Growing up, my immigrant parents had a simple philosophy: others always have it worse.

This winter, I stopped playing pickleball. I mean, I was still on the court. But somewhere along the way I stopped playing and started competing.

I was near the top of my game when I stopped planning weddings. I stopped because I didn't recognize myself anymore.

I used to feel like I had to be serious to be taken seriously.

I got yelled at this week. I was volunteering, trying to help someone, and I made a mistaken assumption about what they actually needed. My good intentions could have caused more harm.