I turned twenty-four two months ago. While you may be thinking that “quarter-life” comes at age twenty-five, I’m going to use the argument that most folks don’t live to be one hundred and it’s close enough. I’ve heard people talking about said “quarter-life crisis,” but it has really started resonating over the past few months.

How fortunate are we to live in a society where some of the biggest daily battles many of us face are the ones with the mirror?

One could assume that because I had the privilege of living and working in a manor house (for the love of all things holy, Harlaxton is NOT a castle) in the United Kingdom for four months, traveled nearly every weekend and found love along the way, that my life may as well be written in […]