aposs George Stephanopoulos that "my wife, my daughter and my son have my first loyalty and always will.
On the dreadful night of Wednesday February 22nd 2017, I lost my husband — my soul mate — my friend and my confidante.
So my concerns were less about taking leave and more about managing my home, my work and somewhat keeping my sanity.
Having my baby did not cure my PCOS, my blood-clotting disorder or my body not producing progesterone on its own.
Sticky crust formed all over my scalp, scaly patches extended down my neck, spreading behind my ears, erupting between my fingers.
I got a text from my brother, saying that everybody was okay — my parents, my nephews, my niece, all of them.
"My Twitter feeds into my Instagram, and my daughter will read my Instagram feed, and she'll read the comments," Guggenheim says.
Most of my writing gets done at my cluttered mess of a desk, tucked into my "office nook" in my bedroom.
I can't wait to use my laptop charger to charge my phone, or my iPhone charger to charge my Nintendo Switch.
Then, nails dug deeply into the flesh of my back and dragged down my body from my shoulders to my waist.
I'm happy I had the opportunity to get past my insecurities and to better my life, my health and my mindset.
I am blessed to have shared all of my experiences with my wife and my three kids, my family and friends.
I take my time taking off my makeup and washing my face before cuddling up to my sleeping boyfriend in bed.
You don't have the right to go through my house to open my doors, my closets, my pantries, none of that.
So here my ass is in my hotel room all by my lonesome learning how to deliver my own baby pic.twitter.
"I have my path now, and my journey to focus on my music, and that's all a part of my identity."
My nighttime routine basically consists of me washing my face, brushing my teeth, and putting lotion and socks on my feet.
But I had people in my life – my mother, my father, my grandmother – who sacrificed a lot to make me successful.
My heart swells for my communities, my friends, my family; I want that love imbued in any recording committed to permanence.
That's my time when I really crank through my work emails, and I do writing for my books or my blog.
"Not only was my body improving, but my mind, my spirit and my emotions were getting better as well," he added.
And I was unsure of my purpose -- my reason for being or my Heartsong -- beyond being a parent to my children.
My heel caught on my pannier, my hands tightened inadvertently on the brakes, and I pitched up and over my handlebars.
"I did give my middle daughter my middle name, and I named my oldest after my mother and sister," Heigl says.
"My biggest concern was, 'Oh my goodness, I need to tell my mother and father and my family,&apos" she says.
"I have left my home, my family and my job, and I am raising my voice," he wrote in September 2017.
My blood type changed to my donor's, with the DNA in my blood becoming different from the DNA in my cells.
The disease shortened my right leg, partially atrophied my calf muscle, limited my ankle's flexibility and curled my foot perceptibly inward.
His hands hadn't stopped moving: up my legs, over my hips, his palms tracing the curve of my waist, my ribs.
"My mother, Eve, is my biggest inspiration, my most encouraging champion, and my greatest sounding board," he writes on his blog.
It features live tracking of my routes, gives me notifications about my workout, and tracks my heart rate on my wrist.
"I regret the harm that my actions have caused my family, my staff and my constituents," he said at the time.
My greatest pleasure in life is seeing my kids and my grandkids grow old, living purposely and giving away my money.
The German Buddhist nun had checked me into the monastery and taken my passport, my phone, my wallet, and my iPad.
The handcuffs felt heavy as they locked onto my wrists, correcting my posture and pulling my hands back toward my heels.
That was lonely, but it shapes my frustrations with my own party, my willingness to be independent of my own party.
I take my lunch outside to meet my friend, Z., from my lab and run into one of my prospective supervisors.
"Even when I go to the dining room, I take my hairbrush, my lipstick, my mirror and my wallet," she said.
"I have left my home, my family and my job, and I am raising my voice," Khashoggi wrote in September 2017.
I cannot detach my Blackness, my femininity, my queerness, or my mental health from an analysis on what happened in Orlando.
But all of a sudden my personal life completely deteriorated because I live through my children, my grandchildren and my husband.
"Lady, you seem talented," she said, as she reviewed my paperwork attesting to my salary, my education and my marriage license.
I grew up with my grandmother living in my home, and my parents were a huge part of my children's lives.
My refinance funds have been deposited in my account so I call my personal loan provider to pay off my loan.
I make my coffee and lug my work bag, my gym bag, my lunchbox, and the dry cleaning out the door.
But this is still my default, when I look at my skin, when I think about my organs, my blood. Terror.
That is what I try to do with my family, with my teammates, with people in my community, with my friends.
I appreciate your reporter's intent, but my participation ensured that the article centered on me — my narrative, my experiences, my successes.
My hands were down to my side because the dress was pulled down towards my elbows and my breasts were out.
My dad died very young of diabetes at 39, my grandmother also died, my mother has it, my brother has it.
I often have discussions with myself—tilting my head, raising my eyebrows, pursing my lips—and not only about my work.
"Like most sex workers I take care of my kids — my partner my parents — my disabled sibling," said Stallone via text.
I am ashamed of the pain I have caused my daughter, my family, my friends, my colleagues and the educational community.
And so I'm spending time with my family, specifically with my children and my son is 14, my daughter is 15.
Acknowledging that does not negate my innate talents, my hard work, my worth or my own marginalization as a queer person.
Not only for my daughters, my wife, my sisters and all my female friends, but for our society as a whole.
I am putting all my faith in my attorney and the justice system to prove my innocence and save my reputation.
