Jen Glantz

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 realized, by the age of 25, that I needed to make new friends, and I needed to make them fast. Making friends as an adult is hard.

Plus-size rent the runway services are becoming so popular. Finally, more and more of these clothing box services are popping up for women of all sizes!

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.

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.

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.

“Apps for anxiety,” I whispered in the middle of a panic attack, holding down the round circle button on the front of my iPhone connecting to Siri.

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.

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.