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A Letter To The Little Girls


When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about… there is a field. I’ll meet you there —Rumi

Photo by Mary Petiet


~How can I possibly begin this letter?

I have so much to say, so many words inside, which are crammed, arguing, scratching one another, and dying to be released.

I guess I’ll begin with “I’m happy you were born.” humanity needs you now more than ever & I truly believe you are here at the perfect time.

You may hear the world is going to HELL in a hand basket, but I don’t believe it. I believe together, all of us girls, well, we can alter the direction of our country, our communities, our lives.

Society will tell you you’re not good enough, smart enough, thin enough, pretty enough

They will say will need to stay young, get shots of Botox, buy expensive face creams, go on Weight Watchers, eat Kale, play stupid, and fit into a size 2.

They will say you will never be satisfied until you look a certain way, have Kim Kardashian’s ass and Beyonce’s bank account.

It’s all bullshit.

What they should be telling you is to utilize your brain, your thoughts, your brilliance, your ideas.

What they should be telling you is to discover your passion and purpose. Make a difference precisely where you are.

Where there is life—There is hope.

You must believe this or you will live in darkness. That’s the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

And by the way, you must know this—Some men will try to own you, but you are un-ownable and cannot be confined or caged, even by your parents.

Some of these men will demean, belittle, and minimize your worth. They will try to convince you it’s a man’s world, that they are in control. These men will rape you with their entitlement and religion and power.

It’s all bullshit.

You are the one in Control.

You are the one who will decide your destiny.

You are the one who can tilt the axis of the earth.

Here is the secret nobody is telling you.

You don’t need the things society is trying you sell you.

You have the Power to rise exactly where you are, as you are.

Okay. That’s that. For now.

I will meet you there!


— Love, Kim


Kim's Blogs

~Dialougue With Barbie

Barbie:  Hey little girl, thanks for buying me.

Little Girl: Mommy did.  Is your real name Barbie?

Barbie:  What did you expect, Paris?

Little Girl:  You’re pretty.  Am I gonna look like you when I grow up?

Barbie:  Sure, little girl, if you get your lips pumped up like Angelina Jolie, your chin sliced off, and your face stretched to the Canadian Provinces.

Little Girl: You have nice boobies, Barbie.

Barbie:  Well, I should, little girl, I payed big bucks for ‘um.  You see, people are more interested in your boobies than what you have to say.

Little Girl:  Can I get some?

Barbie:  Sure, why not.  But wait until you’re at least fifteen.  Boys like that. A lot.

Little Girl:  I wanna be skinny like you, Barbie.

Barbie:  You can, little girl!  Drink gallons of water, eat laxatives, (some come in chocolate) and stick your little fingers down your throat.

Little Girl: Wanna play house with me?

Barbie:  Oh, I’ve been playing house for a long time now, little girl.  When you meet a rich man to take care of you, you can play house, too.

Little Girl:  You’re old Barbie, why dont you have a job?

Barbie:   I never went to college because I went to Hollywood instead, and anyhow, little girl, I AM, after all,   Barbie.  And stop calling me old!

Little Girl: Do you still date Ken?

Barbie:  Yeah, sure, Ken and all the other dolls, too. Haven’t you heard of rainbow parties? DUh…

Little Girl:  How come you don’t got no hair down there like mommy does?

Barbie: Well, apparently mommy can’t afford a Brazilian Wax.

Little Girl:  Mommy told me I can be anything I want when I grow up.

Barbie:  That’s true, little girl.  Just look at me.  I strut my little ass around doing absolutely nothing, you know, like Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian, and you idiots pay me for it.  All I need to do is look beautiful and fit into a negative 0.   Oh, by the way, where am I going to live; in my Barbie house, my pink convertible, Ken’s place? 

Little Girl:  I don’t like playing with you anymore, Barbie.  I’m reeeeeeally, reeeeeally booooored. You’re just a piece of yucky plastic.  I’m going to pull your head off and throw you in the garbage can.


Little Girl:  You’re Barbie.        I’m just a little girl. You figure it out.

Kim's Blogs

My Love Affair With Sex and The City

JANUARY 5, 2010

~~~~I have been known to obsess over things….become addicted to this and that, that and this.

What a shocker.

For example,  I wore out my Robin Thicke CD;   my “Immaculate Conception” cassette (yes, cassette)  by Ms. Madonna has unraveled, and I can’t keep chocolate in the house without devouring every last rotten good for nothin’  fabulous piece.

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