Once upon a time, I was going to be a writer, a fashionista, an "It" girl, and I was going to make the world mine. I was 20, and I thought I knew everything about how my life would go. I recently turned 30, and I am not a writer, fashionista, or an "It" girl (nor do I want to be. Exhausting). I do, however, believe I have made the world my own.

I started my 20's by making the choice to move back the small town my parents lived in to complete my degree, after 2 years of a roller coaster of college and boys. I made the decision at 20 to finish my degree and to focus on college, at which I was succeeded enough to graduate. I also had a great time, made amazing friends, and tried to figure out what I was doing with my life, basically like this:
 

Okay, that was for an 80's party, but that was me, for most of my 20's- fun, ridiculously dressed about 40% of the time, and trying to figure out what I was doing.

I had a lot of ups and downs- I dated a lot of jerks (some of which are still my friends); had countless thankless, underpaying jobs; and I spent most of it living with my parents (sometimes in their basement- stereotypes can be real, kids). On the up-side, I did move out, found a career path, and met the most wonderful man. I always kept pretty amazing hair and stayed true to myself.

So as 30 approached, I kept thinking about starting a blog concerning my next chapter- friends getting married, having babies, fashion, food, relationships, not my job (because I am learning to leave that at work), pets, travelling, and anything else that happens in my future.

Currently, I'm coming to terms with a recent diagnosis with poly-cystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS). That means a lot of different things for me, but the biggest is coming to terms with having a particularly slow metabolism. This affects my two favorite things: what I eat and what I wear. I am focused on what I eat and editing my fashion to fit the changes I'm seeing in myself. However, I struggle with my body, feeling both vindicated that there's a reason for the change, but also feeling like my body has betrayed itself. It's a daily struggle: something I'm coming to terms with, but it's often more emotionally than I will ever want to admit.

So welcome to my journey, complete with lipstick, delicious meals, fantastic clothes, personal successes, emotions (of all sorts), weddings, losses, but mostly just my life.



(Me just before my 30th birthday)