When I attended my first friend’s first kid’s first birthday party, I was secretly pregnant. I had just decided to go through with the not-quite-planned pregnancy, and let me tell you: That birthday party very nearly changed my mind. It was like a slow death by rainbow-colored materialism. Over the course of an hour’s worth of unwrapping, I watched the adorable 1-year-old become buried in more toys, books, clothes, and gadgets than anyone could possibly need — or use — in a lifetime. I thought, There has to be another way.

I asked my few parent friends about just how necessary the influx of manufactured crap really is when you’re raising a child, and precisely half of them assured me there is another — minimalist, inexpensive, largely plastic-free — way. The other half? They continued to preach the gospel of baby tubs, baby bags, baby-wipe warmers (!), 11 different swinging-chair options, and supposedly intellectually stimulating multicolored play mats.

I don’t mean to criticize “manufactured crap” in a sort of crunchy “I only want my child to play with organic daffodils” kind of way (my child plays with the subway pole; it's fine). I just don’t want that much stuff — organic or otherwise — surrounding me and my kid and filling our house. Because, honestly, stuff gives me anxiety.

Whenever my siblings and I try to talk our mom into selling her giant house filled with objects that have lost their (or never had any) use, she says she must stay there, alone, “because of the memories.” Instead of traveling or dating (my father died 12 years ago) or taking up macrame or whatever 60-something ladies do, she’s working hard to maintain 16 rooms and three acres she can barely use. I never want to feel that sense of obligation to a non-human entity. Hence, my carry-on-only travels and the obsessive frequency with which I Kondo the shit out of my closet.

But that’s me, and my own family baggage. Unsurprisingly, the list of what you “need” to buy or own in life — as a parent and as a person — is different for everyone. And while it’s true that I’ve never considered myself a person who needs a lot of stuff, having a baby is an inarguably life-altering business; perhaps it would change this part of me. (Spoiler: It hasn't.)

My son is one and a half now, and other than disposables like diapers, I've only spent money on two items for him: baby carriers and socks. This is partly out of necessity. Nobody gives you hand-me-down socks, because by the time a baby has outgrown hers she has also lost them. And partly because, in my book, you can never have too many of either. Although we did get a secondhand Mei Tai baby carrier, we also shelled out for a structured one and a woven wrap that holds up to 35 pounds (a.k.a. a 4-year-old). These carriers have been instrumental in bringing kiddo around the world as well as on various modes of public transportation. And then there were the socks. Other than that, pretty much everything my son has ever owned was secondhand, broken-in, and free.

Pretty much everything my son has ever owned was secondhand, broken-in, and free.

I started telling people I was pregnant at about six weeks along, which, I know, is abnormal etiquette to begin with, but so is telling everyone you run into that you’re happy to intercept their baby garbage before it hits Goodwill / the Bermuda Triangle / the actual trash. Because, of course, even the most minimalist baby does need some things — a car seat, for example (New York City hospitals won't let you leave without one, and mine quickly shot down my proposal to take the subway home with a newborn and stitches in my vagina). After I put the word out, I soon got a used car seat — and the used stroller it fit into, and a used crib, and a used breastfeeding pillow, a used high chair, used bottles, hand-me-down baby clothes of all sizes, and yes, even a used breast pump — from kind co-workers, neighbors, friends, family, and my dentist. My son has never worn new clothes, but I promise you he hasn’t noticed.

Clothes, car seat, crib, carrier: I’ll concede those were pretty key. But there are a few supposed “necessities” — according to many baby sites and shower registries — that I’ve done just fine without: a diaper bag, a bottle warmer, a bottle brush, a bottle drying rack, burp cloths, baby bowls, bibs (IMO there’s no point trying to contain the mess), a baby food maker, a hooded bath towel, a sleep sack, baby washcloths, a “play mat,” a “splat mat,” an “activity center,” a “play gym,” a “Rock ‘n’ Play,” “a swinging seat.” I put all those last ones in quotes because I’m honestly not sure what they are or whether they’re all secretly the same thing?

My son has a few secondhand toys, but he prefers empty cardboard boxes and tupperware containers. And although I did not have a baby shower (my second-least-favorite kind of party, after bridal showers), my book club did sweetly contribute some baby books at one of our gatherings — plus I was able to pilfer quite a few ancient kid-lit tomes from the aforementioned treasure trove of 30-year-old garbage at my mom’s house. My kid isn’t living a deprived, bedtime-story-free life or anything. But all his toys fit in one little basket, and when my family travels — which we do fairly often — we do it with one backpack for the three of us.

I know I’ve been very lucky. I have an amazing support network (and let’s be real, an amazing dentist) that supplied me with all the hand-me-downs I truly needed, and none of the junk I didn’t. But don’t think you have to know a lot of people in order to get a lot of free stuff. There’s Craigslist, Freecycle, Huggies Rewards...even some fancier brands will send you free diaper samples (although in my experience they aren't the most efficient, probably because they’re made from recycled organic tomatoes or something). And for formula-fed babies, Enfamil offers an almost shocking amount of sample packets.

So I’ve been lucky, but also resourceful, but mostly just decidedly un-picky about what my kid wears, uses, and consumes. Which is something akin to tough love in the time of Insta-moms and their chic, hyper-curated kids’ wardrobes and Paleo snacks. I mean, my son plays with shoeboxes, and sometimes he wears "girls’" clothes. It just happens; they’re free. I’m not saying I force him into tutus, but he rocks a fair amount of pink, and his favorite sweatpants are frilly. Oh well.

