All the couples you know can’t make up for all the crap you take.

Photo by Helena Lopes from Pexels

Every now and then, I lose my shit. I see someone publicly ranting and moaning about the perils of online dating, and I physically cannot prevent myself from pointing out the obvious: If you’re single, dating apps are optional. (If you’re married, dating apps are off-limits, but it’s not like that’s stopping anyone.) We don’t have to use dating apps, they are not required like rent and taxes, but for some reason, the single community still sees them as mandatory. …


Five letters and 38 years of this sh*t.

This bathing suit photo was carefully selected so that people would actually read this essay and retain its information. If you feel the need to criticize my appearance please feel free, you’re only contributing to the algorithmic success of my work.

I can’t anymore. This is the day I break. Here you go world, here’s 38 years of shame, rage, and exhaustion dragon-breathing onto a digital page because of my unfathomably unpronounceable name. I woke up and chose phonetics and heaven help you all. Today I stop feeling bad about myself and start acknowledging that maybe all of you are the idiots instead and it feels good, it feels good to hit bottom. Do you know how to say it? Give it a try, maybe in your head. I bet you’re wrong. …


And it is most definitely not your fault.

Photo by Francesco Mazzoli on Unsplash

To begin, I take umbrage (what a fantastic word) with “still.” Still implies that you’re late, that you haven’t done something fast enough, and that’s bad. Last I checked, not only was there no globally mandated timeline for partnerships, but I’m pretty sure we have the capacity to love until we’re dead. Whatever time it is, you’ve got more, and “still” is a trash way of pressuring you into feeling like a loser. Now then, let’s get on with it.

This is a response to an article that was recently brought to…


The priceless company of stress-free entertainment.

I will admit that somewhere in the middle of Season One I googled, “Is Bosch for old people?” Judge me if you want, but I’m so scarred by anxiety-inducing plot lines and lightening-fast pacing that the gentle cadence and ease with which Bosch is delivered had me thinking I’d stumbled into the wrong room. Bosch is a seven-season Amazon Original series that I’d seen on the sides of busses for years but had never partaken in until recently. …


Ma’am.

Photo: GettyImages

“Let’s jump on a quick call.” Has there ever been a more stomach-churning, eye-rolling, exasperating phrase uttered by human mouths? Why is this done? Why is it a commonly used term in the professional space? This isn’t something we do socially. If I asked a friend to “jump on a quick call,” they’d assume it was done in error and that I meant to send that text to a coworker probably named Steve. “Let’s jump on a quick call” is deceiving. We think it’s a professional act of responsibility but, it connotes laziness, a lack of clarity, and a complete…


More quippy, fault-based dating advice for singles? Groundbreaking.

I can’t count how many times my podcast audience has asked me to have Mark Groves on as a guest. It’s sweet how they think I’m at the level where he’s bookable for me, and someday I hope to be there, but for now I’m limited to listening to his podcast, which is what happened today. It wasn’t unprompted. A member of my pod’s Facebook group posted a recent episode of Mark’s that didn’t sit well with her. …


THIS IS US

Grandma, why do you have so much hand sanitizer?

Photo: Aleksandr Zubkov / Getty Images

My great-grandmother saved Sweet ’N Low packets. Those little pink rectangles of currency now only found in very old, very sticky diners where rent is minimal and corporate interest in property nonexistent. In her lifetime I don’t think my great-grandmother ever purchased an artificial sweetener of any kind. She never needed to. There was always a healthy supply in whatever giant purse was within arm’s reach. If those ran out (they never ran out), there were old shoe boxes in cabinets serving as secondary stash. …


Part of my anxiety is forgetting that I have a way to ease it.

Photo by Marie Pankova from Pexels

There’s no “right” way to do anxiety, I’ve learned this. It comes in more flavors than Pop Tarts so don’t worry if yours doesn’t look like your neighbor’s. My anxiety is the consuming, paralyzing sort, and it has symptoms of depression, too—just for kicks. When the foundations of my senses of security, ability, autonomy, and home are disrupted, my anxiety pays me and my brain a little visit, and then takes over the whole goddamned house.

On June 30th, I moved to New Orleans from New…


I’m not a regular editor. I’m a cool editor.

Hi, hey how are you? Couple things…I’ve noticed lately that while you are all definitely reading the Atta Girl guidelines and emailing me the appropriate code word (IYKYK), I’m still seeing a lot of content come in recently that’s awesome to publish on one’s own, but missing the mark in terms of being Atta Girl content. Below is a quick refresher course in what I’d to include in this publication, and what’s better submitted elsewhere or published on your own.

1 — Drafts

Please do not submit drafts to Atta Girl…


It’s not about what dating is like somewhere else—it’s what you’re like wherever you are.

Photo by Alexandr Podvalny from Pexels

We need to talk about goals. Not life goals, not girlboss-on-a-private-jet #bestlife bullshit, but the practical goals we want individual tasks and projects to accomplish. In the singlehood space, one of my biggest and most recurring concerns within this community is the disappointment and frustration that come with doing one thing, but secretly assigning “finding someone” as a secondary goal to that activity. We’re essentially taking everyday scenarios and twisting them—sometimes all of them—into opportunities to not be single anymore. We’re losing sight of the…

Shani Silver

NPR once called me a humor essayist, let’s go with that. Host of A Single Serving Podcast. shanisilver[at]gmail

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