• 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.

• As a sommelier, wine is my job — and sparkling wine is my favorite. Costco's a good place to get it.
• Costco has solid prosecco and cava, plus fancy vintage Champagne like Henriot
• There are also great sparkling wines from brands like Roederer Estate and Moët & Chandon.

I wasn't sure if my husband and I would be able to get the full value out of our Costco membership, but I was wrong.

Although not every location sells alcohol, our local Costco does — and I've found this bulk retailer has some of the best wine prices.

This comes in handy because, as a certified sommelier, I buy a lot of wine for tastings, events, and even my own collection. And every time I go to Costco, I seem to discover something new, whether it's a unique variety or an especially great deal.

Here are some of the best sparkling wines I've found at Costco so far.

Editor's Note: Prices and availability may vary.

The Kirkland Signature Prosecco feels like a steal.

Typically around $10 a bottle, Kirkland Signature's prosecco is one of the most affordable sparkling wines I've seen at Costco.

Don't let the price fool you, though. This wine is from the "Superiore" area of the Italian prosecco region, meaning the winemaking standards are higher.

The Kirkland Signature bottle is on the sweet side, and it's perfect for brunch mimosas.

Moët sells millions of bottles of its Champagne every year.

Moët & Chandon Champagne is probably the most iconic wine on this list.

As a sommelier, people often ask for a glass of Champagne whenever they want something fizzy. However, true Champagne has to be made in the Champagne region of France — trust me, it actually makes a difference.

The flavors are much more complex and layered than a standard sparkling wine. There's also something special and luxurious about Champagne.

This bottle is amazing on its own, but also shines with salty snacks such as potato chips, mixed nuts, and popcorn.

Kirkland Signature's Champagne is also hype-worthy.

You may not expect much from the Kirkland Signature brut Champagne, but it's hard to find another bottle like it.

It's true Champagne that I've typically seen for about $21 — it's rare to find a large bottle of the stuff at such a low price.

This variety is a little lighter and fresher than some Champagnes, but if that doesn't bother you, it's a total winner.

Roederer Estate makes a stunning $20 sparkler.

If regions don't matter to you, try this pick from Roederer Estate.

Some big Champagne brands purchase land and make Champagne-style sparkling wines worldwide. In this case, Louis Roederer bought property in Northern California's Anderson Valley.

Its sparkling brut is a delight and I've seen it for $20 to $30 a bottle. In comparison, the brand's true French Champagne goes for closer to $60 to $80.

I like the Californian Roederer Estate stuff so much that I served it at my own wedding.

If you've got Champagne taste on a beer budget, try cava.

Choosing cava is a great way to save money on sparkling wine.

The Spanish sparkler uses the same production method as Champagne but rarely costs more than $20 a bottle. Costco even has one from Blanchard Perez that I've seen for under $10.

Cava is generally dry, with little to no sweetness. I love serving it with appetizers and tapas.

I've also found solid sparkling rosés at Costco.

The only thing more on trend than sparkling wine is sparkling rosé, and Scharffenberger Cellars has a bottle for around $20 at Costco.

The affordable Californian wine is made from grapes grown in Mendocino County and has a cheerful effervescence.

It pairs well with light dishes such as salads, shrimp cocktail, and smoked salmon dips.

For when only fancy vintage Champagne will do, turn to Henriot.

I wanted to include one special, pricier wine on the list, and that spot went to the $150 bottle of Henriot I found at Costco.

It's a vintage Champagne, which means all the grapes were harvested in the same year.

Henriot has been around for over 200 years, and it's one of the few larger brands that's still independent and family-owned. For me, this Champagne hits all the marks for complexity, flavor, acid, and finish.

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

• I was living with my boyfriend when we broke up, and he suggested that we stay roommates.
• After looking into my options, I realized that living together might be the best financial move.
• It was awkward at first, but acknowledging the situation and setting boundaries helped.

I met my ex in Spain, on a warm October night in 2024. He approached me as we were both walking home from a boxing class and confidently started a conversation.

About two weeks later, we went on our first date. A few months after that, we took our first weekend trip together. In April, he surprised me with a key to his home. By June, I'd moved in.

Our relationship was built on genuine care for one another. Throughout our relationship, we always sought to support each other's well-being and growth. Of course, we had bumps here and there, but they were never significant enough to change our respect for each other.

That's why, when we agreed to break up in August because we saw our lives going in different directions, I wasn't at all surprised that we found a way to continue living together.

We broke up, but I stayed at my ex's house

Under normal circumstances, I would've moved out as soon as possible. I've always believed that you can't start to heal from a breakup until you cut all ties and communication with your ex.

