As it always does, summer is flying by. I’m soaking it up and cherishing the long days. Tomorrow is my last day at my corporate job. In honor of that, here are some of my favorite summer eats, purchases, mantras, habits and more that have kept my mental health in a steady and consistent happy baseline for 2 months now.

Eeeatsss:

• Cherries — I swear the ones out of Washington state are the best in years

• Briermere Farms pies - The fresh fruit peach cream pie has been my favorite pie since I was a little girl. It never fails me.

• Buddha Berry - If you know me, you know I live for ice cream. A place that has ample flavors and exciting toppings… sign me up for fro yo every night.

Purchases:

• Vuori Retrograde Shorts - I have been living in these since buying them this week. They are the perfect walking in Central Park shorts or throw on to run errands in shorts.

• Night light for reading my book in bed while my husband sleeps next to me? Instant upgrade of bedtime routine as I focus on reading before bed and don’t need the lights on to do so.

• Superieur electrolytes - One of my Mom’s yogi besties turned her on to these electrolytes and I’ve been drinking them every day. I am a sweaty human in general and this summer’s humidity has me taking multiple showers per day. Using electrolytes in my water first thing in the morning makes me feel more hydrated and clear.

Mantras:

• My second half of 2026 word has been “ACCEPTANCE.” It has radically shifted my energy to see the glass half full and realize that I am 100% in control of my response to things. I can choose self pity or I can choose gratitude. I can choose resentment or I can choose compassion. I’m not liking how something is going? Acceptance is the only answer that has brought me peace.

• Journaling in the morning speaking to my Higher Power asking “What will you have me be today?” I’ve finally surrendered the fight of trying to control my life. When I ask my Higher Power, which I call God most days, to show me the way, my day goes MUCH better.

• Put the phone down. My Mom once told me that the only parenting advice she has for me once my husband and I become parents one day is to “put my phone down and pay attention to my baby.” I find that advice helpful in my life currently. Putting my phone down opens me up to the present moment and being in the present is where I can find gratitude, peace, and contentment.

Habits

• I make the bed every day. I have for 15 years. I am superstitious and something about making the bed is essential for me. I can’t not do it. I highly recommend it. You feel accomplished just by taking the simple action of doing it.

• I have been walking, jogging, or running in the park every day (usually first thing in the morning but always at some point if I can’t get it in in the morning). Movement first thing for me always sets me up to have a better today. Even better when I do it with friends. I got to walk with two friends this week and both times it was the highlight of my week.

• Less caffeine and ideally not on an empty stomach. I am sensitive to anything put in my body. Blood tests have shown it. It definitely is the reason I’m an alcoholic (thank GOD a sober one). So caffeine is a vice I can use to get that quick adrenaline rush. Recently I’ve noticed my hands shaking in the morning which freaked me out and could be from over caffeination. I have gotten myself to one cup of coffee per day and then an iced latte as a treat on days that I want more than one cup. I’m really trying to get on the iced green tea game and get to just tea and decaf coffee.

Disclaimer: I hate listing things I’ve “purchased” because it feels yucky influencer vibes as if I’m trying to profit off of selling you something. I don’t have any affiliation with the things listed above and you do not need any of them.

Below is a pic of one of the coloring pages I finished. I am loving coloring right now. This is the coloring book I have.

Until next week friends! xxx

What your wedding ceremony or reception ends up as does NOT matter. What does matter is who you marry and the loved ones and community who are part of that.

In my biased opinion, I had a perfect wedding day. It feels tacky and uncomfortable to admit, but I cannot not address the privilege I had in having a generous wedding budget. My dad works harder than anyone I know. I am not sure in his 48 years of working whether he’s ever actually been completely off for longer than a few days. As a self-made son of a plumber from Rockaway Beach, my Dad provided his only daughter (me) with an unforgettable wedding day. In writing this article, I texted my Dad to ask if either of his parents went to college. I know his mother did not, but I could not remember if his father did. His response: “had opportunity but alcoholic father prohibited him from going to college.” I could write more about my dad breaking a cycle of a dark disease in building our family. What I’ll say is that my Dad has tirelessly devoted his life to being the best father possible, and he made it so that I could have any kind of wedding I wanted. I could write a lot to qualify my wedding to assuage my fears of getting “canceled” or seeming out of touch. I hope you’ll assume that I have the best intentions in sharing these intimacies and that I am grateful every day for being able to have a dream wedding in my favorite city in the world.

