Cassie in California

I only got halfway through The Grapes of Wrath. And On the Road. And Naked Lunch.

I once feigned an allergy to blueberries so I wouldn’t have to eat a blueberry muffin. I was 14 and had never even tried a blueberry.

In middle school, I had my friends “break up” with a boyfriend for me while I watched from afar. On two separate occasions.

In high school, I once didn’t have enough money to split a check three ways, and I never paid back the girl who covered me—even though I said I would.

During an interview for an internship in college, I awkwardly shook the hand of the woman who was interviewing me. And then apologized for it. Which was even more awkward.

Up until recently, I used the words “picaresque” and “picturesque” interchangeably.

Sometimes, I’m impatient with my sisters and feel guilty about it.

Sometimes, I ask for advice and don’t agree with it.

Sometimes, I’m passive aggressive because it’s easier than confrontation. But I’m working on that.

I’m worried moving to California will be more difficult than I’m capable of handling.

I’m terrified all my peers in grad school will be smarter than I am.

I’m scared I’ll finish grad school and not know what to do next.


I’ve forgiven myself for past mistakes. (And if I’m forgiving myself, I should forgive others, too.) I’m trusting myself to make good decisions. I’m embracing the uncertainty without allowing myself to become paralyzed by fear. There’s a lot I’m choosing to leave out of this confessional. But I feel better already. What do you need to get off your chest?