Okay, real talk: when was the last time you finished a book and felt like youβd just hacked lifeβs cheat code? π For me, it happened last Tuesday with a half-eaten croissant in…
Read moreOkay, let’s get real β I used to think “feminist literature” meant dusty academic manifestos that smell like your aunt’s mothball-infested attic. Then one rainy Tuesday, while hiding from my existential crisis in…
Read moreOkay, real talk β when was the last time a book physically yanked your soul out of your body, held it up to a mirror, and whispered, “Girl, we need to talk?” βοΈ…
Read moreOkay, real talk: how many of us have scrolled through BookTok for hours, bought the “life-changing” bestsellerβ¦ only to find it gathering dust next to our abandoned sourdough starter? π Been there. But…
Read moreOkay babes, let’s get real. I was curled up in my sad little apartment last winter β post-breakup, pre-midlife crisis, surviving on Trader Joe’s frozen gnocchi β when I finally unsubscribed from every…
Read moreOkay, confession time: I used to think βpersonal developmentβ was code for βbuy this overpriced journal and cry in a coffee shop.β βοΈπ Then I accidentally read a book that rearranged my brain…
Read more“Sipping Coffee & Changing Lives: The Books That Made Me Grow (And Might Make You Ugly Cry) π⨔
Okay, letβs get real. Last Tuesday, I tried to meditate but ended up rage-scrolling through TikTok while eating cold pizza. π Classic personal growth journey, right? But hereβs the thing β my actual…
Read moreOkay, letβs get real β who else has doom-scrolled through TikTok at 2 AM pretending itβs βself-careβ? π Raise your hand if youβve ever felt personally victimized by vague Instagram affirmations about βmanifesting…
Read moreOkay, real talk: I almost canceled my therapy appointment last week because a fictional character gave me better advice than my actual therapist. π Hear me out β I was curled up with…
Read moreOkay, real talk: Last Tuesday, I spilled oat milk all over my journal while trying to “find myself” through a TikTok-inspired meditation. As I blotted pages with cinnamon-dusted paper towels (don’t ask), it…
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