I remember the first time I went to therapy. It was a lovely woman’s home in Beverly Hills. She had an office on the second floor of her home overlooking her pool. She was older. At least I thought she was. I was 21. Or 22. She was probably late 40’s, early 50’s. I was a bit embarrassed to be there. A bit ashamed. A bit lost. And a bit terrified. Lucky for me, she rid me of my anxiety 10 minutes into our session. And I didn’t die a slow death in a therapists office on a Wednesday.


Hawaii to me, is so many things. It’s hard to even conjure up the appropriate words for such a magical place, but it’s also like any other town that you feel close to. Hawaii isn’t my home. But it is. And here’s why.


Beauty is bogus. It just is. I’m exhausted. It’s all too much. It’s also a myth. Everyone’s interpretation of beauty is up to their own device. And opinions are rampant. Some are false ideas to us. Some are brilliant. Some we make up as we go along. It’s imaginary. And also a journey. One’s belief of beauty is certainly not the others. But let’s be honest. We, the collective souls floating around the space these days searching for serums that save us, searching for ideas to feel beautiful, it’s as intoxicating as it is tiresome. Some days I’m over it and I skip all the serums, or my hair is going gray because I don’t have time for an appointment and I feel like it’s just a big bunch of bogus. Then I wake up the next day, and it’s on. I want to feel pretty. And I think that’s the majority. We’re all winging it, but we all want to know what works. And yes, we all want to feel pretty. I’m over 40, and I try it all. And if I swore I’d never do Botox before this post, don’t call me a liar if I change my mind. And here’s why.