All that said, the most fun part of hand-me-down life isn’t saving money, saving space, bucking gender norms, or watching my kid impressively create his own complex toys out of twigs. Although that’s pretty fun.

The best part is paying it forward — watching my friend’s kid learn to crawl while wearing my son’s old sweater, which is actually my nephew’s old sweater, which actually used to belong to the kids my sister used to nanny, and maybe even had a life before that, who knows? It’s getting to bring my stressed-out pregnant neighbor a bag full of baby goodies without clicking through a godawful online registry or spending $35 on a rubber giraffe. It’s getting to watch coworkers of all shapes and sizes magically wear the same maternity dress one after another like we’re some Sisterhood Of The Traveling Preggos. And I kid you not: My breast pump is currently on its third owner. Which is great, because those things are expensive.

Welcome to Mothership: Parenting stories you actually want to read, whether you're thinking about kids or not, from egg-freezing to taking home baby and beyond. Because motherhood is a big if — not when — and it's time we talked about it that way.

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Something happens when you get married. It isn’t just a change between you and your partner, or even a change within yourself, but a total transformation in how others see you. People start treating you like an adult when, the day before your wedding, even if you’ve lived in domestic bliss for years, you were still a child to them. Very Serious Topics start coming up with greater frequency. “Are you thinking of settling down in the area?” “Any plans to buy a house?” My personal favorite: “So, who wears the pants?”

This one’s often meant as a joke, of course, but I still have a serious answer: “Well, we’re both usually wearing pants.” I mean it literally, and yet it’s still funny — or at least, more fun than hearing a fiery tirade about my egalitarian relationship with my husband and the feminist politics that we have shared from the beginning of our relationship.

But one remark dwarfs all the others in both frequency and impact. Very often, when a stranger or acquaintance finds out that I’m married, they ask the question that I most dread: “So, when are you two going to have kids?” A question bound up in assumptions.

Never, I think. But, as with the pants question, I usually tone it down for the sake of amiable conversation.

People my age are increasingly putting off or deciding against having children. For some, that's motivated by economic precariousness and uncertainty about the future. Others might cite how difficult it is to raise a child in this day and age, with threats all around — both real and imagined. Maybe it’s global climate change, and the fear that your kids will be left living in a post-apocalyptic hellscape. There's a tired and incorrect stereotype that feminists simply hate children and don’t want families. I, as a feminist who does not want a family, can reconcile this in my own mind. But generally speaking, my decision to not have children is not political. It is deeply personal.

To be brutally honest, I don’t like kids. I don’t hate them, I just feel uncomfortable around them. I don’t know how to talk to them. They kind of annoy me. Parents love to tell you, “Oh, it’s different when they’re yours!” When they’re yours, you’ll love them, they say. All of that frustration and awkwardness will disappear, and you will suddenly cherish your child through the magic of DNA transmission, hormones, sharing blood. And I’m sure that is true for some people. But there is a dark reality that rarely gets spoken aloud. For some people, it’s not different when they’re yours.

There are parents who do not love their children, and I know this truth the same way I know that in Florida in the summer, it rains every day at 3 p.m. sharp and stops abruptly at 3:30. I have lived it.

And no matter how loving and kind, supportive and attentive a parent is, I believe — no, I know — that children can sense when they are resented. When they are not wanted.

As a child, I was a daddy’s girl. He could do no wrong. When the police came to our house in the middle of the night to arrest him for domestic battery, it was surely not his fault. When he got drunk and slept until 1 p.m., leaving me alone and hungry all morning, he was just tired. I understood. It wasn’t until I was about 11 that he finally started to fall from grace in my eyes.

My parents had been divorced for nearly a decade by this point, and for a year my father lived three hours away from me. It was painful for me, because visits were relatively infrequent — once every two or three weeks. I pleaded with him to find work closer to me, but he always had an excuse. Nonetheless, as the daddy’s girl, I understood. This was grown-up stuff. It was just impossible.

Then he met a woman and, within a few months, they got married and he moved in with her, about 20 minutes from where I lived with my mother. She was a lovely woman, and I got along with her and her two children very well. But I was resentful. Had I not been worth moving for? Why was this relative stranger more of a reason to pack up his life and move than I was? And why, now that he lived so close, did he not see me more often? Where were the Wednesday night dinners or Sunday afternoon park visits that I had dreamed of? And like that, the spark was lit. My naïveté was cracking.

The crack deepened one hot and muggy Florida Saturday when he just plain forgot me. I was 12, and I will never forget that I had chosen his visit over a birthday party that would include a limo ride to the movies. (A limo ride!) He was supposed to pick me up in the morning, and being the responsible 12-year-old that I was I woke early, packed up the little pink suitcase I always brought with me to his house, and, in my excitement, locked up the house to stand by the road a bit early. He would certainly be glad that I was all ready to go — very grown-up. I waited. And waited. By now the sun was higher in the sky, it was getting hotter. I was thirsty. I don’t know exactly how long I waited outside, but it seemed like an eternity at the time. I called him: No answer. Night fell. I had cried most of the day. I waited for his call. It didn’t come.

That night I called again, and he answered, groggy and slurring. He had crashed his car the night before and spent all day working on it. He was sorry. He didn’t mean to. Did I forgive him? I didn’t answer.

Months later, we had a fight. It was Father’s Day, and when I forgot to help carry some groceries inside he called me the laziest little girl in the world. I absolutely snapped. I told him he could not speak to me that way. I had never screamed at him before, but I was now. I was nearing 13 and still harboring anger about the time he forgot me, and remembering other times and events that now struck me as neglect, or at least indifference. He, in turn, said I was behaving like a child, that I was ungrateful, and some other very nasty things. Things that made me feel unloved, unwanted, burdensome. Despite my rage, I also felt that I had fallen short of being a good daughter. I ended my weekend visit by calling my mother to come pick me up. He didn’t even walk with me to the front of the apartment complex. He stood in the doorway and shouted at me to “Get your ass back here right now!” as I walked away in the blistering Florida heat, pink suitcase in tow.