The weather was magical, we had all of our favorite people there, and it was truly the best day of my life. Could I tell you what color ivory tablecloths I selected? No. Could I tell you what I ate? No. Could I name one appetizer we passed? Nope. Can I remember all of the songs the band played? Nope. Do I remember the hugs from our loved ones? Yes. Do I remember chugging Diet Cokes and dancing my heart out to Pink Pony Club with all of my loved ones? Yes.

Instagram/social media/social pressure/our culture paints this consumerist/gluttonous bullsh*t that marriage is some check mark, and a wedding is an opportunity to flex wealth or status or “perfection.” There are entire social media accounts dedicated to showcasing curated pictures of brides and grooms and lists of the “best-in-class” vendors they used.

What makes a wedding enjoyable to me is the witnessing of love between two people and how the day is unique to the couple. I have been to twenty-two weddings (I just counted and fear I might even be missing some). I have a bad memory, so yes, you could blame it on that, but I also couldn’t tell you any meal I ate or song I danced to at any of the twenty I’ve attended, let alone my own, as I mentioned.

The day is about celebrating the love of a couple and witnessing two people become one as they vow to build a life together. And let me tell you, I have never seen those vows lived out more in my own marriage as I battled deep depression for months while my husband remained extremely loving, supportive, and patient.

So I guess my point is who you marry matters. The place cards, don’t.

Every couple has a “thing".

You will likely have something you disagree about or handle differently within your relationship. Ours is driving. Our latest incident with driving happened only yesterday evening so it feels too raw to address. My best advice? I try to assume the best and be understanding where the other person is coming from. I’ve had to remind myself time and time again that my way of thinking is not the only way of thinking or necessarily “right".

Marriage requires work. We have to continually choose to prioritize each other.

Life gets big and time is precious. There are weeks where we get to Friday and I feel like I’ve had twenty minutes of quality time with my husband because of our work schedules and life schedules. I’ve realized how important it is to carve out that dedicated quality time. Whether it’s a walk after a meal or a coordinated date night, we have to consciously make time for each other. It doesn’t just happen, it requires planning and commitment.

Sometimes marriage is 50/50 but a lot of times it’s 90/10 or 80/20 or 70/30 or 60/40.

I am forever grateful for the support my husband gave me during the depths of my struggles this winter. He handled the laundry, the cooking, the cleaning, the organizing, the dry cleaning, and anything that had to be done to keep our household running and always with patience and grace. He never passed judgment when the best I could do some days was get out of bed and shower. I took on more in times he had a more demanding work schedule, other times he took on more as I was traveling for work. We never tally’d who did what and we always were grateful for each of our contributions. I was down bad and my husband was the 90 and I was the 10. I always knew marrying my husband was the best decision I’ve ever made in my life. I only appreciated him more when witnessing how he lived out in sickness and in health in the early days of our marriage.

Laugh together.

After our aforementioned driving thing from yesterday, I sang a made up song in our service elevator about our personalities and we both burst out laughing. There is magic in shared laughter and I’m so grateful my husband and I laugh together often.

So one year into marriage, I’m a grateful woman. To my husband, I love you more than any words could ever capture. Thank you for building a life with me. I choose you always.

Right before falling asleep last night, I asked my husband to look up the definition of taboo. This morning I looked it up myself: “unspoken everyday rules regarding polite conversation, interpersonal boundaries, or personal relationships.” The word originates from the Polynesian word tapu or tabu, meaning "sacred" or "forbidden". Its use dates back to the 1700s when Captain James Cook used it to describe something "sacred, forbidden, or off-limits" on one of his adventures. Why my sudden curiosity with the word taboo? I most recently heard it used in discussing the stigma of mental health. Talking to others who have dealt with depression has helped me. This blog is a detailed and vulnerable recap of one treatment I tried for depression.

