My Scars
From the left knee I injured in a high school basketball game to the more metaphorical burns I've suffered in politics, they remind me I'm a fighter.

Photographs of My Mother
We lost her 23 years ago, but I still remember the sage advice my mom gave when I'd come home upset over what kids said about my hair or clothes: "It's not what they call you; it's what you answer to."

Those Last Five Pounds
Don't get me wrong, I'd like to get rid of them. But after a long year of working out, I've realized it's okay if success isn't 100 percent.

My Foul Mouth
I know cursing suggests a limited vocabulary, but sometimes there is just no substitute.

The "Colored Girls"
We bonded decades ago on Jesse Jackson's presidential campaign, and they're still my best girlfriends. Today they're White House aides and vice chairs, but we'll be laughing, swearing, and passing around a bottle of wine into our 80s.

More Advice from Donna Brazile


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