Jenny, 25, was a pro at throwing epic parties.
Give her a budget of $23, a Spotify playlist, and access to glitter, and she’d whip up an event so legendary you’d think Taylor Swift herself might RSVP.
But behind the smiles, the karaoke duels, and the glow-stick extravaganzas, Jenny’s life was... stuck.
At 25, she was broke. Like, digging-under-the-couch-for-loose-change broke. Her job as a shop assistant paid the bills, but barely. Most days, she found herself daydreaming between restocking shelves and folding endless piles of sweaters.
Her childhood didn’t help. Her parents’ divorce was the kind where plates flew, and words hurt more than sticks or stones.
Trust? For Jenny, it was a myth. Every time she tried, someone let her down.
Her escape? The weekends. Friday nights meant forgetting. Saturday mornings were for brunches and recaps of wild nights. She thrived when she was making others happy, but when Sunday night rolled around, so did that familiar pit in her stomach: Is this all there is?
Jenny had big dreams once, but somewhere along the way, they got buried under bills, bad experiences, and a growing pile of “someday” plans.
She didn’t know it yet, but “someday” was a lot closer than she thought. Stay tuned for the next email coming up soon...
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