A few months ago, I sat on a zoom meeting in a conference room at work, tears streaming down my face, trying to keep my volume level low enough that no one could hear my conversation but loud enough for my psychiatrist to hear me. I declared “but I’m not a depressed person, this is just a depressive episode”. I was baffled how little I knew about depression and determined not to be labeled as someone struggling with “depression”. For someone who deeply cares about advocating against the stigma of mental health, alcoholism, and addiction, I was not acting like it. I couldn’t accept that I was dealing with depression and I couldn’t accept that getting back to my baseline self wouldn’t happen with a snap of my fingers. I had these milestones in my head of when I should “feel better” and I was willing to do anything.

Around the time of that zoom as I was trying to expedite my “healing” from depression, I ended up at coffee with someone who shared with me the success they had in doing transcranial magnetic stimulation for depression treatment. The treatment place they’d gone to happened to take insurance. (I do not understand health insurance at all and I could go on and on about how frustrating I find it all). Grasping for hope that the treatment could work for me too, I booked a consultation appointment. The psychiatrist scanned my brain. He asked me a list of questions. He said things I didn’t understand nor cared to ask follow up questions about. And that kicked off 6 weeks of me going to a little office in midtown 5 days per week to get what I have previously referred to as my “brain shocked.”

Each session, a technician put a yellow swim cap looking cotton cover on my head and then measured to make sure the machine was on the right part of my brain. Once the machine in place, I sat in the reclining chair for 20 minutes while my brain was tapped by a coil in bursts.

My brain was re-scanned after four weeks of the treatment and today after six weeks of treatment. The scan showed my brain waves had changed, indicating neural plasticity. Have I felt better over the last six weeks? Absolutely. Is it because of the treatment or because of the SSRI medication or the weather getting better or trying to keep to a routine of things that I know help with managing depression or some combination of all of those things? I’m not sure.

When I couldn’t get out of bed in January and experienced a level of hopelessness, despair, and doom I had never faced, it felt like I would never get back to myself. Every single person I spoke to who has dealt with depression assured me that I would get through it and I would not feel the way I did forever. I could write a whole blog on how depression has radically changed me and how I see the world.

Showing up at a random office in midtown 5 days per week was a commitment. Some days I could only make it there late after getting out of bed rushing into the shower to get ready for the work day. Other days I arrived after a morning meditation session and workout. Some days I went after work and got headaches from a day of thinking followed by pulses delivered to my brain. I’m proud of myself for sticking with the treatment.

I am intensely grateful that I was able to get help when I needed it most. Part of me thought about sharing more in depth about the worst of the worst times when I couldn’t get out of bed and brushing my teeth felt like more than I could handle, but I’m still traumatized from that period of life. It terrifies me how desperately hopeless I was and I feel intense shame over the pain I put my husband and parents through as witnesses.

What I’ve gained coming out of a dark hell I wish on no one is a new appreciation for the little things in life. I took a picture of an older couple holding hands in Central Park this morning (see below) because it made me smile.

I am privileged to have had support in getting help. I have an understanding boss who never questioned why I was rushing into the office after 9am or leaving at 5pm to go to treatment. I have the best husband in the world who supported and loved me through my worst moments and reminded me daily that “everything is okay”. I am forever indebted to my parents who showed me grace and love always and provided financial help that I know so many people don’t have. Close friends and amazing new friends checked in on me and held me through the roughest times.

So TMS, thank you. I appreciate that you helped. I don’t ever want to wear a yellow swim cap looking thing again.

If you told me I had to give up diet coke and travel to the Himalayas and only eat sand for 40 days to get out of the depression, I would have done it. What I’ve learned: there is no perfect treatment for depression. There is no one snap of the fingers, shock of the brain, shaman or energy healing that “cures". What has helped me is taking small actions each day to get back to myself. In the process, I’m building a new self.

Here are my three shimmers of joy from my week:

1. Listening to The Upward Spiral on Audible.

2. Reading Theo of Golden on my Kindle before bed every night.

3. An electric Knicks win (New York City I love you) and a certain SEC baseball team making it to the COLLEGE WORLD SERIES.

