The following story is 100% true.

Friday, 7:30pm

"You should have stayed over last night."

I hate stereotypes about women as much as anyone else... but here's one that's actually true:

Almost everyone who participates in teen travel tours, service trips, and summer abroad programs​... is a girl.

"Expats are expats for a reason," I recently wrote in one of my original songs, "And there's a reason I travel alone."

I won't get into the reason expats are expats (but I will say that it's not racist to call expats expats and immigrants immigrants -- it's not about skin color, but passports). But here's the main reason I travel alone: I basically  designed my life around being able to travel several months a year, and most people have not.

People often say it's brave and rare for a woman to travel alone, but, empirically, it's really not.

I screamed so loud, it echoed off the bricks and parking structures around us.

Fun fact: as a blogger, I get people pitching guest posts to me basically every day. I basically always say no. But once in a while, someone says something so brilliant, I've got to say yes. Among these: How to Be Happy, Even When You're Programmed Not To Be; 6 Reasons It's Not COMPLETELY Awful to Date A Guy Who Lives With His Parents; and If You Care About Women's Rights, Stop Saying Islam is a Religion of Peace. 

Today, my friend Claire* told me a story I thought was worth sharing -- so we did a co-write of her experience with a "good friend" the other night.

I travel alone. A lot. It's super fun. It's never lonely. You're free to do whatever you want without worrying about other people's fears or physical limitations.

People say it must be "empowering" to travel alone as a woman. But, honestly, I've always found it way more empowering to backpack alone with my dog.

Yesterday, I wrote about how there's a difference between helping a depressed friend and enabling an abuser. My intention was to inform those whose friends suffer from mental illness to be compassionate... but remember to think critically about your actions and the effects they may have on your friend and his/her partner. 

Today, I'm writing a quick reminder to those who are, or may be, affected by mental illness:

Your partner is not your emotional slave.

My background is in psychology -- but not abnormal or relationship psychology. (I studied adult playfulness!) I want to acknowledge that before I start, because this is far from my area of expertise.

But I just saw some of THE MOST FUCKED UP SHIT on Facebook, and it prompted an important realization:

​There is a difference between helping a depressed friend and enabling an abuser.

I'm not, like, a religious EXPERT or anything... But remember that time Jesus was like:
​

The difference is consent.

It's Christmas -- so let the "annual debate" about Baby, It's Cold Outside commence. 

Image: @TheHappyTalent on Instagram

Last night, I debuted my first-ever original Christmas song -- and, a few mistakes notwithstanding, it went pretty well! 

Which is funny, because when I decided to write a Christmas song, I thought there was about a 1% chance I'd create something that wasn't embarrassingly awful and cheesy. 

​So how did I do it?

Simple. 

​I tied a hand behind my back.