• After our second child, my husband and I were struggling to balance our jobs and household admin.
• To outsource some of the cooking, I found a local chef to batch-cook meals for us once a month.
• Having a freezer packed with homemade meals saved us time, and I learned a lot from the chef.

When I returned to work after my second maternity leave, our family of four found ourselves very short on free time.

Back then, my husband and I had jobs in finance in London. We were working long hours, with video calls stretching from seven in the morning to nine at night.

On weekdays, like most families with young children, we felt like we were in a never-ending cycle of rushing everywhere. Our plates were filled with nursery drop-offs and pickups, Teams calls, making dinner, cleaning up, and getting the kids ready for bed and baths, with household chores and personal admin to be completed in what was left of our free time.

Though we had full-time childcare, we had little else in the way of daily support, as our families were not local.

In our social circle, we knew that dual-career parents with young children often bought supermarket-ready meals or ordered takeout. However, these options often felt too high in salt and sugar, and limited in their selection.

That was how I found myself posting in a Facebook group for Malaysian moms in the UK, desperately trying to find someone to cook for us.

I wasn't envisioning a personal chef who would shop and make three meals a day — our budget didn't stretch that far — rather, I hoped to find a decent home cook and had a few hours to make big, batch meals that we could freeze, then reheat on our busy weekdays.

That was how we found Evelyn.

For $150 a visit, we paid for someone to batch-cook meals for our family

Evelyn was an experienced pastry chef on furlough, like many in the food-service industry at the time — we connected in 2020, amid the COVID-19 pandemic.

She lived in a neighboring borough in London, which made our arrangement convenient. Equally as important, she was good at cooking Chinese-Malaysian dishes.

She would visit once a month, for about four to six hours. Our arrangement cost us around $150 per visit at the time. Before she arrived, we would discuss the menu over WhatsApp. Crucially, the dishes had to be easy to freeze and easy to reheat.

I would then shop for the ingredients she needed, which meant a combination of online grocery shopping and trips to Chinatown for less-common items.

On her visit, she would cook large portions of three dishes, which she further subdivided into another three family-sized portions. In total, we had around nine portions, which were then packed into containers and frozen — like a supermarket-ready meal, but tastier and probably healthier.

The meals she cooked were Malaysian Nyonya or Chinese-Malaysian dishes: ayam tempra (chicken dish), chai boey (a delicious sour and spicy stew with leftover roast meat), babi pongteh (a braised pork dish), and chicken with ginger and spring onion.

The 4-year arrangement had both expected and unexpected benefits

As a result of Evelyn's visits, we did not spend precious hours batch cooking on the weekends. We could spend our limited free time with our children.

Although her meals did not completely replace the need for us to cook, the constant everyday drudgery of preparing food was partially mitigated. On weekdays, after a long day of work calls, I would grab a container out of the fridge and pair it with plain white rice.

And the biggest unexpected benefit was that she taught us more of my culture. Though I'm Chinese-Malaysian, I was never taught how to cook growing up. When I started living independently, my cooking repertoire did not extend much beyond pasta, curry chicken, and whatever I could learn from YouTube videos.

Nothing compares to being shown what to cook and how to do it by a more experienced person. It was a learning experience for me to hunt for the ingredients that Evelyn had asked for in the local Chinese grocery store. On one of my trips, I had gotten a vegetable that I believed to be kai choy (Chinese mustard green), only to be told by Evelyn that it was choy sum (Chinese flowering cabbage).

By watching her, I also learned about different types of tofu and which work best for various dishes, plus how to get a good sear on meat (very high heat and a willingness to tolerate oil splatter).

Evelyn continued to come to our place every month or so until we left London about four years later. We did not restart an arrangement like this in our new place, as the kids were older and our jobs were more flexible.

I am a firm believer that you have to make your own village in this modern world, especially for those of us who have found careers far away from our families of origin. So I am forever grateful to Evelyn for her help in the intense years with babies and young children.

We had been looking for a "batch-cooking service," but instead we got a stand-in "aunty."

• I used to work as a flight attendant, and I prefer passengers keep the shades closed during flights.
• Passengers are typically calmer and sleepier when the cabin is dark, which worked well for us.
• Shades should only be open during takeoff and landing, which is the best time for photos anyway.

There's a long-standing, quiet battle happening in airplane cabins around the world, and it's all about window shades.

Who actually owns control of the shade — the person sitting in the window seat, the cabin crew, or the row as a collective? (Opinions remain fairly divided.) Is it better for the shade to stay open or closed throughout the flight?

Between viral social media debates and endless discussions on flight etiquette, everyone seems to have an opinion, and so do I. For nearly a decade, I worked as a flight attendant with an international airline.

That means I've examined thousands of window shades before takeoff and landing to ensure they were open, just as I checked seatbacks were upright.

Many airlines require the shades to be open during these times, which makes sense to me from a safety standpoint. It's helpful to have a clear view outside in an emergency, and in case ground rescue teams need to see inside the plane.

However, once we hit cruising altitude, those safety rules pause, and my personal one kicks in: The window shades should be closed while we're in the air.

I've found that open shades can ruin sleep cycles and make a cabin rowdier

I honestly hate it when passengers keep their shades wide open, and it's especially bad on long, international flights. I know firsthand how crossing multiple time zones can be exhausting for the body.

Often, the best way to save passengers from severe jet lag is to help them get quality sleep in the air — and let's be honest, as a flight attendant, I definitely had a vested interest in keeping everyone happy and well-rested.

So, on long flights, my crew and I would intentionally dim the cabin lights to simulate nighttime and encourage everyone to rest. Even so, it only took one open window shade to ruin that peaceful environment for an entire section of the plane.

When blinding sunlight poured in, it didn't just wake sleeping passengers — it also created a terrible glare on laptops, tablets, and phones.

I've lost track of how many frustrated passengers rang their call buttons to complain to me about it, and how often I ended up having to mediate arguments about window shades.

Early on in my career, I also observed how ambient light seemed to directly change passenger behavior. Whenever we dimmed the cabin lights, travelers seemed to naturally settle down, read quietly, or go to sleep.

But when a flight stayed brightly lit, passengers more often stayed awake, chatted loudly, and ordered more alcohol, sometimes turning the flight into a party.

All in all, keeping the cabin dark tended to make the entire flight so much calmer, safer, and easier for us to manage. As my colleagues and I always used to say: A sleeping passenger is the best passenger!