So, I bought the boxes, tape, and bubble wrap, started looking for apartments, and began packing.

But then two weeks later, I lost a freelance contract that contributed a significant portion to my income. This, coupled with the fact that I was already in the middle of a lengthy visa process to make Spain my long-term home, only added to the stress of going through a breakup.

Seeing the distress I was enduring, my ex sat me down and suggested that I continue to live with him until I was able to get back on my feet again.

My first thought was that people would think I was out of my mind for choosing to live with an ex. Then, I started weighing the pros and the cons.

If I stayed, housing would be one less thing I'd have to worry about … but every day, I would have to see someone I'd just broken up with. Worst of all, I'd have to treat my ex like a roommate, as if we didn't just spend the past two years in an affectionate relationship.

If I decided to move out, I wouldn't have to see my ex every day, and I could focus on healing my broken heart alone — but I'd be in a tough financial situation.

Unlike my ex — who's lenient and open to pulling some extra weight when I can't make rent or contribute 50/50 on utilities — I knew that a landlord wouldn't necessarily care about my personal situation once the first of the month rolled around.

I chose to keep living with him.

At first, there was an adjustment period

Those first few weeks were awkward. We'd already had separate bedrooms because of my ex's insomnia, but the changes to our routines and interactions felt foreign.

Instead of getting a text inviting me to come cuddle with him on Sunday mornings, my phone remained silent. Instead of getting ready and walking to the gym together in the afternoon, I started going in the morning.

Instead of sitting down to have dinner together, we ate at different times in different rooms. Whenever we saw each other, we would force a smile, say hi, and go our separate ways.

We didn't acknowledge the strangeness of our situation until one moment broke down the barrier. I was used to having crying sessions in my room, but this time, one snuck up on me while I sat in the living room. The stress of my breakup, finances, and living situation had just built up too much.

My ex was passing through the living room when he saw me crying and gently asked if he could give me a hug. I nodded.

This interaction prompted us to finally discuss the elephant in the room (well, house): Living with your ex is weird. Simply addressing the situation and talking about how we were both coping instantly made it feel a little bit lighter.

We found a new way to live together

What followed was a conversation about how we wanted living together to look like. We knew we were doing something unusual, which was daunting, but also meant we were free to make our own rules.

Our first decision was to stop acting like strangers. Barely acknowledging each other's existence just didn't work for us, so we welcomed a level of friendliness into our new relationship.

Then, we decided we'd continue offering each other a certain level of emotional support. My ex recently took a leave of absence from work to heal from burnout and contemplate his next career move.

Meanwhile, I was struggling to find full-time work and sustain the life I was building abroad. Being there for each other when one of us needed a listening ear felt important.

Lastly, we agreed not to cross any lines that would confuse the other person. We weren't in a romantic relationship anymore, so we decided that any affection beyond a friendly hug would be prohibited.

With this, our living situation went from something that felt unbearable to something that works for us. In the next few months, I plan to save enough from my freelance work to move out. Until then, I'm happy knowing I have a home, even if it's with my ex.

• 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.

• I made chili recipes from celebrity chefs Ina Garten, Ree Drummond, and Giada De Laurentiis.
• Garten's recipe, which didn't call for any beans, didn't really feel like traditional chili.
• One of my favorites had white beans and chicken, a far cry from a traditional beef chili.

Cold weather is always better with hearty meals, like a warm bowl of chili.

In search of the best one to make on repeat all fall and winter, I tried recipes from celebrity chefs Ina Garten, Ree Drummond, and Giada De Laurentiis.

Here's how the dishes turned out, and which ended up being my top picks.

I started with Garten's recipe, which didn't feel familiar to me at all

Garten's chicken chili recipe, which I found on the Food Network website, seemed fairly straightforward.

I needed easy-to-find ingredients like yellow onion, minced garlic, red bell peppers, yellow bell pepper, chili powder, cumin, dried red-pepper flakes, cayenne, basil, chicken breasts, and cans of whole peeled plum tomatoes in puree.

I simmered the onions and garlic until translucent, added the spices and herbs, diced bell peppers, and whole tomatoes, and cooked for about half an hour.

This mixture was very similar to a chunky pasta sauce.

Instead of roasting the chicken breasts, I sautéed them in a pan

Though the recipe said to split olive oil-covered chicken breasts and bake them in the oven, I decided to sautée them in a pan since it seemed more efficient.

I sautéed them for about 12 minutes on each side, diced them, and combined them with the tomato-and-pepper sauce.

I let the chili simmer for another 20 minutes.

