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I thought that antidepressants would be an instant fix. Like Tylenol for a headache: pop the pill, wait thirty minutes, and you’re happy again.

There's a new epidemic in town. It's not what you think. | I’ve noticed a cultural trend these past few years, in which Gen Z is becoming increasingly more obsessed with labels. When every feeling needs a self-diagnosis attached, we risk cheapening words that carry serious weight.

This morning, you asked me how I was doing, and my life flashed before my eyes. It felt like one of those movie moments, when the car veers off the road, and the protagonist is left staring wide-eyed into the fast-approaching headlines.

I love the concept of parallel worlds: that there exist alternate universes which spin in synchrony with our own, different by fractional or exponential magnitudes. As I grow older, I’m realizing that in a polarized world, the multiverse becomes real—just not in the way we might think.

When I return to the private all-girls school that defined my adolescence, my breath comes in the shudder of a well-traveled machine. What I discovered in those four years wasn't education in any meaningful sense. It was indoctrination into a system that prepares us for life by nearly destroying our ability to live it.

Sometimes, taking risks will reward you with the best memories of your life. Other times, they’ll leave you in a foreign airport, crying ugly tears to a Boomer with cigarette breath. Mine gave me both. I think that's a trade-off worth accepting.

I’ve always been fascinated by intrusive thoughts. They are paradoxes; the more we resist, the louder they become.

Technology is no longer a tool but a lifestyle, and smartphone addiction is an epidemic. I miss the days when screen time felt like a luxury.

Once upon a time, my grades were my love language to myself. What happens when someone who has built her entire worth around her intelligence finally struggles? I found out when I almost failed a class in my sophomore year of college.