For weeks, I asked my mother if he had called for me. I just knew that eventually he would pick up the phone to apologize, to admit that he had been wrong. But the call never came. It broke my mother’s and stepfather's hearts. I cried myself to sleep at night. I considered calling him, but resolved that I was not at fault. I was not to blame. I would not concede. I inherited my strong will (read: stubbornness) from both sides of my parentage, and it has almost always served me well.

We did not speak for another 12 years, when I reconnected with him through Facebook. It was mostly out of curiosity. What was he like now? Had he changed? Was he happy? Did he ever miss me? But I found out quickly that he had not changed much. He blamed me for our estrangement. He blamed his 12-year-old daughter for taking his insults personally, for not being the first to try to rectify the split. But I have always secretly held a fear in my heart — that it wasn’t his stubbornness or his temper or even his alcoholism that caused him to abandon me. It was that he felt like a burden had been lifted. Maybe he was just glad to see me go.

But being worthy of love and knowing how to do it is still not enough of a reason to have a child of my own.

Then, two years later, he messaged me out of the blue to chastise me for unfriending him on Facebook. (What strange times we are living in.) I replied that I unfriended him because it was painful to be reminded of him. It turned into a heated argument, yet another litigation over who was to blame and who should have called whom. He called me crazy, “just like your grandmother!” who, incidentally, suffered from bipolar disorder, as I do. He called me an immature child, and many all-caps fuck-yous were exchanged. There was no doubt then, as I deleted the message thread so hate-filled it made me sick, that he did not love me; that quite possibly, he never had. And suddenly I was 12 again. Crying. Looking for a father that did not exist.

In fact, I had been looking in the wrong place. My stepfather has loved me more fully than I could have hoped. Blood and DNA do not ensure loving bonds between child and parent. Parenting is a connection based on unconditional love, respect, and care. This is what my true father has shown me, and I am eternally grateful to him. He is a daily reminder that I am worthy of a father’s love. Thanks to the love from both him and my mother, and now my husband, I know how to love.

But being worthy of love and knowing how to do it is still not enough of a reason to have a child of my own. I know without a doubt that I would never abuse a child. I would never abandon one, as I was abandoned. I do not have that kind of selfishness and hatefulness and depravity in me. But I know very well that I might resent them. And no matter how loving and kind, supportive and attentive a parent is, I believe — no, I know — that children can sense when they are resented. When they are not wanted.

I have often heard people claim that not having children is selfish — that it’s a shirking of responsibility, based on petty desires to be comfortable and travel and sleep late on weekends. But mine is a choice between two possible outcomes: That I may have children and regret it, or that I may not have children and regret it. The latter would certainly be sad, a decision that I could never take back. But the first impacts another human being for the rest of their life, and the second impacts only me. If making the second choice is selfish, then I must be using a different definition of the term.

I think for most people, asking a person about their plans to have children seems like a pretty innocuous question. And when they push the subject — tell you that you’ll change your mind, that it’s different when they’re yours, that having children will give your life meaning — I wonder if they can imagine all of the different reasons someone might have when they make the very difficult decision to forgo being a parent. I wonder if they have any sense of how hurtful it is to hear that, “It’s different when they’re yours.” Because sometimes, it isn’t.

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You don't hear the words, "I can't wait for fall" too often, but they definitely apply here.

Target has announced that it's launching 12 new brands in the next couple of years, which is exciting enough. But the one we're most jazzed about is Project 62, a luxe-looking collection that's sleek and modern with a rustic edge. On offer are bar carts, throw pillows, servingware, and end tables, outfitted in chic patterns and metallic finishes.

"We knew we'd need to refresh our offerings — and define new ones — so our guests continue to love what they're discovering at Target and want to keep coming back, again and again," Mark Tritton, Target's executive vice president and chief merchandising officer, said in a statement. Tritton described Project 62 as a "modern home brand thoughtfully designed for everyday life."

You'll can find Project 62 in stores and at Target.com on September 19, 2017. See photos from the collection, ahead.

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Nobody really eats limes. We use their juice in cocktails and dishes and even employ their zest in certain recipes. But, it’s not like you would sit down, peel a lime, and begin to eat it as a refreshing snack like you might with an orange, clementine, or tangerine. In fact, if you think about it, have you ever even seen a lime without its peel? The answer is probably no. That’s exactly why the Twittersphere is freaking out over photos of peeled limes.

Over the holiday weekend, a Twitter user called @Exploditorium shared two photos of peeled limes and wrote, “It's the middle of the night, but I cannot stop thinking about peeled limes and how evil and cursed the entire concept of peeling a lime is.” The first photo features a pile of limes, and the lime in the very front of the photo is completely peeled. The second photo shows a peeled lime split into sections and laid out on a plate as if someone were getting ready to enjoy it as a midday snack. Looking at the pictures, it’s clear that @Exploditorium is correct: peeled limes are in fact pure evil.

It's the middle of the night but I cannot stop thinking about peeled limes and how evil and cursed the entire concept of peeling a lime is pic.twitter.com/W2OOV8kGZ4

— Khoi @ I HAVE ARMS (@Exploditorium) June 30, 2017

While we all agree that something about these photos of peeled limes is eerie, it’s still pretty surprising that the tweet has been retweeted 23,465 times and liked 60,248 times. People just can’t believe how weird limes look when they’re peeled — or perhaps the truly weird thing is that they have never seen a peeled lime before.

