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I have always had an active imagination. As a little girl, the hours spent playing house, or putting on skits, or pretending to be a pregnant housekeeper named Nancy (I have NO idea why this ever became a thing), I would let my mind run wild. The older I grew, the more I found myself daydreaming, creating a fantasy of how I thought life would go, and couldn't wait for it to unfold. And then, against my better judgment, I became an adult. Obviously, by my age, I have come to realize life isn't a Hallmark movie. And yet, I still find myself always seeking greener pastures. I really enjoyed a lot about my life in L.A. I lived in a beach front apartment with an ocean view. I had access to anything and everything, whenever I wanted it. I made extremely good money, I had a handful of really good girlfriends, and I was fully independent. However, I still wasn't content. I was overweight, had a non-existent dating life, and with 30 knocking on my door, I thought it