If you're looking for good views and photos, you're better off waiting anyway

One of the most common reason passengers give for keeping their shades up is to take photos or enjoy the view. Although I completely understand the desire for a great aerial shot, the reality at 35,000 feet is usually underwhelming.

Most of the time, all you can see out the window is blinding white haze, cloud cover, or vast emptiness. The direct sunlight at high altitudes is often too harsh for a clean picture anyway.

If you really want great photos for your travel feed, the best time to take them is during descent and approach.

As the plane lowers toward the destination, you can actually get a clear, detailed view of cities, coastlines, and landscapes — and during those moments, the shades are already usually required to be open for safety reasons anyway.

Ultimately, though, the status of the shade is up to the passenger

Unlike takeoff and landing, where keeping shades open is often a mandatory safety rule, mid-flight shade policy is more about etiquette.

As flight attendants, we couldn't strictly enforce or mandate that passengers close them, as window-shade status isn't regulated by the Federal Aviation Administration.

However, many of us made a point of strongly requesting and encouraging the shades to be shut for the comfort of the whole cabin.

Now, whenever I'm sitting in the window seat as a passenger, I practice what I preach. The shade stays wide open for takeoff, goes straight down as soon as we hit cruising altitude, and pops back up on our final approach.

Pulling that shade down mid-flight is a tiny move, but it makes a world of difference. It can help keep the cabin dark and calm, let your fellow passengers sleep, and prevent a full-blown glare dispute at 35,000 feet.

• Despite having a lot of friends in college, I felt like I was surrounded by strangers.
• After a careful analysis, I discovered meaningful connections fulfilled me more than casual ones.
• I stopped spreading myself too thin and have since focused my time on a smaller circle of friends.

My 21st birthday party was packed with a dozen faces I half-knew. They all smiled as I blew out the candles and made a wish, yet I felt as if I were surrounded by strangers.

As I looked out into the crowd, I realized that most of my friendships were surface-level, rather than genuine connections. We talked about upcoming school assignments, trending TV shows, and our favorite restaurants, but I wanted more.

What was supposed to be a celebration turned into a rude awakening: Did these people even know me at all?

I've always been someone with many hobbies, which meant making friends across all walks of life. Although I'm lucky to have so many people in my corner, there came a point where it felt like I was collecting friendships like tokens rather than forming meaningful relationships.

The realization set in: I had tons of friends, but somehow, I was lonely.

I needed to learn how to distinguish casual friendships from meaningful ones

Even years after graduating from college, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd been collecting the wrong type of friendships.

I realized many of my relationships had been rooted in transactions or shared activities, which may explain why I was still feeling lonely.

Upon reflection, I noticed that the most genuine friendships I had involved some emotional depth and connection. I only have two of these in my life — one who lives close by, and another who is across the country.

Regardless of where they are, the empathy goes both ways — I share in their joys and sit with them through their struggles, and they do the same for me. We're not just shoulders for each other to cry on, but supportive pillars who help each other walk through life.

These were the friendships that fulfilled me most, and I needed to make more room in my life for them.

In order to do this, I needed to figure out what was holding me back. I came to the conclusion that, when it comes to friends, I'd kept many people at a distance, afraid that opening up would make me seem like "too much" or leave me hurt again.

I'd also been spreading myself too thin, trying to maintain too many relationships instead of investing in the ones that mattered most. For example, I felt like I rushed through dinners to mentally check a box that I was keeping up the relationship. Not only was that a waste of time, but it led to major emotional burnout.

Now, I focus on a handful of friends with whom I can build a deeper bond. Even though I only have time to see a select few people, I make sure the few hours we spend together are packed with thoughtful, not superficial, conversations.

Recently, I spent some time with a work colleague outside the office, and we discussed how fitness helped us during difficult points in our lives. We connected on something beyond our jobs, and for the first time in a long time, I felt less lonely.

Once I stopped chasing a bigger circle and was more vulnerable, I felt less alone

At first, it was difficult to let go of my larger circle. There's nothing wrong with casual friendships, but they couldn't give me the depth I was craving.

Instead, the friends I need are the ones who will hold me up at my worst and cheer me on at my best without expecting anything in return — and I never think twice about doing the same for them. These connections take more time and care to develop, but are well worth the wait.

Once I started watering the friendships I truly valued, I noticed our moments together aren't rushed, and our connection is stronger now because of the care we put into each conversation.

This year, I'm thinking about having a birthday dinner with two or three close friends rather than a larger celebration. Ironically, when I began filtering superficial relationships out of my life, I felt less lonely — and that's all I could have ever wished for.

• Living abroad with only what fits in a carry-on has changed my definition of "enough."
• I no longer buy "just in case" stuff that rarely gets used, and I've found joy in a simple wardrobe.
• Ironically, the more I appreciate the things we own, the less attached I've become to them.

I'll admit it: I love shopping and the thrill of getting something new.

But ever since my husband and I started doing extended stays in Paris and other cities throughout Europe, I've surprised myself with how little I actually need.

We never check luggage because it's such a hassle, so whenever we get home after living out of carry-on suitcases for three months, I'll look around our apartment, open my closet, and think, "Wow, I forgot about most of this stuff."

Even though I'm a lifelong declutterer and keep our space tidy and organized, I've come to realize that getting by with only what fits in a carry-on has changed my definition of "enough."

Having fewer clothes makes getting dressed easier

It's kind of ironic that going to Paris, the fashion capital of the world, is where I've ended up with the smallest wardrobe. But as it turns out, having fewer options saves me a lot of mental energy and has made me more creative and intentional about what I wear.

I pack versatile pieces that work together so I can mix and match, rewear the same few pairs of pants, and do laundry every week. Even winter trips, when I have to pack bulkier clothes, have proven that I can get by with much less than I ever thought possible.

I have dozens of sweaters at home since I'm a bit of a collector, but all I really need are just a few Quince cashmere fisherman turtlenecks.

I also love jewelry, hats, and sunglasses, and usually have multiple options based on my mood. But being away for months at a time has made me realize that I'm perfectly fine with having just a few accessories to rotate through.

Whenever I get back from one of our trips, I end up editing my closet because I realize there's so much I don't wear. Yes, it's nice to have all my clothes and accessories, but it also gets easier each time to give stuff away to friends, family, neighbors, or donation centers.