While many Twitter users weighed in with comments about this rare sight, tons of others simply tagged their friends to share the unusual images. Despite how the original tweeter feels, a few others seemed to think peeling limes is a good idea. We're not sure we're with them.

I know this will sound ridiculous, but this is the first time in my life I have ever seem a peeled lime!!! Do a lemon! 🍋💕

— Tracey Emma (@TraceyEmma2) June 30, 2017

pic.twitter.com/9HRh7DmQvo

— Antony (@antonygwherbert) July 1, 2017

the whole idea makes me uncomfortable

— 🌸CYD🌸 (@bbygurll69) July 2, 2017

puts this on my to do list

— TeXas🇲🇽🏳️‍🌈 (@PhilipsZelda) June 30, 2017

I need to try it

— Manon 🌈🌷 (@after__laughter) July 1, 2017

This makes me WANT to peel a lime....

— Moo Goo (@Crys_the_Hybrid) July 1, 2017

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If it's been a while since you've left NYC, hiking may seem like a totally inaccessible activity (or, at least, a novel one). But, between the five boroughs, you actually have plenty of trails to choose from. And yes, there are many more reasons to get back to nature than just doing it for the 'Gram (not that that isn't a solid excuse to hit the trails).

The practice of nature therapy, or "ecotherapy," is an emerging form of mental healthcare — and the evidence of its benefits is far from anecdotal. Spending time outside has been linked to a lower risk of depression, as well as an increase in attention spans and problem-solving skills. A study published last year even suggested that simply walking in nature could boost people's moods. And, in terms of hiking's physical benefits, a brisk walk outside is great for your heart health, too.

City living can be stressful or draining for even the most seasoned urbanite, so why not give nature therapy a try? Whether you're an experienced hiker or don't even own a pair of boots, the perfect outdoor excursion is just a subway or bus ride away. Ahead, we've rounded up some of our favorite trails in the city.

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If your skin is so sensitive that you have to move out of the way when your deskmate starts spritzing her essential oil face mist, and a gentle sleeping mask leaves you red, itchy, and bumpy by morning, we understand how frustrating it is to go moisturizer shopping. Without guidance, an aisle full of creams can look like a straight shot to acne and irritation.

That's why we called in the pros: Dermatologists Dendy Engelman and Elizabeth Tanzi know a thing or two about what to do — and what not to do — when it comes to skin sensitivity and allergens. It's important to start with clean skin to prevent transference of bacteria or other irritants before patting on light moisturizers geared toward sensitive skin, says Dr. Engelman.

For Dr. Tanzi, it's all about picking your battles. She suggests avoiding chemical sunscreens, physical scrubs, fragrance, parabens, sulfates, dyes, and anything "hot and steamy" (which is code for saunas, hot water, or steam rooms). All of these could be abrasive to the skin barrier and end up causing inflammation.

Ahead, check out their picks for sensitive skin moisturizers that won't break you out, cause rashes, or make your skin crawl (you know the feeling). If you're still experiencing discomfort, talk to your derm about getting a prescription for a clinical treatment.

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First came the pussy hat. Then, “nevertheless she persisted” became a rallying cry and popular tattoo. Lipstick benefiting Planned Parenthood soon followed. But one of the most enduring, and most literary, trends in the fight to protect women's reproductive rights comes from The Handmaid’s Tale.

In the novel and Hulu's TV adaptation, women forced to bear children for others, called handmaids, wear a similar ensemble. The long red cloaks mask their bodies, and their large bonnets cover their faces. Now, women are bringing these outfits in front of lawmakers to remind them how eerily close our country's laws seem to the dystopian world of The Handmaid's Tale. From Jefferson City, Missouri to outside the U.S. Capitol, women are donning red cloaks and white bonnets to stand up for women’s reproductive health.

We rounded up some of the best moments when handmaids took action in real life. Offred would be proud.

This story was originally published on June 27, 2017.

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Update: We've got good news: The busty bralette that sold out in less than 24 hours when it launched a few months back will be restocked on July 16 — and, it'll be offered in an all-new print in addition to the original black and light pink colors.

And as if that wasn't news enough, Lively also announced its first-ever strapless bra, available in both smooth and lace variations. The sizes span 32A-38DD, and it costs just $35 — so consider the rest of your off-the-shoulder top days officially saved.

This post was originally published on March 28, 2017.

Finding a bralette that's supportive enough for larger chests is a next-to-impossible feat, though we've definitely scoured around for some. Lively, which was launched in April 2016 by a Victoria's Secret alum and heralded the arrival of “leisureé” (a lingerie-swim-activerwear mash-up), is trying to make the quest for larger bralettes a little bit easier with its latest launch. Dubbed the "Busty Bralette," the style comes in sizes D, DD, and DDD. The decision to expand sizing (and create a more supportive iteration of) its popular bralettes came about directly from consumer feedback, as a matter of fact.

“Inclusivity has always been one of our brand’s most important pillars, so extending sizing has always been a goal; we knew over a year ago that we wanted to offer extended sizes, especially in bralettes," Michelle Cordeiro Grant, Lively's founder and CEO, told Refinery29. (So, basically that means Lively started plotting out bralettes for more endowed customers before the brand even launched.) "It was something so rare in the category, and we definitely saw it as a void in the market." After sussing out the label's most popular bralette once the brand had launched, a couple rounds of prototypes and fit-testing transpired since last summer, Grant explained.

