The Difference a Year Makes

A year ago was the first time I ever wanted to skip Christmas. My 10-year relationship had ended. I was worn out from family holiday drama and being disappointed that it never was what I imagined or longed for, so I opted out. I chose me – and ONLY me.


I spent Christmas Eve reading a book and sipping chardonnay in Delta Sky Club at JFK waiting to board a flight to Iceland.


And I spent Christmas Day like this. Sipping champagne in the 105° water of the Blue Lagoon with a silica mask on my face and icicles forming in my hair. It was magical.

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