If you have dreams you're ignoring but they keep calling to you like a telemarketer who just won’t give up... If you have fantasies about what your life could be but you are not pursuing them in any way at all... Then it’s time to take yourself seriously, my dear.

Taking a bath is a giant "eff you" to the world.

Tell someone how you're feeling. And if you don't have someone safe to talk to, open up your journal and tell the page.

You can’t govern how people treat you. You can't change the things they say. But you can absolutely decide what you will do with the gospel that nothing is personal and people are limited.

I have dated all of the men. And just when I think I’ve seen it all, the universe slides a fresh piece of absurdity across the table. (A story and a lesson about self worth➡️)

This guy and I have an amazing time. One of those effortless dates that stretched from afternoon to midnight. Then, I never heard from him again. . . (Keep reading)

At first, I questioned myself: - Did I say something weird? - Was I too much? But then, I remembered something my therapist said. . .

If you gave someone a beautiful diamond necklace and they threw it in the trash, does the necklace lose its value? No. It f*cking does not.

You are the diamond f*cking necklace. Someone else’s inability to see your worth? That’s on them.

This guy and I had an amazing time. One of those effortless dates that stretched from afternoon to midnight. Then, I never heard from him again. . . (Keep reading)

The blessing and the curse of dating after 30...

You're finally smart enough to know what you want, but too traumatized to believe you can actually have it.

What’s your weed? (A story and a lesson about letting go of your crutch →)

By 25, weed was how I coped with everything: trauma, colds, unopened emails from my aunt. (Keep reading)

And it worked. Weed put up a smoke screen that hid my problems from my awareness and made it possible for me to keep moving forward.

But survival isn’t the same as living. And I didn’t know who I was under all that smoke.

So I threw my pipe in the trash and smothered it in Greek yogurt. Fishing it out would be a humiliation even I couldn’t endure.

I didn’t quit weed because I knew who I was. I quit because I was ready to find out.

What's your weed? What numbs the pain just enough to keep you from changing? (A story about crutches that help us survive and why we have to let them go➡️)

Maybe she’s born with it. Maybe it’s Wellbutrin.