The style was modeled after the indie lingerie brand's bestselling style, the Mesh Trim Bralette, with design tweaks made accordingly: there's a wider stronger elastic band under the cups, stronger straps, and a breathable, soft sling inside for support. "We like to say these elements give a dose of magic in all the right places," Grant said of the updated detailing. To figure out your sizing in the new bralette, check out the brand's updated Fit Guide.)

The new style, available in sizes 34D to 38DDD, is available now in black and soft pink, and retails for $35, the same price point as all of Lively's bras. Snag one for yourself here.

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Annette Bening deserves the world — she is a queen of the highest degree — but her most recent accolade will do: She has been named the president of the Venice Film Festival jury, according to Deadline. She is the first woman to take the role in 11 years. (The last lady at the helm of the jury was Catherine Deneuve in 2006.)

"It was time to break with a long list of male presidents and invite a brilliant talented and inspiring woman to chair our International competition jury," festival director Alberto Barbera said in a statement. From our perspective, the tradition could have been broken a while ago (like, say, 2007), but Bening is a good salve for our 11-year wounds.

Bening responded that she is "honored to be asked to serve as the President of the jury for this year’s Venice Film Festival." She continued, "I look forward to seeing the movies and working with my fellow jury members to celebrate the best of this year’s cinema from all over the world."

Now that the president's been announced, it's likely that the festival will reveal its 2017 lineup fairly soon. Last year, the fest published their lineup in late July. Among the 2016 titles were Tom Ford's Nocturnal Animals, Arrival, and the awards season darling La La Land. That is to say, the Venice Film Festival is a bit of an awards predictor, as these fests tend to be.

But back to Annette Bening: She's awesome. She appears in the most iconic films from the last two decades — American Beauty, anyone? — and she has an entire Wikipedia page devoted to her many awards and nominations. It was about time she was president of the Venice Film Festival jury, no?

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The first online dating profile I ever set up was on OkCupid when I was 21. I remember taking a lot of time on it — making sure to pick the exact words to describe exactly what I was looking for. I wanted a partner who was compassionate, intelligent, had a close relationship with his family, who liked to cuddle, and who wouldn’t roll his eyes when I wanted to veg on the couch for a 5-hour-long Real Housewives of New York marathon. I had conjured up an image of the perfect partner in my brain, and I wanted to get as close to it as possible.

As many people know, high expectations tend to beget huge disappointments. So after a few months, I readjusted my “type.” When prince charming still wasn’t showing up, I tried to be a little more flexible and free with my requirements. I was lucky to learn that lesson early on in my dating life — that the perfect partner doesn’t exist, and you shouldn’t expect the people you’re dating to fit neatly into a box of “must haves.” But I took that idea a little too far, and completely abandoned my list completely, dating anyone and everyone who swiped right on me.

I had fun for a while, and because I wasn’t looking for an exact “type,” I opened myself up to a lot of unique, exciting dudes. I went out with a whiskey distiller, a few investment bankers, a bunch of comedians, a carpenter who hung all of the shelves in my apartment, a tugboat captain (seriously), and spent an entire summer dating Australian men exclusively. But I also was wasting my time with a lot of people who weren’t looking for what I was trying to find: a real connection that could grow. So about a year ago, I decided that I would only pursue dates with men who were looking for a relationship.

It was surprisingly easy to discern who wanted a relationship and who didn’t. The men who weren’t interested in something more serious would promptly stop responding after I answered their what are you looking for? inquiry honestly. So I was left with guys who were genuinely interested in finding a partner and settling down — right? Well, not exactly. Because, as I’ve written before, saying you want a relationship and actually being in a relationship are actually two completely different things. I’d meet men who probably wanted a relationship, but who didn’t want one with me. On bad days, I’d meet men who claimed they wanted a relationship, would get me in all nice and cozy, only to ghost a few days later, leaving me with a giant question mark.

Another thing I kept running into? Men who were perfectly nice — the type of men who you’d want to bring home to mom — but who I 100% did not want to have sex with. The idea of sleeping with these men made my skin crawl, even though they were super sweet. It was around this time that I created The Naked Test, a test in which I had to decide by date three whether or not I wanted to ever be naked with the guy. It was a way for me to avoid feeling guilty over not dating “nice guys.” But that still didn’t help my dating fatigue — and I couldn’t figure out why. This led me to the therapist’s chair, and then to eventually delete my dating apps.

I was dating guys who seemed like Pinterest versions of partners, without really caring about what made them tick.

Of course, I’ve made my triumphant return to the dating scene and have had many lovely experiences since — including a two-month long relationship with a guy which ended in a total clusterfuck. Since him, I’ve felt a little uneasy, since that breakup coincided with the death of my grandmother and the weddings/engagements of three of my cousins. (Life has a way of shitting on you all at once, doesn’t it?) But I’ve continued to date, lest I become the last female cousin in my family to get married — a fate all of my now-married-or-engaged cousins tell me is “no big deal,” but they’re not eager to swap places with me.

About three weeks ago, I realized that the past four dates I’d gone on had failed The Naked Test. They were nice, sure. But I didn’t want to get down and do the nasty with them. And it wasn’t as if grief had struck down my sex drive — it was humming along quite nicely. It was just the men in question that turned me off. It was then that I realized why I found these men so boring — we had nothing in common. They were men who I wouldn’t have given a second glance at two years ago. But all four of them had one thing in common: They looked like they were relationship material. They seemed like the types of guys who would easily fill the role of “boyfriend.”

