I can’t measure my success by my GPA or another tick mark on my lifelong tally of semesters completed. The close of another school year always meant we could say with certainty that we achieved something. We were one step closer to that seemingly far-off goal of entering the real world. But no one really told us how we were supposed to measure success once we actually entered it.

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Despite an almost 20 year age difference, A and I were experiencing a very similar dating crisis. As she vented and we discussed, I found myself blurting loudly (as you do after a couple glasses of wine) “OH MY GOD. MAYBE IT NEVER GETS BETTER.” We stared at each other for a moment before cackling desperately. Ah, masochism.

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