I've stopped buying so many 'just in case' items

It's easy to imagine all sorts of scenarios where I might need certain things, especially when traveling. (Should I pack a pair of heels in case we go to an ultra-fancy dinner? Or what if I suddenly need that scarf I haven't worn in five years?)

News flash: I've never needed something I didn't pack. It's a lesson that has made me less likely to shop on impulse.

I still love going on a T.J. Maxx run and filling up a cart while browsing my favorite sites. However, before I make a purchase, I ask myself if it's something I'll genuinely use or just something that I might hypothetically need one day.

If it doesn't pass the reality check, I don't buy it.

I'm much more thoughtful about what I bring into our apartment

Because we're on the move so much, being at home feels even more comforting. I love that our space is decorated with objects that spark joy, but over the last few years, I've become less interested in accumulating stuff.

Instead, I find myself appreciating what we already have — from our shelves full of books and framed photos of our family and travels to my houseplants that our wonderful neighbors take care of while we're away.

Funnily enough, though, the more I appreciate the things we own, the less attached I've become to most of them. I don't even feel much of an urge to buy things for our apartment because I know we'll be leaving again soon.

Having more options doesn't necessarily make life better

Whether it's my wardrobe, household items, or even food, I've realized I don't need endless options. Like, do I really need 12 types of tea in my cupboard at any given moment? Often, I'm fine with just a few bags of my go-to blends.

Traveling with just a carry-on has made me realize that day to day, I tend to stick to my core favorites and don't really need a million choices for everything. I get plenty of variety when I'm out exploring.

At home, I'm happy to keep things simple and enjoy what I already have. That's more than enough for me.

• I'm a mom of three and a dietitian who often works with busy parents who are trying to lose weight.
• Meals like quesadillas and Cobb salads can easily be made more nutritious or kid-friendly.
• Burrito bowls and dishes made with protein-rich pasta can be customized for parents and children.

As a registered dietitian who helps busy parents lose weight — and as a mom of three myself — I know the struggle of trying to make just one dinner that works for everyone at the table.

In many cases, kids want something fun and familiar, while parents aim for somewhat nutritious meals that support their weight-loss goals.

Fortunately, you don't have to cook a bunch of separate dinners or settle for "kid food."

Here are eight family-friendly meals I swear by that allow for simple swaps and add-ons to make them lighter, more nutrient-dense, and better for balancing blood sugar.

Build-your-own burrito bowls are easy to customize.

This works well as a buffet-style dinner option where everyone can fill their plate to fit their food preferences.

Start with pulled rotisserie chicken as the main lean protein, and add side dishes of black beans and brown rice for fiber-rich carbohydrates.

Chopped lettuce, salsa, and avocado are great additions for more flavor and nutrients. Kids may prefer having tortillas available to make their own burritos.

Use one pack of buns for two different sausages.

Fire up the grill, and while the kids enjoy hot dogs, swap yours for a leaner chicken sausage. They're typically higher in protein and lower in fat, making them a better fit for weight management.

Load yours with gut-friendly toppings like sauerkraut and grilled onions, and pair it with a side of slaw or grilled veggies and antioxidant-rich berries.

This way, you can have a balanced dish while your kids enjoy a classic.

While the kids eat chicken strips, turn a few into a hearty Cobb salad.

The best meals for weight loss tend to be high in protein and contain a lot of bulky veggies or fruits. So, make a few extra chicken strips for yourself and use them as a protein source in a satisfying Cobb salad.

Add chopped chicken strips to romaine lettuce, tomato, bacon bits, sliced boiled egg, and a sprinkle of blue-cheese crumbles. Pair the salad with a light portion of dressing.

A Cobb salad is great because egg, bacon, and chicken can add enough protein to the meal to help keep you satisfied. Meanwhile, produce like romaine and tomatoes adds nutrients, bulk, and variety to the meal without making it high in calories.

Quesadillas can be simple and kid-approved or more nutritious for health-conscious adults.

It's easy to customize cheese quesadillas to be as simple or as intricate as you and your kids prefer.

To upgrade your own, add lean ground beef or ground turkey (protein), nonfat refried beans (fiber), and roasted peppers or onions (vitamins, minerals, and antioxidants).

The protein and fiber combo in this meal can help you feel full faster and longer, helping avoid the urge for late-night snacks.

As a bonus, serve everyone a side of cucumber or jicama slices for an extra dose of fruit or veggies that provide a crunchy, fiber-rich addition.

Use common taco ingredients to make a satisfying salad.

Tacos are a weekly staple in our house. The kids love theirs with ground beef or turkey, topped with shredded cheese, all stuffed inside a crispy taco shell.

Fortunately, it's easy to transform these sorts of ingredients into a hearty, protein-rich, nutrient-dense taco salad.

Start by filling a bowl with chopped romaine, cherry tomatoes, black beans, salsa, avocado, and lean ground turkey or beef. Sprinkle a crumbled taco shell on top for crunch, then add a little dressing if desired.

This way, you can enjoy the same taco flavors, just way more veggies and fewer carbs to help you stick to your daily calorie goals.

Better-for-you ramen can be served two ways.

A basic ramen recipe can be upgraded with lean protein, such as diced chicken and a hard-boiled egg, and leafy greens, like spinach or bok choy.

Aim to fill one side of your bowl with protein and vegetables, reserving the noodles and broth for the other half.

If your kids are a little picky, just serve components of the dish separately and adjust the ingredients you use. Serve noodles with some of their favorite fruit, so they can pick and choose what they like.

Pizza can work for everyone.

With some adjustments, pizza night can still be great for parents trying to manage their weight.

First off, using a cauliflower crust is a great way to reduce the carb count of a typical pizza dinner while adding more vegetables.

More veggies means more fiber for gut health and extra nutrients that help support your metabolism and overall health.

I also like to serve a salad or raw veggies on the side to help me fill up on lower-calorie foods, so I can stick to smaller portions of pizza while still feeling satisfied.

Be sure to also add protein to your pizza to create a more balanced meal. Chicken is a great lean option, but I also understand if you're more of a sausage or pepperoni fan.

Pasta doesn't have to derail your weight loss efforts.

There are several ways to enjoy pasta regularly without disrupting weight-loss efforts.

First, swap out your noodles. Regular pasta is high in carbohydrates, which can spike blood sugar when eaten in large portions or without being balanced by protein and fiber.

Instead, use noodles made from lentils or chickpeas. They contain more fiber and protein, slowing how quickly carbohydrates are absorbed and helping keep blood sugar steadier — which can help with weight management.