In this vulnerable time of my life, I’d unconsciously reinstated my “type,” but this time, it only involved one requirement: Seems like he’d make a good boyfriend. I was dating guys who seemed like Pinterest versions of partners, without really caring about what made them tick. Instead of getting to know them as people first, I was basically interviewing them for the role of “boyfriend.” That’s what I was doing back when The Naked Test had to be instated, and that’s what I was doing again.

So where does one go from there? Well, for starters, I’ve recognized that the idea of being “relationship material” is incredibly subjective, and changes depending on the person. I’ve definitely pulled back from the apps a bit, only using them a few days a week instead of every day. But, most importantly, I’m recognizing the importance of getting to know a person as, well, a person before I start putting them in the relationship bin.

There are some lessons we learn early on in our dating journey — like the fact that a long list of requirements isn’t helpful. But there are some, like this one, that come a little late in the game. My recent dates have felt less like I’m auditioning men for a role in my life, and more like I’m just getting to know a new friend. And while no one has passed The Naked Test yet, I’m sure someone will soon — after I’ve learned how they feel about 5-hour-long Real Housewives of New York marathons.

After being raised on a steady diet of Disney movies, I expected to meet someone and fall passionately in love — but wound up collapsing under the pressures of modern dating. Luckily, I eventually realized that there's no "right" way to date, and that I need to find happiness within myself, no partner needed. It’s Not You is where I write to calm the voices in my head — and hear from all of you. Follow me on Twitter, on Instagram, or email me at maria.delrusso@refinery29.

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A Ghost Story is a movie about grief, intimacy, and the metaphysical presence of loved ones after they are gone. I think.

David Lowery's fascinating (and confusing) movie stars Casey Affleck as "C" and Rooney Mara as "M," which sounds strange, but their character names truly do not matter because A Ghost Story is a movie about nothing. (Or is it about everything?! *insert thinking-face emoji here*)

No, it is about C, a ghost in a huge sheet, following around his ex-partner, M, after he dies in a tragic car accident, and watching her deal with her loneliness in the house they once shared together. There are approximately 279 words in the whole movie, and a major plot point has C, in his full white comforter, watching M eat an entire pie. Like, the whole fucking thing.

Let me be very, very clear: it is foul to watch. The actress sits down, in a puddle of sadness, and starts jamming a metal fork into the glass pie bowl, and eats her little heart out — crust, crumbs, juices, and all. There are no spit buckets or sly tricks to make it look like M is eating this entire chocolate (?!) cream (??) pie. You may be thinking: what is the big deal? People can eat what they want, and actors eat on-screen all the time. But guys... she eats this pie... for nine.... minutes... straight. That is 540 seconds of non-stop chomping, chewing, swallowing, and nearly vomiting.

There is simply no way any human should eat that much pie in one sitting! The volume of the scene is also on full blast — you hear every sniffle (she is crying while she eats), every gulp, every slurp, every time the fork tip hits the pie container. As you're watching, you know what's going to happen. We've all been sad, or drunk, or stoned, or depressed and stressed, and tried to fill the voids in life with food. And you know what happens? You throw it all up. And so did she. So not only do we get to see M shovel an entire chocolate cream (and apparently gluten-free) pie into her mouth for an eternity, but then we get to watch and hear her vomit it all up while C watches in his XXL sheet from the other side of the room.

The director told USA Today that this scene is the one he is "proudest of" in his career. But sitting there in the theatre at 11 AM watching Rooney Mara shovel forkfuls of a mediocre-looking pity pastry made me want to hurl. The scene was apparently buzz-worthy when audiences first saw the experimental dark comedy (is it a comedy? Yes, because C is a DJ-musician and at one point Kesha shows up?) back in January at Sundance and I believe it.

It still haunts me to this day.

A Ghost Story hits theaters July 7.

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What's your idea of a powerful beauty look? Is it a cat-eye and a red lip or electric-blue eyeshadow paired with a bold brow? Do you think of a killer contour game or even no makeup at all? Our answer would be all of the above...and so much more. At Refinery29, we like to think of your beauty look as the next-gen version of a power suit. We're dubbing it a "power face." Now, this doesn't refer to a specific beauty look. Nor does it cater to a certain shade, skin type, or personality. It's universal. "It's unapologetic and says 'I'm here,'" says celebrity makeup artist Katie Jane Hughes — who very much believes that makeup can be used as a tool to hone in on your power.

While Hughes uses a variety of different colors and products on her clients, she does have her go-to essentials to create an impactful look on anyone. Here, we asked Hughes to lay it all out for us. From a palette to get that kick-ass red lip to a foundation that makes skin look and feel healthy, like this one from COVERGIRL, she shares how she creates beauty looks that make a statement, as well as tips to create your own.

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Is Tiffany Trump following in her sister's footsteps? Since becoming First Daughter, the 23-year-old has seemingly rebranded her heavily auto-tuned pop singer, Rich Kid of Instagram roots for a more polished, more Ivanka-like public persona. She's kept a low political profile, plans on attending Georgetown Law School in the fall, and faced tumultuous criticism with ease — allowing it to play to her advantage. And, she's taken up a new hobby: jewelry designing.

On Wednesday, a video of Trump modeling her homemade necklace was posted on Instagram by Blue & Cream, a Hamptons mainstay once described by The New York Times as a store that "sells expensive clothing to these young, mostly wealthy, mostly white people." Evidently, not much has changed.

The video, which has already racked up over 500 views, depicts Trump showing Blue & Cream owner Jeffrey Goldstein two different pieces: An iridescent boxing glove dangling from a single silver strand, and a chain carrying a jagged lightning bolt encrusted with purple diamonds.

