Removed from the college bubble and re-planted in a new life, the field is wiped clean again. I have to again make a real, conscious decision about where I fit in and how I stack up. There seem to be metrics in place for who’s “winning” post-grad—high-power job? committed relationship? best apartment? coolest city?—but there’s no prize.
Read More“So Ashlee, what are your big plans for tonight?”
I was in the middle of working as a production assistant for a week-long writer’s workshop, and one of the writers tossed out the question as we were all packing up to leave the space for the evening.
It was simple small talk, but I didn’t have a good answer for it.
Read MoreThere comes a time in every child's life when they realize that their parents might not be the "be all and end all" when it comes to opinions. There might, God forbid, be something that you question. Something that you choose, willingly, to defy. I'm not talking about curfews or rules when it comes to alcohol or boys in the house. I'm talking about the things that you believe to your core, the things that you choose to let define you, the things that you will go to bat to defend. The things that make you... you.
Read MoreI haven’t been on a date in seven months. This is the point in the chick film where my best friend says it’s time to get drunk and go find a dude (pops a cork and champagne splashes everywhere). Believe me when I say the desire is there, but the rush and opportunity has not been presented. It’ll happen in it’s own time, I suppose.
Regardless of how timing works, I came to find that perhaps, just perhaps, examining my past relationships and what I learned from them would be the only way to learn from my mistakes in order to have a healthy relationship in the future, whenever that may be.
Read MoreFew people warn you of the transition of moving back home. There exists this strange chasm between the gradual independence gained in college and the desired autonomy of adulthood. A degree of dependence, for me, has become unavoidable and I am constantly being reminded of how fortunate I am to be in such a position. It is oddly dispiriting, however, to watch as my carefully constructed independence is dismantled.
Read MoreOn Monday, I am happy because I visited my college this past weekend. I walked around campus and remembered lots of little things—who I sat on that bench with, where I ate the most deliciously unhealthy meals, what sidewalks got to eavesdrop on my heartbreak. It’s all still there and so are my friends and everything about it is as beautiful as I left it.
And then I am sad, because I had to come back here and wake up early and go to work. College has gone on existing. It is difficult to fathom my campus without me, me without it. There used to be a hole in the Boston College atmosphere where I fit perfectly, and I am afraid that pockets of me are still left behind there, in those gaps. I’m afraid that there are holes in me now that I won’t know how to fill.
Read MoreI step inside the duplex, the one I had been living in for the last year with four of my best friends, and immediately notice the new coffee maker in the kitchen. The duplex looks a bit different now with three new tenants. Two of my best friends still live there and every time I visit I notice a new way the interior has changed in my absence. I feel almost cheated on by that house before I remind myself that houses don't have feelings and it's not personal, Maddi.
Read MoreI sat in the corner of the empty bedroom in my apartment trying to get that perfect picture for Instagram. It was my last chance to take in the view before I subleased it to someone else. It had been my home for over a year and a place where many happy memories were created.
Read MoreIt's just about midnight and I'm a teeny bit past my deadline for this post. I'm sitting on the sidewalk and my bright orange volunteer shirt is hardly hidden under my sweater. I'm trying to cover it because I'm crying.
Read MoreI’m disappointed in myself for slipping into the darkest place I’ve ever fallen into, becoming bitter and cynical. Being told a hundred times that “I’m going to be okay” and listening to such words as a broken record of defeat. I guess it took some pita chips and a glass of wine to remind me that things can be half-full once again.
Read MoreIt’s just a text. A normal weekend text from your dad, who happens to double as one of your best friends. As I waved goodbye to a colleague on a Friday afternoon, leaving for a work lunch, I had decided I would walk home, even though it was a long walk and the sun was blistering. But it was the start of July Fourth weekend, and I was excited.
Except the text from my dad wasn’t the normal “what are you up to tonight?” or “have a great weekend and we will talk Sunday.”
Read MoreIf you grew up with pets and then transitioned to living on your own without pets, you’ll understand the slight twinge of sadness you feel when you come home after a long day and there’s no puppy to lick your face or kitten to brush its soft fur against your legs.
Read MoreThe funny thing about getting engaged is that life doesn’t stop and grant you sufficient time to plan a huge event, workout for the dress, go through pre-marital counseling, get engagement pictures done, etc. Nope, life moves forward at a relentless pace, continuing to require your time and energy per the usual. Here are 3 keys to planning your wedding even when life won't slow down for you.
Read MoreNew things, better things.
That’s been a go-to phrase for me for the past several months, a reminder in a rather transition-heavy and emotionally-turbulent time in my life to keep my eyes set on the good things to come rather than the worries I usually burden myself with needlessly.
And in the spirit of new things, better things comes along That First Year getting a makeover.
Read MoreThree days after my birthday I got dumped. Plain and simple. I was about to leave for a month in Germany, followed by a more permanent residence in Alabama for graduate school, when my boyfriend said he wasn’t prepared for the distance. It hurt, I cried, and then I drank more wine than I should have.
I spent the time leading up to my trip to Berlin thinking about the what if’s: What if I wasn’t leaving for half the summer? What if I could stay in Nashville? Would things change? Three weeks of driving myself crazy with questions made me realize that I needed to go to Europe, if only to provide myself with a distraction from neurotically checking my ex’s Instagram page. I packed my bags and in mid-May settled into seat 27C on a flight from Dallas to Frankfurt, thinking that maybe this was a good way for me to take a break from the breakup.
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