Once the noodles are coated in sauce, your kids may not even notice you've made the swap.

Skip high-fat, calorie-laden cream sauces and top your pasta with marinara, which is naturally low in calories. Top with prepackaged frozen meatballs for an easy protein boost.

Don't forget to mix spinach or roasted broccoli into your dish for extra fiber. For pickier eaters, you may want to serve it on the side.

This story was originally published on November 3, 2025, and most recently updated on October 20, 2026.

• At 55, I thought I would have already figured out where I want to retire in the next few years.
• Instead, I've been living out of suitcases and housesitting in different places to see what I like.
• I still don't know where I will retire, but I do have a much better idea of what I want — and don't.

I always thought I'd be settled somewhere for good by age 55, with a comfortable home, established garden, and chest freezer in the garage.

But after growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area, raising my kids in Seattle, and becoming an empty nester, I realized I had no idea where I wanted to settle down.

For the first time in more than 20 years, I suddenly had the freedom to choose where I wanted to live.

So at 52, I started housesitting in exchange for places to stay so I could travel without depleting my savings. I quickly realized how much I enjoyed the nomadic lifestyle and how this gave me the opportunity to test out places I might eventually want to live in.

After a few months, I liked it so much that I gave away almost everything I owned, put the rest in storage, and decided to do it full-time.

That was almost three years ago. Since then, I've lived in dozens of cities, towns, and remote islands, from northern Washington to the southeastern coast of Mexico's Baja California peninsula.

Housesitting has changed my mind about what I thought I wanted

I typically stay in each home for two weeks to three months at a time, which allows me to get to know a new place without signing a lease, buying a house, or committing to a community.

Instead, I chat with locals, visit the library and grocery store, explore nearby nature trails, and try to imagine what it would be like to live there.

I ask myself a lot of questions: Can I tolerate this climate? Do I feel able to connect with this community? Could I live without whatever thing this place might be missing … which is sometimes as simple as my beloved Trader Joe's?

Throughout my stays, I've learned new things about myself and what I really want.

For example, I'd long pictured myself settling in a city since I've spent most of my life in major metropolitan areas.

So, I was thrilled to book a housesitting job right across the street from my old high school in San Francisco. I couldn't wait to walk the same streets I did in my youth and revisit my old haunts.

But the nostalgia wore off quickly, and a $105 street-cleaning ticket reminded me of the hassles of city life. I realized that a noisy, crowded, expensive city isn't where I want to settle after all.

These days, less traffic, more green space, and a slower pace feel more like my style.

After that stint in the city, I went to the other extreme and booked a multi-week housesit on a remote Pacific Northwest island where the closest grocery store was a ferry ride away — long enough to require ice packs and a cooler to get my frozen food home before it defrosted.

At first, I couldn't imagine staying there for more than a few weeks, but I quickly fell in love with the solitude and have returned several times.

I realized that being surrounded by water, going days without talking to another person, hearing owls hoot at night, and watching a mother deer and her fawn wander across the yard made the extra effort of island life worthwhile.

I was willing to plan errands around the ferry schedule and give up some of the conveniences I'd always taken for granted for that kind of peace.

Turns out, I'm more open to living in a remote place than I expected.

Now, I'm rethinking what it means to settle down — and if I'd even stay in the US

I'd also never even considered moving abroad until I booked a five-week housesitting gig for an American woman who had retired in La Paz, Mexico.

I felt inspired by my client's willingness to give up familiar comforts and conveniences to risk starting over in a new country in search of the life she wanted.

Although I'm not sure Mexico is where I want to settle, I loved my time in the Sonoran Desert and haven't ruled out retiring outside of the US. This experience helped me learn what living abroad was really like and realize I'm more capable of making that jump than I ever imagined if it's what I ultimately choose.

After trying out more than 50 locations in three years, I still don't know where I eventually want to retire. But I know I want to be somewhere I can walk in nature, enjoy some solitude without feeling isolated, and engage with a community when I'm ready for company.

Above all, I'm searching for a place that makes me feel at home — even when I'm visiting for the first time.

• I moved to the US from South Korea when I was five, but I've traveled back almost every year since.
• The country is so much more than just Seoul, its popular capital city.
• Some of my favorite lesser-known South Korean cities are Suwon, Incheon, and Gyeongju.

I was born in South Korea and moved to the United States when I was 5 years old. I've traveled back almost every year since.

Usually, when people ask me for South Korean travel recommendations, what they really want are ideas for things to do in Seoul.

I can understand why tourists flock to the capital city of South Korea: Seoul has culture, technology, tons of entertainment, and amazing fashion and cuisine.

However, if you ask me, you're missing out if you don't visit some of the other, lesser-known cities that contribute to South Korea's heartbeat.

Here are four of my favorite cities to visit in South Korea that aren't Seoul.

I always go the distance for Busan

About four hours south of Seoul lies Busan. Growing up, my family visited this city over the summer to swim, soak up the sun, and eat incredibly fresh seafood.

You don't have to treat Busan exclusively as a warm-weather getaway, though: My favorite time to visit Busan is actually in the fall, when the days are sunny and the nights are breezy with sea-salt air.

My favorite destination in Busan is Gamcheon Culture Village, a steep slope dotted with hundreds of colorfully painted homes.

During the Korean War, refugees first settled in this area. Later, Gamcheon was restored and enhanced with brightly colored exterior paint to attract tourism.

Today, Gamcheon Village stands as a beloved landmark in Busan, where visitors can get lost in the twisted alleyways and enjoy stunning views overlooking the hilly scenery.

I also strongly recommend that anyone who visits Busan dedicate one morning to waking up early and watching the sunrise over Haeundae Beach.

In my opinion, the view alone can wash away any negative feelings, even for a brief moment.

When you're in Busan, don't forget to check out the Jagalchi Market for excellent fish and the Nampo-dong Food Alley for the best street food.

Suwon is a chill day trip from Seoul

If you want to stay in Seoul for most of your trip but crave an easy day trip with a laid-back vibe, Suwon is your answer. Whenever I take the hour-and-a-half-long bus trip, excitement brews in my stomach.

The main attraction of this very chill city is the Hwaseong Fortress, a towering stone-and-brick fortress that passes through the center of Suwon. It was built in the 18th century to protect the city, and in 1997, it was designated a UNESCO World Heritage site.

