what i know at 27.

these are things that i know to be true for myself, at this moment in time: 


never accept advice where love or matters of the heart are concerned.


all thoughts and feelings and beliefs are subject to change given the right experience.


sometimes you have to graciously and gracefully relinquish your grip.


don't berate the character of a man to make a girl feel better. it'll only make the girl feel worse.


the F train is far superior to the A.


i love Brooklyn just about as much as everyone thinks i can't possibly. which is to say, a lot.


loneliness is character building. it is also a bitch.


there is nothing interesting or noteworthy (or worth anything at all) about the notion of cool. cool and fine and totally okay is where the coward lives.


it is totally acceptable to wear your sunglasses on the subway if you are crying. otherwise, no.


no woman should ever stand in front of a man and ask him to lover her. literally or metaphorically. the man worth having will love you long before the question even crosses your mind.


love or happiness or in-the-mood is not a place that you get to and then live there happily ever after. these things are moving, movable places with shifting terrains that demand constant navigation with new eyes and courageous hearts.


nothing offers more protection than honesty, even if in the moment few things feel more vulnerable.


i have always learned best by making the worst sort of mistakes.


falling in love with a lot of the wrong guys is par for the course. this is not everyone's story, of course. but if it's yours, that's okay.


sometimes the blues really is just a slight breeze and then sometimes it is a motherfucking freight train barreling straight through.


every woman (and man) should have a really good therapist and a hairstylist who tells the truth.


we suffer small deaths as we age: the feeling you get as a child the night before your birthday. or on christmas morning. the wonder and sense that the world is different--and you in that world are different too. but the wonderful thing--the thing no one talks about--is that you find these feelings elsewhere in unexpected ways. christmas morning becomes a man--becomes his hand on the small of your back.


everyone has a ground zero. a phone call that splits the before and after. a moment that lives like a sinkhole and around which we then narrowly navigate all that follows. we are not alone in our suffering.


humility is damn appealing. and a man who offers his seat to a pregnant woman or an older woman or a man with a cane is damn sexy. you can't ever go wrong with flowers. and few things are more attractive than someone who pays for the dinner bill long after the first date.