@tiffanytrump stopped by to share some of her custom pieces strictly for #friendsandfamily but whats up @adwarren !!? We neeeeed pink #justdrew sweatpants!

A post shared by blueandcream (@blueandcream) on Jul 5, 2017 at 9:52am PDT

But, don't expect to pick up a custom TT piece anytime soon. "We are not selling the line in our store, but as a long time customer she was excited to show off the pieces to Jeff Goldstein, the store owner," Blue & Cream's head of online, Jonah Redel-Traub, told Refinery29. "Our Instagram tries to capture the culture of East Hampton and she's definitely a person of interest right now."

Tiffany Trump jewelry isn't currently available for purchase outside of Blue & Cream either; though the Instagram caption reads "custom pieces strictly for #friendsandfamily," we wouldn't be so quick to count out the potential of a future line. As a noted longtime admirer of her older sister, it's only natural that someone picks up the Trump legacy of selling luxury accessories. And while big sis Ivanka may have been forced to step down from her own fashion label due to ethics laws, but Tiffany isn't a federal employee. (Plus, despite a continued spate of boycotts, the recently reported sales increase for Ivanka's products shows the Trump name can still turn a profit).

Sure, it may be "just a hobby " for now, but with zero conflict of interest, we have a feeling Tiffany will soon look at her pieces and see dollar signs. Prepare to see this diamond-encrusted molehill turn into a million dollar mountain.

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We can't all say we have exact photo documentation of the moment we fell in love, but we aren't all Miley Cyrus. The 24-year-old posted a throwback photo to Instagram featuring a still from the The Last Song, which she starred in with current beau Liam Hemsworth back in 2010. The two first met on the set of the film, and the rest is (a rather long and complicated) history.

"Happy #InternationalKissingDay!" Cyrus captioned a snap of the two smooching in the water, an iconic shot from the film. "Our first smooch 8 years ago!" This was accompanied by the appropriate number of kissing emojis, which, it turns out, is many kissing emojis.

Happy #InternationalKissingDay! 💋💋💋 Our first smooch 8 years ago! ❤️❤️❤️

A post shared by Miley Cyrus (@mileycyrus) on Jul 6, 2017 at 9:22am PDT

For Miley and Liam, the past year has been pretty much one big throwback. The two have reunited after a tumultuous eight years of on-again, off-again dating, culminating in "Malibu," the latest hit from the pop star which reflects on their reunion.

"I needed to change so much," she told Billboard shortly before the song's release. "And changing with someone else not changing like that is too hard. Suddenly you’re like, 'I don’t recognize you anymore.' We had to refall for each other."

Plus, she just wanted to silence all the speculation, and this song was the perfect way to do just that.

"[People are] going to talk about me if I come out of a restaurant with Liam," she continued. "So why not put the power back in my relationship and say, 'This is how I feel'?"

And if it means more music and more cute throwbacks like this one, we're so glad Miley Cyrus is feeling it.

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This week, actress Christian Serratos got real with her fans.

The Walking Dead star gave birth to a baby girl in May and since then the new mom hasn’t shied away from sharing a breastfeeding photo or two. Sadly, a number of fans have criticized the 26-year-old star. Serratos, however, wasn’t having it.

On Wednesday, the actress posted a photo of herself seated in a makeup chair powdering with her left hand and holding up her kid in another. The infant is breastfeeding. “This is my body and my page. So I will post what I want, when I want," Serratos captioned the image. "Those who disapprove can suck my left tit.” She tagged the image with the hashtags “working mom” and “chill” and a heart-kiss emoji. Point proven, Christian.

This is my body and my page. So I will post what I want, when I want. Those who disapprove can suck my left tit. 😘 #workingmom #chill

A post shared by Christian Serratos (@kishserratos) on Jul 5, 2017 at 4:30pm PDT

So far, her post has received more than 213,000 likes and more than 8,000 comments. Clearly Serratos, who plays Rosita Espinosa on the hit AMC series, struck a chord.

“Good for YOU... love it, motherhood is a blessing, enjoy!” said user Nessstefanie.

“You go girl I think it's great that you don't back down some people are just damn dumb it's a beautiful and wonderful thing,” replied user mcnealdonna.

The message was more than likely triggered after Serratos posted a breastfeeding photo the day prior.

Thank you for our custom D.C.W necklaces that represent us and OUR DAUGHTER @jewelsbydurrani 😘

A post shared by Christian Serratos (@kishserratos) on Jul 4, 2017 at 10:26am PDT

On the upside, despite the onslaught of hateful comments, a number of fans have rallied behind Serratos to show some support. Recently, another Walking Dead star was the target of online vitriol and harassment. Josh McDermitt, who plays Eugene in the series, explained his decision to leave Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook back in May.

"Death threats, don’t send me death threats, because I will ― I’m gonna report all that shit to the cops," he said in the video, captured by a Walking Dead Twitter fan account. "I’m just sick of it. You can hate Eugene, I don’t care. I’ll argue that you’re wrong, but you can think whatever you want. But when you start saying you hope I die, I don’t know if you’re talking about Josh or Eugene. I gotta report that shit."

Yikes!

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Is there a makeup product more beloved than lipstick? Some people have their signature color that they swipe on day after day, while others keep a bevy of shades on heavy rotation. If you're part of the latter camp, you're likely constantly searching for the next "it" color you'll wear down to the nub. (And then scrape out its secret compartment, too.)

Well, a new year brings fresh new trends, and 2017's batch is looking extra special. From pink pigments to glossy textures, there'a a whole lot to love about these tubes. Ahead, find some of the prettiest lipstick trends we'll be wearing in 2017. You might want to start adding them to your holiday list ASAP.

