I’m honest. That being said, I’m insecure.

To me, saying I’m insecure sounds a little harsh. It sounds a little wobbly and flaky. It sounds dishonest and awkward. Sometimes, it seems like I’m a little too big for it, kind of like Alice in Wonderland after she ate that piece of crack bread and grew her arms out of a cottage. But I’m willing to believe actually admitting an insecurity of any sort is the first step to fixing it. And I’m very willing to believe that I’m not the only one out there feeling a little bit…emotional and unsure.

Of course there are a lot of things I’m positive and confident about. In relationships, the future, my friends, where my life is going…I am confident and positive that I love to write. I am confident and positive that I am treating my body like a temple (aside from the occasional Sunday morning after a night out at the bars). I am confident and positive that the Lady Gaga’s song called ‘Hair’ makes me feel THIS close to climbing a mountain wearing an 80′s outfit.  I am confident and positive that I deeply love my family, friends, horses, Jesus and Minnesota. I am confident.

But sh*t, I’m insecure too. I never know what I want with relationships. Do I want to make out with this guy at the bar, sleep over at his house and wake up like Sex in the City Samantha and walk out feeling like a million dollars? Do I follow a strict pattern of going on countless dates, letting the guy buy the first meal, wait for a second date, begin intensely dating and wake up for an early special and do it every morning to Maroon 5? Do I have a type? Am I not good enough for him/anyone just because one guy didn’t call me back? Read More »

I remember going to college expecting to make some of the best friends of my life. It had always seemed that way — you have nice high school friends, but gradually they fade out of the picture and your college friends dominate your life. Wasn’t that the way it was supposed to be?

As I arrived at school and plunged into the rigorous academic environment that was promised in the Princeton brochure, the social scene surprised me in some way. There were the usual kinds of people I expected — the jocks, the preps, the econ majors — but not the friendships I was looking forward to.

I had dining hall buddies (people to eat and swap jokes with), and homework buddies (people to frantically share answers on problem sets with), but there was no gang of girls sharing secrets and supporting each other the way there was in high school. I compared notes with other friends and they agreed; for one reason or another, no one had as close friendships in college as they did in high school.

Why? Read More »