What's the worst that can happen? If it doesn't do well I can put on my big girl panties, deal with it and move on.

My partner is a Frenchman, so I have got to smell right.

I no longer scramble blindly through hardship. I no longer emerge from a bad time feeling relieved just to have survived. Instead of despairing, I try to find the lesson within the experience.

I guess you could say I have bad taste in men. But I no longer feel the need to be someone's wife.

I didn't think it was possible at my age, honestly. They call it a geriatric pregnancy.

This moment is so much bigger than me. It's for every nameless, faceless woman of colour that now has a chance because this door tonight has been opened.

I also have been called that terrible "N" word straight to my face and not known what to do about it because it was just in like 1993 that someone called me that.