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Lube is pretty much required for anal sex — unlike the vagina, the anus is not self-lubricating and can't get wet unless you help it out. Aside from skipping the necessary prep work, forgetting to use lube is one of the main reasons why anal can be unpleasant for some people.

Thicker lubes are best for anal sex, as anal walls are thinner than vaginal walls, and thus require a lube that can keep them nice and slippery to reduce the chances of cuts and tears inside the rectum. Abrasions increase your risk for contracting an STI, and nobody wants that. Overall, anal sex is considered particularly risky in terms of STI transmission, compared to vaginal or oral sex, so condom use is key (unless you're in a monogamous relationship, and you and your partner have both been tested). And because of that, it's important to make sure to use a lubricant that's latex-friendly. Coconut oil and basically anything in your kitchen, for example, can't be used with condoms.

Another thing to keep in mind is that the anus absorbs water quickly and can dry out easily when you're using a water-based lube, according to sex therapist Kyla Black. Therefore, silicone-based lubes are usually the safest bet. That said, if you're having anal sex with a silicone toy (like a strap-on or a dildo), or engaging in anal play with a silicone butt plug, go with a water-based lube and just make sure to use a lot. (Silicone breaks down silicone, and you don't want your toys breaking down inside your butt.)

Whether you're having anal sex with a penis or a toy, we want to make sure you're having a safe and enjoyable time. Thankfully, there are lubes for every type of butt fun. Read on for our favorite lubes for your bum.

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This story was originally published on March 23, 2017.

You've probably heard that "it goes down in the DM," but what is "it" and what exactly "goes down"? Trolling, sure, but also sometimes flirting. Look, you're probably going to use social media to research your online dating matches anyways, so if you like what you see, going straight for the DM just skips a step. But take caution, for this move isn't as simple as it seems: People are sensitive about their DMs, and sliding requires that your moves be smooth, so it demands a little more effort than just a double-tap or swipe right.

Ilana*, 24, who lives in New York City, met her boyfriend because he slid into her Instagram DMs. As the story goes, she listed her Instagram handle in her Bumble dating profile, and he found and followed her. "He slid into my DMs like three times, but I didn't see them," Ilana says. She doesn't remember exactly what the messages said, but she thinks it was some form of "Hey" with the hugging emoji. "So finally I answered being like, 'Sorry I never check these things!' and we started chatting." They've been together for the past 10.5 months.

This low-lift, friendly message worked for Ilana's partner, but you could just figure out something that you both have in common and lead with that, says Michelle Hope, a sexologist in New York City. "Use their interests and align it with yours," she says. People put photos online so other people see (and comment, and like) them. DMing a photo of them at the finish line of a running race and asking, "Hey, I was running that race too, what was your time?" makes sense and shows you already have something fun in common.

One perk of DM-sliding is that you can skip a formal greeting, because the person can just look at your profile and see who you are, says Samantha Burns, LMHC, a dating relationships expert. "Just jump right into a comment or question," she says. Your thoughts about a link they tweeted or event they put on their Instagram story will make more of an impression than a generic, "Hey, what's up?" And if you want to send a sexy photo, just think about it before you do, Hope says. Even though basically everyone has and sends sexy photos, your recipient might not be expecting it from a total stranger right off the bat.

Barring the possibility of fate, Ilana's modern love story might have been successful because she and her partner are both pretty open and active on social media. Ilana used to model, and her partner has some 15K followers, so in a way it was sort of a game-recognize-game moment. "Knowing him now and looking back on it, it wasn't creepy at all," she says.

If your goal is an IRL meet-up, Hope recommends having three message exchanges before you ask them out, and be prepared for rejection. "I have to warn people that there's a probability this person [is dating] somebody, so you have to be upfront," she says. And even if you do meet up, they might not be exactly how you pictured them based on their social accounts, although that's a risk you take in any online dating scenario. And don't give away any more information than you would on your social profiles until you meet in person or feel comfortable enough with them, she adds.

Ilana says she thinks DM-sliding can be better than "traditional" online dating, because her conversation with her boyfriend-to-be felt more organic and less stilted than it would have in the confines of a dating app. Was she creeped out? "It was def weird that he was so persistent, but that's just how he is with everything," she says. "But hey, look at us now." The moral: Always check your DMs; you never know who might slide in.

Here are a few phrases that will help you slide in.

*Name has been changed to protect her identity.

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What do you call a text message that's flirty, but not yet a sext? A flext? I'm still brainstorming.

Whatever you call them, flirty text messages are the reality for most people dating in 2017. And text message flirting can be just as scary as in-person flirting. First off, you need to suss out whether or not your crush is at least mildly interested in you before you blow up their phone.

"You know your crush is receptive to flirting if he or she is responsive," says Barbara Greenberg PhD, a clinical psychologist who specializes in family and relationship issues. "Pupils dilate when a person is interested in you. Look into the eyes of the one you are flirting with. They speak volumes."

If you're mostly limited to texting or online messaging, Dr. Greenberg confirms what many of us already know: More than likely, your crush is into you if they carry on the conversation and respond without too much of a lag time.

At a loss for the words (and emojis!) to send to someone? I put together some tried-and-true text messages to send when you want to flirt but haven't started sexting yet. (But if you're already there, here's how to kick the conversation up a notch.)

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Urban Decay, Kat Von D, and Tarte might be best known for pigmented palettes and lipsticks, but the latest launches from the makeup giants prove they know fragrance, too. Ahead, we imagined what the newest scents from the brands could smell like if the names were taken literally versus what they really give off.

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