Five Hundred Miles Instead of a Fad Diet

In 2015, I shared one of my greatest struggles with my blog audience. In a post titled "The 'Happiest' Binge Eater of All," I gave the reader a front-row seat for the fight against my food addiction. It was by no means a pretty sight—especially when I shared the lengths I would go to conceal my habit—but I felt like I could publish it since I proudly assumed that the binging was behind me. It turns out, it was not.

Standing at a Crossroads (Yet Again)

Today I want to share something I wrote and then proceeded to keep to myself for over four years. I wrote it at a time when I was vulnerable and searching, and I have been scared to share it because I knew that doing so would highlight the flaws I wish weren't still so visible in my life. I would have probably continued keeping it to myself if it weren't for the events of recent weeks, but before I dive into that story, here is what I wrote in July 2014:

Finally Defining My Style

This has been an interesting blog post to write because most people I know can attest to the fact that I have had a checkered past when it comes to my apparel choices. These poor decisions have been evidenced in the past when I described my style as one that makes me look like "an extra in a searing documentary on the mistreatment of Walmart towards its employees" or when I pointed out how much I used to favor "Wrangler jeans, [a] button-down rodeo shirt, and cowboy boots." If those two quotes don't make you realize how bad my style has been, you should probably find a personal stylist.

When I Grow Up

I seriously considered starting this with the lyrics to the 2009 song "When I Grow Up," but I would like to believe that my readers are too highbrow to recognize that dated pop culture reference. The reason that I used a somewhat whimsical title is because I want to talk about the future. The one that I envisioned at different stages of life, and the "future" that I ended up living.

Life Lessons Shared by a Twice-Moved Young Adult

669 days ago, I packed up my car in New York and began my drive towards my new life. Ok, that's a tad dramatic. It was just me moving to Ohio to start my job in the admissions office at my alma mater. However, it was still quite the experience because, not counting the treks between my college dorm and home, I have only moved twice that I can remember.