Twenty years ago, I had just turned 18 and my dad hadn’t died yet.
I was preparing to move for my first year of college. I was working as a hostess at a restaurant, eating baguette and butter for dinner most nights I was there. I was in a relationship with a person who was exceptionally intelligent and emotionally manipulative, and I felt like I didn’t deserve anything more than I already had, in that relationship or otherwise. My self-esteem was tanked and I was depressed.