Garten's recipe didn't quite satisfy my chili craving

This recipe wasn't as hearty as a typical chili and had a strong tomato flavor and a lot of bell-pepper chunks.

The chicken was juicy but could have benefited from a different, more potent seasoning blend.

Topped with shredded cheese, it was filling, but not what I would want if I were in the mood for a traditional chili.

A few of my Filipino relatives tried this chili and loved it on top of white rice without cheese, though.

The next recipe I tried was Drummond's, which felt like a traditional chili

I followed a recipe for Pioneer Woman's "simple, perfect chili" that I also found on the Food Network website.

Its ingredients seemed very classic for a chili with things like ground beef, chopped garlic, tomato sauce, chili powder, cumin, oregano, cayenne pepper, and canned beans.

I was surprised to see masa harina, a dried maize-based flour often used as a thickening agent, as an ingredient.

Drummond's recipe was super easy, though I made a substitution

To start, I browned ground beef in a large pot with minced garlic and drained the fat.

I added chili powder, cumin, oregano, and cayenne pepper to the meat and incorporated the tomato sauce.

After stirring, I let the chili simmer for an hour, adding a half cup of water when the mixture looked a bit dry.

I didn't have masa harina, which needed to be turned into a paste for this recipe, so I substituted it with corn grits.

To do so, I mixed the grits with water and stirred them into the chili. Then, I drained and rinsed my cans of pinto and kidney beans, and added them to the mixture along with more seasonings and salt to taste.

I let all of that simmer for about 10 minutes.

Drummond's recipe made an excellent traditional chili

Drummond's easy-to-make recipe was meaty, hearty, and filling.

It was nice and thick, and I liked the ground beef and texture from the pinto and kidney beans. The cumin and spices added a warm flavor, too.

For me, it checked all the boxes for a tasty chili.

De Laurentiis uses ground chicken in her chili recipe

Next, I tried De Laurentiis' recipe for white bean and chicken chili as found on the Food Network website.

The ingredients were fairly simple, including ground chicken, onion, cumin, chili powder, Swiss chard, canned cannellini beans (or other white beans), frozen corn, fennel seeds, chicken stock, and red-pepper flakes.

For serving, she suggested topping the chili with Parmesan and chopped parsley.

To start, I simmered chopped onions and minced garlic until translucent and added ground chicken, salt, cumin, fennel, oregano, and chili powder.

After the meat cooked through, I added the roughly-chopped Swiss chard, beans, corn, and chicken stock.

Per the recipe, I made sure to scrape the browned bits off the bottom of the pot

I let the mixture simmer for about an hour, added chili flakes, and cooked for about 10 more minutes.

When plating, I sprinkled Parmesan and parsley on top.

This chili had some great flavors

De Laurentiis' chili wasn't particularly conventional — with the Swiss chard, ground chicken, and Parmesan — but I thought it was tasty.

I enjoyed the savory flavor of the crunchy corn, tender white beans, and vegetal Swiss chard. The stock and ground chicken gave this a rich, meaty taste, too.

I thought this was the perfect, comforting bowl of chili.

For me, the recipes from Drummond and De Laurentiis tied for first place

I loved both Drummond's traditional chili and De Laurentiis' chicken version for their hearty, savory, and complex flavors.

They were different types of chili, but equally delicious for game day.

Though Garten's recipe wasn't bad, the chunky texture wasn't my favorite, and it just didn't do it for me in terms of what I look for in a chili.

Check out the other celebrity-chef recipes we've put head-to-head so far.

This story was originally published on February 11, 2022, and most recently updated on October 19, 2026.

• I compared turkey sandwiches from Jersey Mike's, Subway, and Jimmy John's to find the best one.
• I wasn't impressed by the bread from Subway or Jimmy John's, but the sandwiches were OK.
• Ultimately, Jersey Mike's was my clear winner with a generously loaded, flavorful turkey sandwich.

When noon rolls around, nothing is more classic than a turkey sandwich, a basic yet delicious staple of many American lunches — and a personal favorite of mine.

To me, a traditional turkey sandwich consists of sliced turkey, lettuce, and tomato stuffed between two mayo-slathered pieces of bread. If there's cheese, it's usually a mild white like Swiss or provolone.

Jersey Mike's, Subway, and Jimmy John's all offer some version of my go-to sandwich, so I set out to find the best one.

To keep things fair, I ordered each chain's regular-size sandwich without any customizations — and to be extra fastidious, I brought out my measuring tape to make sure the advertised inches were accurate, because you truly never know.

Here's how the sandwiches compared.