I love to walk the length of the fortress — because of the lack of high-rise buildings, it's an excellent way to take in the city's scenery, which includes a mix of traditional houses, cozy little cottages, and low-rise industrial buildings.

Running along the length of the historical site, the city has many unassuming, cute cafés where you can get delicious coffee drinks and desserts.

It's nice to sit down outside one of them and lose track of time, soaking up the beautiful street art that paints the alleyways of Suwon.

Gyeongju is rich with history

Once the capital of the ancient Silla Kingdom, Gyeongju is filled with landmarks that bring the country's deep history to life.

From the grand Bulguksa Temple and the mystical Seokguram Grotto to the ancient royal tombs scattered throughout Tumuli Park, the city offers a rare glimpse into Korea's royal past and Buddhist origins.

Strolling through Gyeongju, especially in the later hours of the day, immerses you in a peaceful blend of quiet ponds and lantern-lit walkways.

You can't leave Gyeongju without trying Hwangnam-ppang, a small soft pastry filled with sweet red-bean filling. This treat is a local specialty of Gyeongju — so much so that locals and visitors refer to it as Gyeongju bread.

You can find this treat at various food shops and vendors throughout the city.

Incheon is more than just an airport hub

Anyone who flies into South Korea will instantly recognize Incheon, at least by name. It is home to the country's largest international airport.

Long before the airport's creation in 2001, though, there was the Incheon port through which goods from China arrived and were sold.

The port also paved the way for the establishment of Incheon's Chinatown, where the blend of Chinese and Korean flavors endures in the neighborhood's small slew of standout restaurants.

I recommend taking a walk through the streets and alleyways of the neighborhood while munching on street food. I'm personally partial to the giant fried dumplings and tanghulu, or skewers of sugar-coated fruit, that I've enjoyed there.

If you have a chance, enjoy a sit-down meal of jjajangmyeon, a Chinese-Korean black bean noodle dish, and soak up some of the bustling area's history and culture.

This story was originally published on December 24, 2025, and most recently updated on October 19, 2026.

• This summer, I took a four-day Amtrak trip with my spouse, and worked remotely the entire journey.
• I loved working in the café car while taking in views of the Mississippi River and the Great Plains.
• Even though the internet wasn't reliable, it was a great experience that I can't wait to do again.

This summer, my spouse and I decided to take the longest Amtrak trip we've ever taken — three trains from Washington, DC, to Vancouver over four days.

My partner, who is a teacher, had a break between the school year and the summer program, so this adventure was the perfect excuse to relax, disconnect from the world, and enjoy the train's views. That was, unfortunately, not the case for me.

Since I have an office job with limited vacation time, I decided I would work remotely throughout the entire trip. Even though I had my boss's permission to work on the train and had packed all my essentials, I still wondered how successful this endeavor would be.

Turns out, it was more challenging than I anticipated, but still worth the hassle.

I made sure to prepare for any WiFi outages and pack accordingly.

Before the trip, I researched whether the trains would have WiFi, but found that it could vary by route.

Since I wasn't sure how reliable my internet options would be on board, I made sure to download the most important documents onto my computer instead of just relying on the cloud. This way, even if there was an unstable connection, I'd still be able to access them.

Additionally, I made sure to have my phone's hotspot at the ready for whenever there wasn't WiFi on the train.

And just as an extra precaution, I made a point of scheduling any important calls for either before or after our train rides, so that I wouldn't risk losing signal while speaking with my team.

To prevent any other hiccups, I packed everything I could think of that I might need: my work laptop, my portable monitor, all the appropriate cords and chargers, and my planner for anything I needed to do on paper.

The roomette's privacy was great, but it didn't have enough outlets.

On two of our three train rides, we booked a roomette, a small bedroom with two seats facing each other that would convert into bunks at night.

The internet was spotty in there, but I was still able to wrap up the last emails of the day without any problems.

On the first train ride from DC to Chicago, the roomette had two power outlets, but on our journey from Chicago to Seattle, it had only one — forcing my spouse and me to take turns charging our devices.

I loved working in the café car.

Sometimes, the roomette felt pretty cramped, so I took my work setup to the café car as often as I could.

Not only was there plenty of room for me to spread out with my laptop and second screen, but I could also witness amazing views — like the Mississippi River or the Great Plains — from the window.

However, since there weren't any power outlets in the café car, I was only able to be productive for as long as my computer and phone batteries lasted, which was about 2 hours. Then, once everything had run out of power, I had to return to the roomette and plug everything in, which disrupted my workflow.

I didn't think about how my hotspot wouldn't be reliable in rural areas.

Since there was only stable WiFi on one of our three trains, I was relying heavily on my hotspot for most of the trip. But by the third day, the cellular signal kept getting spotty as we entered more rural areas of the country, making my hotspot less reliable.

Because of the weak connection, I couldn't access my team's folders, so I had to email my boss a report instead of uploading it to SharePoint.

I panicked a little, since we're not supposed to save documents directly to our computers, but this was my only option without a consistent signal.

When we sat in coach, I could barely get any work done.

For the last leg of our trip from Seattle to Vancouver, we sat in coach instead of reserving a roomette.

We were able to sit at a small table, but it was too cramped to take out my laptop, and there wasn't any space to work in my seat either. This was the only portion of the trip where it was impossible to do any work, and it really made me miss my roomette.

Even though working on the train was challenging, the station lounges were perfect.

Whenever we had train delays, I would work at the Amtrak stations, which were great places to be productive.

The station in DC had a place to stash our suitcases, decent WiFi, and various tables and chairs. The one in Chicago was also a great size, was well-lit, and had a strong internet connection and plenty of seating.

Similarly, the upper level of the Amtrak station in Seattle had a small art gallery and sitting area — a perfectly comfortable space for me to do my job.

It wasn't the easiest way to work, but I'd do it again.

Although working on these trains wasn't always smooth, I still had a great experience and would definitely love to do it again.

Next time, though, I would pack a power bank to charge my phone and monitor without needing an outlet, and overprepare for a lack of WiFi.

Overall, even though working remotely on Amtrak trains had its challenges, I loved the stunning views and the chance to see new sights rather than just sitting at my desk.

Business Insider reached out to Amtrak for comment.

• I enjoyed living in a small, one-bedroom apartment with my family of three for years.
• Once we moved to a house more than triple the size, I totally changed my minimalist mindset.
• Now that we live in a bigger space, I can't imagine going back to living small or minimally.

When my husband and I bought our apartment in Kyiv back in 2017, we were thrilled to finally have a family nest of our own.

