Back in 2017 I took my first solo international trip and visited the Netherlands, Ireland, Switzerland, and Austria – yes, all by myself. Turns out, this is an Olympic Gold-level achievement.

Lately I’ve been grieving the adventure, autonomy, and security that being employed full-time offered me. What’s been most exhausting as of late is the pain of worrying about how (and when) I will find the work I need in order to meet my own very basic needs: shelter, health insurance, food. That’s where I’m at.

Against my own (faulty) logic, I attended a free workshop for folks considering a public speaking career. What I walked away with I would have gladly paid money for but didn’t have to.

What I loathe more than heartbreak is this idea that heartbreak within the confines of an abusive relationship means that victims cannot possibly know an answer to this question: what does it mean to love?

I know it sounds too good to be true, but there really only is one thing that you need to do in order to make a birthday special for someone that’s special to you.

We’re probably all familiar with the idea of a “me season” that follows (perhaps) a time in life when we either passively or intentionally had to put our own needs to the side in order to deal with something, or someone else that was alleged to be more urgent. Here are five ways I’ve jumped back into my own (indefinite and permanent) Me Season.

As a recovering people pleaser, I often felt I was giving more to people than I was getting in return. This tale is old as time, and I could sufficiently intellectualize the problem -- yet none of this had any positive affect on my life until I started changing my words, actions, and beliefs. Apparently this is called...boundaries?