Jen Glantz

I’ll admit it; I, Jennifer Sara Glantz, have ghosted my fair share of guys in New York City. Nothing made me feel as bad as when I ghosted my therapist.

Making and breaking New Year Resolutions has become somewhat of a tradition for me. Perhaps the only one I’ve ever kept was to not take life so seriously.

This is a letter to Santa, from a Jewish girl. Shalom Santa, Do you remember me? I love you, Santa, and I’m just wondering why we can’t be friends.

I soon realized that admiring everyone’s seemingly perfect life was making me spiral into a pit of holiday season depression and I couldn't climb out.

Friends call — once or twice a month — to tell me that they are pregnant.I’m no longer over-the-moon happy for them; I’ve become jealous.

I smiled and walked out the door, choosing myself over a guy, choosing my business over a person who wanted me to be someone I no longer was.

When I found out that my boyfriend lied to me, twice, about going to a strip club, I thought I’d have the guts to be able to handle it better than I did.

My first impression of the matchmaker was that she was someone with whom I’d be friends. Yet, my real friends turned out to be better matchmakers.

I went to learn about the options to freeze my eggs so that when I was ready to make a decision about having kids, I wouldn’t have to worry about my age.

My first time trying out for The Bachelor, I really wanted to get on the show to find love. “Is anyone else here to find love?” I said out loud.