It was a cozy, 500-square-foot place with one bedroom, and we meticulously planned to optimize every inch of it. Our kitchen table doubled as my workspace, and our living room couch became the guest bed whenever family stayed over.

Hosting required pure creative problem-solving and, with limited seating around our small table, I'd sometimes feed guests in shifts. It was chaotic at times, but I didn't mind.

After our son was born, bright plastic toys, endless boxes of diapers, and bulky baby gear started claiming every free corner of our apartment. With the three of us packed into a single bedroom, finding space was a daily puzzle, but we made it work.

Surprisingly, living so close together didn't feel limited back then — it felt intimate, cozy, and deeply fulfilling. Then COVID-19 hit.

Spending so much time indoors made me feel isolated, and for the first time, I began dreaming about more living space. But we barely had time to figure things out before life took a drastic turn: When the war in Ukraine escalated in 2022, we made the heavy, life-changing decision to relocate to Canada.

A few months after moving, we began renting a two-bedroom house, where we currently reside. At 1,700 square feet, it wasn't considered especially large by local standards, but to us, it felt vast.

It didn't take long to adjust to having more space — and to quickly fill it up

At first, our house seemed almost too large for just three people.

For the first time, we had two bedrooms and a basement, which instantly doubled our usable space at a ground level.

After years of apartment living, though, the sheer thought of having so much space to keep clean felt exhausting. However, it didn't take long to change my mind.

It turns out that when both you and your belongings finally have room to breathe — and you've got a trusty robot vacuum doing the heavy lifting — life shines in completely different colors.

It's also been wonderful to have more room to host, from a dedicated guest space (in the basement) to a table big enough to actually seat larger groups.

In time, we began to pick up local habits and traditions, too. Many of our neighbors in Canada decorate for different holidays, so we started joining in.

And of course, seasonal decor needs a place to be stored when it's not in use — and since we now had a full basement, I didn't feel super limited with what I could buy.

A lot of neighbors also had an extra stand-alone freezer in their homes. It seemed ridiculous for our family of three to also get one … until my first Costco run.

I caved when I realized I needed a place for all those bulk-sized boxes of frozen food. In our bigger home, large grocery hauls began feeling normal.

Gradually, I felt a shift in my identity: I was no longer the strict minimalist I used to be.

In Kyiv, whenever my husband wanted a new kitchen gadget or a giant toy truck for our son, I was firm about saying no. We simply didn't have room for "extra." I took pride in keeping our home completely clutter-free.

But between the extra space and North American convenience, I'd completely changed my minimalist rules. Now, saying "yes" to big additions — like the bulky food dehydrator I'd been eyeing for drying fruits and vegetables, or the roomy couch we'd dreamed of for years — felt easy.

I didn't need to worry about where something would be stored or if it'd take up too much space: We finally had the room to bring those dreams home.

Ultimately, my family and I have thrived with more room to breathe

Over time, I realized this shift was much deeper than just being able to shop more and store more stuff. In a bigger space, our family had room to breathe and grow.

In Kyiv, our whole routine and my minimalist mindset felt shaped by how tight everything felt, but here, the extra room opened up a whole new chapter.

I've become more outgoing, more relaxed, and genuinely excited to gather people together. Our home has turned into a place for hosting friends, cooking weekend dinners, and laughing over backyard barbecues.

Living small was a beautiful, intimate part of my life that I will always hold close to my heart. It taught me intentionality and gratitude.

However, creating space to thrive, host, and watch my family grow has completely transformed my definition of home — now, going back to 500 square feet no longer feels like an option.

• As a Colorado local, I love bringing first-time visitors to the state to Golden instead of Denver.
• It's a short drive from downtown Denver with beautiful mountain views and a walkable downtown.
• There are great places to eat alongside mountain views, hike, and enjoy the scenery in Golden.

I've lived in Colorado for over a decade. If I had just a single day to show someone what I love about the state, I wouldn't take them to our capital city, Denver.

Instead, I'd bring them to the much smaller city of Golden.

Golden gives has a little bit of everything for visitors: mountains and hiking trails, a creek running through town, a historic downtown made for wandering on foot, and plenty of places to eat and drink.

It's located just about 15 miles west of downtown Denver, or about a 25-minute drive, and typically less than an hour's drive from the Denver International Airport.

Here's why I love bringing out-of-towners to Golden — and where I'd take them when they visited.

I'd start the morning with coffee at a family-owned shop.

Golden has several coffee shops, but I'd start my perfect day here at Sogo Beans and Boards.

The family-owned coffee and skate shop is just minutes from downtown. I love that Sogo air-roasts its fair-trade coffee and makes its own syrups and pastries.

Its plant-filled room, free Wi-Fi, and garden patio make it easy to linger over a latte, and it's the kind of independent shop that makes a morning feel unhurried.

We'd spend lots of time outside, which is easy to do in Golden

The city makes it easy to go from a coffee shop to a trail without a long drive.

For a leisurely morning, I'd rent an e-bike and follow the paved Clear Creek Trail, which winds alongside the water through parks and greenery.

For more of a workout, I'd hike North Table Mountain, where the initial climb stings but rewards you with sweeping views of the city and surrounding mesas.

In warmer months, tubing on Clear Creek is another way to take in the town's outdoor culture and scenic views.

If I had more time, I'd take the short drive from town to visit Golden Gate Canyon State Park, a beautiful place to enjoy aspen groves and mountain scenery. Come winter, the same park is a serene place to snowshoe through snow-covered trails.

The Golden Mill is my go-to for lunch

After working up an appetite, I'd head to The Golden Mill, a food hall and community gathering space along Clear Creek.

It offers several food concepts — from sushi and tacos to fried chicken, barbecue, and New Zealand-style ice cream — which means a group with different tastes can all leave happy. More than 50 self-pour taps offer beer, wine, cider, and more.

The best part is the setting. Large creekside and rooftop patios have mountain views, which makes it an ideal spot to settle in after a morning outside.

My sister and I recently spent a morning there for rooftop yoga led by a local teacher, then walked around town afterward before returning for lunch.

It was peaceful, and it reinforced what makes the place work: It feels less like a traditional restaurant and more like somewhere you can spend a few hours eating, drinking, and watching Golden go by.

The yoga is a summer series that typically returns in May, and the event lineup rotates with the seasons. Past offerings have included rooftop barre and Keg Conditioning, a workout that uses empty kegs as equipment.