I started at Jersey Mike's, where I was surprised by an ultra-thick sub.

Jersey Mike's is recognized for its freshly sliced meats, "Mike's Way" preparation, and "juice," otherwise known as oil and vinegar. The Turkey and provolone sandwich came with all of the above.

The menu noted that all cold subs, including the turkey and provolone, are prepared "Mike's Way," which meant with lettuce, tomato, onion, seasonings, and the aforementioned "juice." Sliced turkey and provolone cheese completed the sandwich.

The regular (almost) 7-inch sub cost me $9.80 before tax, or roughly $1.40 per inch.

I enjoyed almost everything about Jersey Mike's turkey sandwich.

This put my homemade turkey sandwiches, which I considered solid, to shame.

Oil, vinegar, oregano, and salt gave an otherwise simple sandwich an incredibly flavorful twist, and it paired beautifully with the soft, crusty-at-the-edges bread. It felt like a hybrid turkey-and-Italian sandwich.

The turkey was surprisingly moist, as was the cheese — which made sense in hindsight, given that I watched the staff slice these ingredients in real time. I expected only a couple of slices of each, but I found at least five of turkey and three of cheese.

I can't say the lettuce, tomato, and onion were crisp, but that's probably because they soaked in "the juice" for the 30-minute drive home. In my opinion, though, the "Mike's Way" preparation was worth slightly soggy produce.

The sub didn't have mayonnaise, which would be a dealbreaker for some, but with brightness from "the juice," I didn't miss it. (Plus, I could always customize the sandwich to add the condiment on.)

My next stop was Subway, where my sandwich seemed like a solid value.

Aside from its 2008 "five-dollar footlong" advertisement, Subway is known for its freshly baked bread and customizable sandwiches. I didn't take advantage of the latter this time, but normally, I prefer building my own.

I ordered the oven-roasted turkey sandwich as is. It came with turkey, provolone cheese, lettuce, tomato, onion, and mayonnaise. I opted for the standard artisan Italian bread.

My sub, which was meant to be 6 inches long, measured a little closer to 5½. It cost me $7.99 before tax, or roughly $1.33 per inch; although narrower, it towered almost as tall as Jersey Mike's.

The oven-roasted turkey sub was OK, but the bread didn't impress me.

Like Jersey Mike's, Subway's sandwich was generous with the turkey. Plentiful, yes, but it was papery-thin and a bit lacking moisture. It reminded me of deli turkey from the grocery store.

On a lighter note, I liked the mild, buttery cheese and crisp lettuce, which tasted especially fresh. The thick tomato slices added a nice, juicy bite.

Those who enjoy raw red onions would appreciate Subway's crunchy slices. They sharpened the flavor, but in my opinion, they were a little too strong for a turkey sandwich.

The most dominant element of this sandwich was the mayonnaise, which was slathered on as if life depended on it. Again, some people might dig it, but it was too much for me.

Most disappointing was the bread. Given that Subway's known for its fresh-baked bread daily, I hoped it would be soft and chewy.

However, the bread in my sandwich seemed so dry that I wondered if it was stale.

My final stop was Jimmy John's, where my sandwich seemed half full.

I hadn't been to Jimmy John's in a few years, but I was excited to see if it still had its fresh French bread that so many people rave about.

The Turkey Tom included turkey, lettuce, tomato, and mayonnaise. No cheese, but I figured if the sandwich was good, it wouldn't need it.

My turkey sandwich cost $7.99 before tax, or about $1 per inch.

Although it didn't seem to have much filling, I was impressed by its 8-inch length.

Unfortunately, I felt the sub lacked flavor and substance.

If thin and slim is your forte, Jimmy John's sandwich will be right up your alley. However, for something satisfying, it wouldn't be my first choice.

To its credit, the sandwich had juicy turkey slices and mayo that tasted like Hellmann's. (After checking the website, I confirmed that it actually was.)

But I felt the sub lacked pizzazz, probably because it didn't contain onions, cheese, or much of anything at all. I missed the cheese most.

I could customize it to include those things next time, but I'm not sure I'd come back for this sandwich.

The bread didn't wow me either.

I expected Jimmy John's bread to be a redeeming factor since, according to the chain's website, it bakes fresh loaves every four hours, but it was mediocre at best.

It might have been softer had I eaten it at the restaurant, but after the drive home, it wasn't particularly pillowy.

Overall, I found this sandwich forgettable — something I could easily make at home with a few simple ingredients. If I did so, I'd certainly add cheese.

I'd only order one sandwich again.