Until next week friends… xx

I have had several conversations this week about the admin of adulting. The conclusion I have come to: everyone has to do it and few people like it. There is always laundry to do. I see our local dry cleaner more than I see my closest friends. Somehow my hair is always on our bathroom floor no matter how many times I use our hand held vacuum to suck it up. The only hack I have is to take it one task at a time. If I think about everything at once, I’m overwhelmed. But with an organized to do list and a little grace, I can tackle it all one step at a time.

My other solution is indulging in a blueberry muffin for breakfast. I’ve written about the toxic diet culture my generation grew up in. I’ve demonized blueberry muffins since Dunkin’ Donuts started listing the calories in them. High school me would stare at that 500+ number and think, well how will I ever manage to eat only 1,500 calories if my muffin is already 500. God forbid I don’t have protein for breakfast. Yesterday morning I wanted a blueberry muffin so I marched my way to Ole & Steen near my office to indulge. Every bite was blissfully delicious. I have zero regrets. When being an adult feels hard, try the blueberry muffin trick.

Here are my three shimmers of joy from my week:

1. There is a new gelato place, il laboratorio del gelato in our neighborhood. It is fresh, clean, lit with the right lighting that makes you feel good about yourself staring in the mirror. 11/10 recommend it for anyone who lives on the Upper East Side or anywhere in NYC.

2. I had a wonderful conversation a few weeks ago about all of the bad startup ideas I’ve had. My latest fixation: a helmet for private conversations. There are many times I have wanted to take a phone call without being overheard while walking the streets of New York City or in my office. I can never properly determine if I’m screaming while wearing AirPods or if no one can hear anything I’m saying. Our office phone booths are not sound proof enough for when I need to rant about any number of ways I’m dissatisfied with spending my day writing and researching AI when I am team human, team community, team let’s minimize screen time and not team agent or team robots. I imagine the helmet similar to the helmets the NYPD officers wear in parades but you can pick your color and accessorize as you like. Like Crocs or the latest iPhone… but different. Have you had any bad startup ideas? I’d love to hear them.

   

3. I got to catch up on the phone today with my brother’s wife and hear about updated wedding ceremony plans. My other sister-in-law sent me the cutest pictures of her and my other brother. I never wanted sisters once I was convinced that being the only girl made me the princess of my family. Growing up with brothers is such a part of my identity. Female friendships have never come easy to me. The shimmer today is deep gratitude that my brothers are married/marrying two special badass women that I get to call my family.

One final thought: Someone very special in my life is celebrating 38 years of sobriety today. My life would look nothing like it does today if it weren’t for the gifts of sobriety.

Until next Friday… be well

Ordinary Girl is back. What a few months it has been. I battle with sharing authentically while mindful of dumping my raw emotions out on the internet for anyone to read. The TLDR I’m comfortable sharing is that 2026 presented me with the greatest challenge I’ve ever faced: crippling clinical depression. It has rocked me and broken me down in ways I didn’t know possible. I’m still not completely myself. I started TMS therapy this week which I jokingly refer to as “going to get my brain shocked.” But I’m doing miles better than I was and for that, I am insanely grateful.

My experience with depression robbed me of a lot but one of the hardest parts has been the self-doubt, the self-consciousness, the self-criticism. I archived all of my previous blog posts on here because I kept telling myself I stunk at writing. I told myself everyone is thinking I’m inconsistent, I am not writing about anything meaningful, no one cares. (No one is thinking about me, everyone is thinking about themselves). I have to remember that thoughts can be false. But a clouded, depressed brain clings to any negative view of self.

So I’m back and excited to be writing. I’m committing to writing to you all every Friday. I know that with consistency, I’ll get better at writing. And with time, I’ll come back to myself.

Here are my three shimmers of joy from my week:

1. Attending Rembrandt’s World and the Birth of New York at the New York Historical Society with my hubby this evening

2. Using this fabulous eye cream that makes the bags under my eyes disappear

3. Diving into a new book… currently reading The Motherload

There are many who have carried me through this hard season. Beyond grateful to have such an overwhelming amount of love and support in my life.

Until next Friday… be well