Downtown is made for wandering

Washington Avenue is lined with locally owned boutiques, galleries, and Western outfitters, and a seasonal Saturday farmers market adds to the scene.

Kayakers can play at Clear Creek Whitewater Park and beer fans can tour the Coors Brewery. Coors began brewing beside the creek in 1873.

One year later, the Colorado School of Mines was established nearby. It's part of an industrial past you can still sense as you walk.

I'd leave some of the afternoon unscheduled, too. Part of Golden's appeal is simply walking along the creek, looking up at the foothills, and stopping wherever something catches your attention.

Golden is proof that the best trips aren't always the flashiest

All of the above is ultimately why I'd choose Golden for someone's first taste of Colorado.

Denver has plenty to offer, but Golden gives you a concentrated version of the state I'd want to share with a first-time visitor: mountain views without a long mountainous drive; outdoor adventure alongside a walkable downtown; and enough food, beer, and local character to fill the day.

Sometimes it's not the most extravagant destinations that create the most meaningful memories. Some of my favorites in Golden have been the simplest, like that quiet morning with my sister.

After more than a decade here, that combination of ease and charm still feels like Colorado to me.

• We asked interior designer Lane Mari to share which design trends she'd never have in her kitchen.
• The designer said she stays away from cheap appliances and synthetic materials.
• She also avoids black hardware and harsh overhead lighting in favor of warmer materials and shades.

The kitchen is often one of the most-used spaces in a home, whether you're cooking for family or hosting friends.

With so much time spent there, the design choices you make can have a big impact on how the space looks and feels.

To help you avoid any kitchen-design missteps, Business Insider asked Lane Mari, an interior designer with experience in both design and construction, what she'd never have in her own kitchen and what she recommends instead.

Here's what she had to say.

Black hardware can stand out too much.

When it comes to kitchen-cabinet pulls, Mari is skipping black hardware.

"It's too harsh and creates too much contrast on a white or light cabinet," Mari told BI.

If she wants something dark, she'll usually go for oil-rubbed bronze hardware instead. Its warm undertones can help make it look more balanced in a space.

Not all kitchens need an island.

Though kitchen islands are popular, they don't work in every space — especially not in smaller or awkwardly arranged ones.

"It never looks good to have something crammed in that doesn't really fit," she told BI.

Before committing to an island, Mari recommends consulting with a designer to get its scale just right. In some cases, you might realize a traditional option isn't the right fit.

If that's the case, she said, you can try having a more open piece of furniture custom-made to better suit the space.

Leaving a small gap above kitchen cabinets can look unintentional.

Mari said she often sees cabinets that stop 2 to 3 inches below the ceiling, but it's not her preference. In many cases, it can look like a design mistake.

"If you have shorter ceilings, like 9 feet and under, you definitely want the cabinets going to the ceiling," Mari told BI. "That's going to make the ceiling look taller."

For taller ceilings, she said, cabinets can look best if they intentionally stop farther below the ceiling rather than leaving just a few inches of space.

You won't find an all-black-and-white kitchen in her home.

The designer loves color and incorporates it into her kitchen designs rather than sticking to a black-and-white palette.

Mari recognizes how challenging and overwhelming it can be to choose colors to incorporate into a home, but she has a few tips.

"The best place to get color inspo is from your own closet in the clothes that you wear," she said. Clothes that look good on you can look great in your house — and make you look good in your home, too, she said.

If your closet doesn't offer much inspiration, Mari suggests looking to favorite vacation spots or outdoor spaces instead. Though she gravitates toward natural colors, she said the shades you choose should ultimately make you feel most at ease in your home.

She skips synthetic materials in favor of natural ones that develop character over time.

When choosing materials for a kitchen, Mari opts for stone and wood over synthetic alternatives.

"Natural materials, although they might be a little bit more sensitive, wear better," Mari told BI.

She added that these surfaces can develop a patina over time, giving them more character as they age. On the other hand, manufactured materials don't tend to wear in the same way.

Countertops aren't an area where she'd skimp.

For this designer, high-quality countertops are worth investing in.

"If you're going for an elevated and high-end look in the kitchen, I suggest choosing the nicest natural stone that you can afford," she told BI.

Quartzite is one of her favorites for its strength and durability, and she also likes marble. She suggests visiting a stoneyard, choosing a stone that speaks to you, and designing the rest of the kitchen around it.

You also won't find her opting for the cheapest appliances.

The designer said she often sees clients dealing with lower-priced appliances breaking or arriving damaged, which is why she recommends investing in quality when possible.

"Do your research and get the best ones that you can afford," she said.

For a higher-end look, the designer prefers to conceal appliances with panel-ready options integrated into the cabinetry. She also said retro-inspired styles are a more aesthetically pleasing alternative if integrated appliances aren't an option.

Too much overhead lighting can make a kitchen feel less cozy.

According to Mari, it is absolutely possible to have too much lighting in a kitchen.

She avoids track lighting and recessed lights, which can give off way too much light and make a kitchen feel more like an operating room, she said.

Instead, the designer prefers wall-mounted sconces, small lamps, or other forms of task lighting to provide "a warm and cozy vibe."

In addition, Mari recommends installing dimmer switches whenever possible to help set the mood and give you more control over the amount of light in the space.

Lastly, you won't see her jumping on kitchen trends unless they truly fit her vibe and needs.

There's nothing wrong with following the latest design trends, like colorful lighting strips under cabinets or mosaic-tile backsplashes, as long as you truly like them and they work for you.

"Every space is unique, and every family is different, and the best kitchen is the one that functions best for your needs," Mari said.

For her, designing a kitchen is about personalizing the space to fit each client's needs and lifestyle rather than following a trend simply because it's popular.

If she is going to hop on a trend in her kitchen, it's going to be because it suits her tastes and her lifestyle.

• I've lived in Texas for many years, and Fredericksburg is one of my favorite places to visit.
• Fredericksburg has incredible wineries, and I like that it isn't too far from Austin or San Antonio.
• The small city has a charming, walkable Main Street with some great shops and restaurants.

After more than 15 years of driving between San Antonio and Austin as a longtime Texas local, I've found my favorite detour: Fredericksburg.

Part of the scenic Texas Hill Country, it's a walkable city with German roots, popular for its array of wineries, boutique hotels, and lively downtown.

Although I love Austin and San Antonio, Fredericksburg provides a small-town feel that the aforementioned cities — with populations close to a million each — could never quite achieve.