Even though it came out the priciest per inch, Jersey Mike's turkey sub felt like the best value. Its substantial weight, well-balanced ingredients, and signature "juice" set it apart from the pack.

The wet produce was my only major complaint, and I definitely would not try to eat this drippy, messy sandwich in a car or on the go.

Subway and Jimmy John's also offered passable turkey sandwiches, and if I were in a pinch, I'd be fine with either. However, for a truly special, memorable sub, Jersey Mike's did it for me.

I had only eaten at the chain once before, and I will certainly be back after this.

When reached for comment, a Subway spokesperson provided the following statement:

"For over 60 years, Subway has been built on customization. While we offer standard builds, every freshly made sandwich can be tailored to a guest's preferences, from adding extra cheese and protein to swapping veggies and adjusting condiments. We celebrate our guests' individual tastes and encourage them to make each meal their own."

Business Insider reached out to Jersey Mike's and Jimmy John's for comment.

• 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.

• When it comes to money, I'm a big budgeter, and my husband prefers taking risks.
• Now that we're building a house together, our differences are causing some disagreements.
• We've learned to stay flexible and balance each other's approaches.

My husband and I have very different ideas about financial responsibility.

When we're feeling stressed about money, my instinct is to run the numbers and account for every financial what-if. He's a big-picture dreamer who sees what something could become and is more willing to say, "We'll figure it out."

His attitude has paid off before. He had the vision for our first home, which we bought for under $100,000 and recently sold for a decent profit after 13 years of renovations.

I know some of the best things we've done together wouldn't have happened without my husband's willingness to take a chance, but our differences have still caused some friction over the years.

Now that we're building a new home together, we're trying to balance my need to plan for the unknown with his belief that we'll find a way forward.

After 13 years, we took a risk and sold our home

For 13 years, we'd lived in the same place. My husband had moved frequently as a child, and he wanted his two daughters to have a consistent place to call home.

Leaving this house behind was bittersweet, but my oldest stepdaughter had just bought her own house, and my younger one was heading off to college. We were ready for what came next.

We could have bought an existing house needing renovations. Instead, we found land in southern Maine that felt worth taking a risk on.

We've always loved the area. My family has an annual reunion there, where we spend a week at the beach. Our new property will hopefully give us that lifestyle without the summer crowds: It's more than 2 ½ acres with hiking trails next door, a nearby kayak and paddleboard launch, and the ocean just a short drive away.

We decided to go for it, and by the end of August, our old house was nearly empty. My younger stepdaughter left for college on a Wednesday, we moved the rest of our things to a rental on a Thursday, and officially sold the house that Friday.

Every estimate comes with an 'unless'

In September, we began building our 1,500-square-foot house.

We're now paying $3,000 a month for a rental home — with a construction loan on top of that — and keeping track of a lot of numbers, from lumber and labor to excavation, plumbing, electrical, permits, and finishes.

My husband is doing most of the construction himself, which is what makes this project possible. If we had to pay for all of the labor, we probably couldn't afford to build right now.

However, that's not to say this hasn't been a very stressful time. We think we've accounted for everything, but every estimate has an asterisk: Unless lumber prices go up. Unless a contractor's price changes.

Unless we hit ledge — that is, solid bedrock beneath the soil that can be expensive to excavate. We might have to rethink the foundation or adjust the entire plan once we see what's underground.

I find that uncomfortable, but my husband doesn't.

We're leaving room to adjust

My husband can picture what this property could become over time, and has big dreams for it.

He wanted a garage, a small cottage where our family could stay when they visit, a little more space, and nicer finishes in some areas. I kept bringing us back to what we could afford right now, and how much we wanted to keep in savings rather than put everything into the house.

After a lot of discussion, we decided to start small. We're building for the life we have today, while — at his request — leaving room for the one we might want tomorrow. The garage and cottage can wait. For now, we're focusing on getting the house right without stretching our budget too far.

That means staying flexible. For instance, my husband wants a finished basement, and I agreed, knowing this would give us the option to add a third bedroom down the road.

Though the cost difference between a basement and an unfinished crawl space isn't huge upfront, hitting ledge could put us thousands — or even tens of thousands — over budget.

We're willing to give the basement a shot, but if excavation costs start climbing, we may have to scale back to a crawl space and save the extra bedroom for another day.

We have a plan, but we know it might change once we get further into the build. I'll keep making the spreadsheets and asking for the numbers. He'll keep looking at the big picture and reminding me why we decided to do this.

This project, and my husband, have taught me that financial responsibility isn't necessarily about eliminating every risk, but knowing which risks are worth taking and staying open to changing course.

• 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.