I snuggle in bed with my pets, but my cat wouldn't stop kneading my hair and my dog insists on lying right on my bladder, so I kick them out.
"My brother, the majority of my family, my uncles, my grandfather… almost all my family has been in the military," said Mr. Tyson in Matamoros's Olympic Park earlier this year.
Then, now, today, I'm at a stage in my life where I'm going from what I consider my second phase in my life to my third phase in my life.
My legs weren't as fertile but my underarms required constant attention, as did my toes, and to my utter horror, my pubic hair took on a life of its own.
I log into my bank account and subtract my savings ($196 per week) from my take-home and then transfer 20% of that into my boyfriend and my joint account.
My bookcase in my bedroom in my childhood home is bursting full of books that have shaped my education and, come to think of it, my entire life to date.
After probing deeper, asking my about my childhood and my teenage years, my history of extreme substance abuse and my irregular sleeping patterns, she recommended an appointment with a psychiatrist.
Then, I put my feet sole to sole and lifted my hips up into the air, creating a straight line from my shoulders down to my knees, using my butt.
All my family is there: My father, Bernie; my uncles Artie and Hymie and Hymie's wife, Shirley; my grandmother Gussie and my grandfather, Jake Wadler, for whom I am named.
During such an episode, my whole body tenses, my breath catches in my chest, and a deep sense of unease reverberates through my entire body as I cover my ears.
I fully spray it in my armpits, and on my hands, but also on my face and I spray it on my table tray that folds down and my armrest.
I stared at my reflection for a long time, imprinting it on my memory, and then, slowly, let the muscles of my face relax, eased my shoulders, lifted my head.
My current set of tape-in hair extensions — the ones I curled on my wedding day, the ones that hung down my back on my honeymoon — will be my last.
Music took my ears, took my hands, my voice and my soul, and it led me to all of you and to my Little Monsters who I love so much.
It was at this point I realized I was not wearing my watch; my expensive Breitling watch; my expensive Breitling watch my dad had bought me for my 21st birthday.
So I have chosen my biographer, and she is a young woman writer of talent who understands my horror of my own biography, my love of the novel as a novel, my commitment to my own privacy and my determination that my family and friends who have never been recruited for publicity are not signed up to speak.
"I lost all my children, I lost my husband, I lost my mother in law, I lost my father in law, I lost my uncle, I lost my sister in law - she was my sister - and I lost my nephew, I'm ok, but this is really hard," Coleman told Fox 59 from her hospital bed in Branson. bit.
Pristine, now in the womb environment — where I've done my best to keep my body, mind and spirit clean — kicking and tumbling, trying to find space, my little one is protected by my flesh, my actions, even my thoughts.
It is my neighbors, my children, and my family that it will affect.
With his encouragement, I sold my boxing gloves, my keyboard and my bicycle.
I love and support my mom and my brothers with my whole heart.
I have the flexibility to make my position and my team my own.
"It knocked all my stuff over, my ornaments, my shampoo bottles," Stowe said.
My grandmother helps me blow out my birthday candle on my first birthday.
But my grandmother helped me a lot, and my sister and my cousin.
My brother and my cousin Tone Bling, we were just in my apartment.
Staring at my reflection, it hit me: my body was my only achievement.
"This is my life: my kids, my family and the band," says Mason.
He was my best friend, he was my pal, he was my buddy.
"With my mommy makeover, my core of my stomach was separated," Brandi explained.
All I think about is my son, my family and my future family.
My first period gushed into my life the day before my 11th birthday.
So clouded and unsure about myself, my life, my privacy, my mental health.
"Oh my God, my husband shot my kids," the mother frantically told authorities.
But my consistency is better, my momentum is better, my wins are quicker.
"NYC is my home, it's my backyard… these are my neighbors," she says.
I'm spending my time, my kids, working and then with my closest friends.
He has my support, not my blind support, but my reasoned, careful support.
That was probably the highlight of my life — not my just my career.
For my mother, our family — my dad, my brother and me — was life.
My hips are wide, my ass is broad, and my calves are thick.
Though my father laughed at my improvised lectures, my mother let me talk.
In my family, my dad had lots of money and my mom didn't.
I was disconnected from everyone in my life, my family, my lifelong friends.
I have my house, my family is healthy, I'm fine with my wife.
"My design is a product of my environment and my experiences," Ong said.
Asked me if I was happy with my house, my driveway, my neighborhood.
My sister, my father, and my mum died within a three-year period.
My backpack has my production laptop, and adapters, my headphones, all that stuff.
All my books are on my iPad, courtesy of my library's ebook app!
I'm feeling bold and delete my texts with my ex on my phone.
Later, my partner texted me saying he admires my passion for my career.
I fill up my water bottle and eat my breakfast at my desk.
My love for Africa, my interest in fashion and my skills in technology.
Passed my Real estate class and my got my Personal finance class diploma.
I listen to My Favorite Murder on my drive to my parents' house.
My fingertips circled my clit, and a shaky breath stuttered across my lips.
My share is $27753,236 (my parents pay) and my roommate's share is $233.04,27.
Shout out to my manager Roger, and my mom who's my date tonight.
I, my friends, my family and my neighbors cannot afford a Trump presidency.
He's more than my spouse, he's more than my partner — he's my husband.
I eat my lunch at my desk before my next round of meetings.
Now all I had my sword, my trusty healing gourd, and my patience.
My afternoon bus driver knows my name and my stop, which is nice.

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