In my opinion, Fredericksburg's small population of about 12,000 people only lends to its charm. It's a great break from bigger Texas cities, as it's less than a two-hour drive from Austin or San Antonio.

Here are a few reasons I visit Fredericksburg twice a year and highly recommend it as a travel destination.

In this area, wine is a huge draw

Fredericksburg is situated in the heart of Texas wine country, so visiting without enjoying one of its many wineries is like a crime in Texas. (Another crime? Dry brisket.)

In Fredericksburg, you can either stop by a multitude of tasting rooms on Main Street or drive out past a ranch or two to find Tuscan-style wineries hidden in plain sight.

One of my favorite wineries is Augusta Vin Winery — and it's worth the extra drive. I always enjoy sipping reds in the spacious tasting room, with large open windows perfect for taking in the Texas sunshine.

A few other wineries worth visiting in Fredericksburg include the Rhinory for the unique experience of drinking at a rhino reserve, Slate Theory for a touch of modernity, and Grape Creek Vineyards or Barons Creek for classic experiences with beautiful views.

There's no shortage of great places to grab a meal in Fredericksburg

Consider leaning into the city's German heritage at The Auslander, one of the many locally owned restaurants on Main Street. Reminiscent of a classic Bavarian beer hall, it has beer, a whole section of schnitzel entrées, sausage plates, and German sandwiches.

For a guest more partial to upscale fare, try The Restaurant at Albert Hotel. It's fairly new and a great place for date night.

Led by Michelin-starred chef Michael Fojtasek, The Restaurant pays homage to seasonal Texas Hill Country-inspired cuisine with fresh local ingredients (like peaches) and spins on German dishes.

For good Texas barbecue, stop by Junebug's BBQ. Its menu is filled with smoked meats — the pulled pork is especially impressive — and all the fixings.

Other notable local bites include Vaudeville's famous gumbo that's only available on Saturdays, Otto's decadent cinnamon rolls, and Alstadt Brewery's ice-cold beer and tasty Reuben sandwiches.

Main Street is also home to several nice coffee shops — and the Old West-themed Java Ranch is my go-to for a perfect iced latte. I also suggest checking out Kaffee Haus and Caliche Coffee and Roasters.

Lastly, if you want to visit an Instagram-worthy spot with lots of bubbly, head down Main Street to the all-pink paradise that is Brooke's Bubble Bar. It's a very cute place to snap photos and enjoy a drink.

There's so much to do and try here, and I know I'll keep coming back

I often switch up which vineyards, cafés, and eateries I visit, and Fredericksburg's variety of accommodations makes it easy to change up where I stay, too.

I can sleep in one of several boutique hotels, go for a more rustic stay at the Onera treehouse resort near Main Street, or enjoy a cozy guest cabin at Cross Mountain Vineyards.

Hotels and eateries aside, Main Street also has tons of art galleries, antique shops, clothing boutiques, jewelry stores, and more.

I appreciate that I can spend a whole day exploring downtown without ever moving my car. (Plus, I've always been able to find ample free parking on Main Street).

If you want to enjoy a big Texas city, check out Austin or even San Antonio. However, if you're looking for a quieter alternative with a small-town feel, Fredericksburg is a great choice.

After each visit, I know I'll be back soon.

This story was originally published on September 30, 2025, and most recently updated on October 16, 2026.

• I'm in my 60s and I'm enjoying life more than I did in my 20s.
• At this point in my life, I'm more confident in my fashion choices and friendships.
• Plus, I've finally stopped questioning whether I'm where I'm "supposed to be" in life.

At 62, my life looks almost nothing like the one my 20-year-old self pictured. It's better.

Sure, I'm divorced and don't have grandchildren, but I have adult children I adore and friendships with decades of history. Plus, I'm doing something I never imagined: building a career on social media.

Every day, I talk to over 200,000 followers on TikTok and 135,000 on Instagram about hope, finding your purpose, and remembering that life doesn't have an expiration date.

At an age when many people are winding down, I seem to just be getting started. And I wouldn't change a thing.

I dress for myself, not my age

I've always loved fashion, from jeans and flip-flops to high heels and designer gowns. But these days, I have more confidence in my choices and a lot less interest in anyone else's opinion of them.

When I look at clothes, I don't see an age requirement. I see something I either love or don't.

Whether it's a bold print, an unexpected silhouette, or a statement piece, my decision on what to wear comes down to how it looks and feels on me, not how old I am. Fashion has always been a form of self-expression for me, and getting older hasn't changed that.

I don't think women should have to trade their sense of style for something more "age-appropriate" every time they celebrate another birthday.

Plus, my goal isn't to look 30. It's to make 30-year-olds excited to turn 60. After all, why would I want to turn back the clock? I've spent six decades learning who I am. I wouldn't trade that wisdom just to have younger-looking skin.

My friendships don't require me to be anyone but myself

One of the most beautiful parts of getting older is having friendships that have stood the test of time. There's something special about sitting across from someone who knows the chapters of your life you'd rather forget and realizing you have absolutely nothing to prove.

My friends and I have stood by one another through divorces, financial struggles, challenges with our children, and some of life's most difficult moments.

But we've also shared incredible joy, deepened our connections, and celebrated the love, wisdom, and experiences that make growing older such a gift.

In my 20s, I was still figuring out who I was. Now, there's no pressure to perform, impress, or constantly please the people closest to me.

We don't take everything personally, either. If someone is busy or life gets complicated, we understand. We know that a friendship isn't measured by how often you see each other.

That kind of freedom doesn't happen overnight. It's built through years of showing up, forgiving, laughing, and sometimes simply giving each other grace.

I've stopped questioning whether I'm where I'm supposed to be

When I was younger, I spent so much time wondering whether I was on the right path. I had a very specific picture of what my life should look like, and when things didn't go according to plan, I questioned myself.

At 62, I can look back and see that even the experiences I never would have chosen were my greatest gifts of all. Every path is the right path.

Loss taught me gratitude. Starting over taught me courage. Being told I wasn't enough taught me to recognize my own worth. And through it all, I've developed a resilience that allows me to face whatever life brings with confidence and hope.

And perhaps that's the biggest difference between 22 and 62: I know that my life is happening for me, not to me.

I spent so much of my younger years thinking about what my life would become. Now I'm actually living it, and I still have so much I want to do.

I know aging is inevitable. But spending decades dreading it isn't.