Life & Love

A past-lives reader once told me that I hadn’t had a good relationship since ancient Greece. I remember thinking, “I knew I was in a slump, but wow.” This reading was somewhere between Marriage Number One (in which, two years in, my husband realized he was gay) and Marriage Number Two (in which, 14 years

I’ve witnessed plenty of weddings this past year. I’ve seen vows exchanged beneath sprawling live oaks and bridesmaids gliding down flower-strewn aisles under the twinkle of outdoor lights. I’ve witnessed one bride wearing Margiela, a soon-to-be husband in happy tears. I’ve even heard the chatter of reconnected families echo through grand corridors, laughter flowing just

JIAYI LI At 7:48 P.M., I texted a friend who asked me how my first day of work went: No time to even pee. I thought it was the best job in the world. I was the sole assistant to the billionaire founder of the hottest hedge fund on Wall Street. My boss, let’s call

In ELLE.com’s monthly series Office Hours, we ask people in powerful positions to take us through their first jobs, worst jobs, and everything in between. This month, we spoke with Seema Bansal Chadha, co-founder of Venus et Fleur—the innovative floral company behind the Kardashian-approved Eternity Roses. Below, Chadha shares how her brand first stemmed from

Getty Images She’s a slut. A homewrecker. She’s basic. She’s a guy’s girl, damaged goods. Oh, she’s asking for it dressed like that. She’s crazy; a lonely spinster; a drama queen. An angry Black woman, a nasty woman. A stupid bitch. The list of casual everyday insults hurled at and between women and girls is

I’m headed out for drinks with friends when my seven-year-old alerts me that my dress is see-through. I wave her off with my mascara wand, but she stands adamant, marker-stained knuckles pressed against her hip. “No, Mama. I can see your bra.” Her voice is steeped in concern, like she’s caught me breaking the rules,

My mom, eternally optimistic about my love life, despite ever-increasing evidence to the contrary, would routinely check in after a first date. “Nothing to write home about!” I’d usually say, on the defense, already scrubbing whatever-his-name from memory. She’d sigh lovingly, wondering why her catch of a daughter wasn’t having more luck finding the kind

I found her in my mid-30s. I had just run for Congress in New York City, and lost spectacularly. Utterly humiliated, I spent most of my time alone, glued to my couch. My now-husband, Nihal, knew just how to cheer me up: we piled into a rental car, and drove to a farm in Pennsylvania.

My son was struggling with AP History in the kitchen while my new-ish relationship—a boyfriend of six months who I am really enjoying seven years after my divorce—was waiting on the couch in the living room. With the TV remote in his hand, ready to play a chilling documentary—our favorite form of relaxation—I knew I

For It Takes a Village, ELLE’s latest package exploring the intersection of parenthood and community, poet and author Cleo Wade penned an original poem about the “group work” necessary to create “big love” in the world. Wade, whose new children’s book, May You Love and Be Loved, is out now, also spoke to ELLE.com about

There’s a special shade of green—somewhere in between a yellowy chartreuse and a loud neon—that hits the trees in Philadelphia each spring and summer. I had never noticed it before, this green that enthusiastically and bossily announces that it is green, but then again, I had never noticed a lot of things before this year,

When I was a kid, I would read Anne of Green Gables voraciously. I was genuinely obsessed with the ideas imparted within the pages of Lucy Maude Montgomery’s book about dreamy friendships, wherein two people were absolutely soulmates. They never had glaring differences, communicated wordlessly without having to ask about past traumas or trying nervously

In ELLE.com’s monthly series Office Hours, we ask people in powerful positions to take us through their first jobs, worst jobs, and everything in between. This month, we spoke to Sarah Paiji Yoo, co-founder and CEO of Blueland, a brand specializing in cleaning products and self-care essentials that aim to eliminate single-use plastics. As a

In February, nearly 10 years after she was first placed in my arms, I instinctively felt something was severely wrong with my French bulldog, Petunia. Every vet I brought her to could find nothing in her tests or blood work that indicated cause for concern, but I knew my pet, and I knew she was

In March 2022, Brianna Kohn felt something was missing. The telltale signs of the pandemic had left everyday city life, but with that, so had most of her close girlfriends, who had moved out of New York in the meantime. The women she would typically call up for a cup of coffee, a walk, or

What if apologies became obsolete? Alternatively, imagine they’re replaced with fruit. For example, a driver hits your dog, and the next day an apple appears on your front porch. A first-grader is reprimanded for kicking sand into the eyes of another child on the playground—he presents his victim with a banana. Step on the back

The summer after ninth grade, I worked as a nanny in The Hamptons. I was actually called a “mother’s helper,” but I can’t say I was much help. The mother had to prompt me, “Any chance you could get out of bed and watch the kids, or at least fold some of these sheets?” I’d

The year is 2013. Oxford Dictionary’s word of the year is “selfie.” People are posting nudes on Tumblr and watching season 2 of Girls. There’s a documentary about Burning Man. The Feminist Porn Awards are still a thing. Lindsay Lohan is shooting The Canyons opposite an adult film star. It was a different time, and

I started dating myself, and I have to be honest, at first it wasn’t easy. Taking myself out wasn’t exactly scary, but it was definitely awkward. We are so busy all the time, so scheduled and constantly connected, that being alone in a restaurant came as a bit of a shock. When I started taking

My heart was racing and my head was faint. Don’t touch me, I thought. This inner voice was a stark wake-up call when I came home from a work trip to Indonesia and recoiled from my husband’s embrace. At the time, I was reeling in sadness and confusion because I was contending with the inner