• Daliana Liu was a data scientist at Amazon and a startup before leaving to start her own business.
• She now works as a coach for data scientists looking to accelerate their careers and brand.
• Liu said she still gets cold DMs from recruiters at Meta and OpenAI because of her online presence.

This as-told-to-essay is based on a conversation with Daliana Liu, a data scientist and career coach. Business Insider has verified Liu's employment with documents. It's been edited for length and clarity.

After finishing my undergraduate math degree at a college in China, I moved to California to get my Master's in Statistics at the University of California, Irvine.

In January 2014, I started working at a startup, before being recruited by Amazon a little over a year later as a business intelligence engineer.

I started at Amazon in Seattle, working on an A/B testing platform for their retail website. I created various statistical analyses and reports and supported product managers.

I trained employees on how to use A/B testing to make better product decisions, eventually starting my own newsletter for Amazon employees to share experiment insights from across teams.

An internal Amazon newsletter was my first content creation

The newsletter was my initial content creation. I learned to create engaging titles and make my writing concise and interesting.

During that time, I began writing on Medium about technical data science. Once, I wrote a viral post about saving money by picking the right month to start renting an apartment. It was exciting to help people make better decisions using data.

I started posting to LinkedIn in 2019. I wanted to share the unfiltered truth about being a data scientist and getting a job at Amazon, after seeing misleading posts about the industry. A couple of my posts blew up, but the majority of my following was organic from posting regularly. I now have nearly 300,000 followers on LinkedIn.

I then started a public newsletter. I've always wanted to be an entrepreneur and thought having public channels would help me find investors in the future.

I moved up the ranks at Amazon and started a podcast

In December 2020, I moved to San Francisco to work for Amazon Web Services as a machine learning engineer. I got promoted to senior data scientist in 2021 and had to work with a lot of external customers.

I read books about communication and influencing stakeholders. I wanted learn good communication for my own leadership within the company, as well as our clients.

In 2021, I launched a podcast interviewing data scientists on their day-to-day work, how they tackle technical problems, and their career journeys.

One of the guests I interviewed invited me to a dinner with his CEO, who offered me a job to work as a data scientist for his startup, Predibase. I quit Amazon in June 2022 to work at the startup.

During the year I worked at Predibase, I continued to experiment with my podcast while also creating a career course for data scientists, teaching them essential communication and influencing skills.

Between 2021 and 2023, when I posted weekly episodes, my podcast had 50,000 subscribers across platforms. My startup job supported me in pursuing a side business, and I started making income from sponsorship and events through the podcast. I started getting sponsorship in March 2023.

I quit Big Tech to start my own business

As much as I loved working in tech, I always wanted to do something of my own. Once I got to the point I had business contracts in place for my podcast, a plan for my course, and some savings, I decided to quit my job and start my own business in September 2023.

Around the time I quit the startup, a VC firm tried to recruit me for a platform community growth role because they like my content and the podcast I built. I didn't take the job because I wanted to focus on my own business.

I now have a career accelerator course teaching data scientists communication skills, how to get promoted, and how to build their brands.

Being a thought leader opens job opportunties

While working for Amazon and the startup, I had recruiters from top companies like Apple and Netflix getting in touch. Even after leaving Big Tech, I still get messages from people at companies like OpenAI and Meta trying to recruit me.

They mention they like my experience in data science which they can see from my LinkedIn. They can also see my Medium blog and my podcast. I was able to get jobs through my podcast and recruiters often reference my content creation when they've reached out.

It's very important in this job market to be a builder, and a great way to demonstrate that is to publish blog posts or create a demo for recruiters to stand out.

I think Big Tech companies value my technical skills and industry thought leadership, which I post about on blogs and LinkedIn. Having a large following makes it easier for these recruiters to find and trust me.

Startups and VC funds seem to value both my technical skills and content creation skills, also that I've built a community.

By publishing my thoughts, I've opened myself up to data science roles, as well as developed transferable skills. If my path as a thought leader doesn't work out, I think it would be easy for me to find a job in data science, marketing, or a community role.

I'm not tempted to return to tech or startups. There's uncertainty as an entrepreneur, but I get to choose my clients and projects. I can take time off and travel. I'm not married or a parent yet, but when that time comes, I want the freedom to be fully present.

• Sara Beth Berman is a 43-year-old Jewish educator in Brooklyn whose fiancé died when they were both 27.
• She remembers being "horrible" for a year after his death.
• People would tell her she was lucky she could still have children after he died.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Sara Beth Berman. It has been edited for length and clarity.

Rafi and I met when we were both 22, working at a summer camp in Georgia. We quickly became friends, and after he moved to Manhattan, where I was living, a year later, we started dating.

I knew he had a genetic disorder, but I rarely saw the impact of it when we were dating. He had a habit of downplaying it. I think he was in deep denial about his condition. With no reason not to believe him, I assumed it was under control and didn't expect to lose him at a young age.

He mentioned getting married during a hospital stay

In 2007, we both moved to Jerusalem to study for a year. On my first day of classes, I had a phone call from Rafi to say he was heading to the emergency room. He told me what was happening, but said his bilingual friend was taking him, that I should stay in school because it was my first day of classes.

Once I got to the hospital, Rafi just kept saying it was no big deal — that he was fine. In 2008, we were back in the US, and he was in and out of the hospital a few times, with doctors trying to figure out what they were going to treat first.

During one of these hospital stays, he informally suggested we get married. Later, in May 2009, once out of the hospital, he made it official by asking me to be his wife.

I was looking forward to living the rest of my life with him. I booked a wedding venue and bought my dress.

He fell down the stairs and shortly after died

We moved into an Upper West Side apartment with another friend of ours in August 2009.

Shortly after, at a party we went to together, I told him I didn't think he should go up and down a flight of steep set of stairs to get to the party. He had recently broken his leg. He told me he was fine, but after the party, he tripped down the stairs and broke his shoulder and hip. We didn't realize it at the time, but the breaks were a sign his body was shutting down. There was no calcium left in his bones.

The next day, Rafi fell into a coma for a month before dying on September 29, 2009.

For months, I was an absolute disaster. I didn't sleep. I only ate doughnuts and drank Gatorade.

I remember seeing the leaves change through the fall and thinking how I and the rest of the world were continuing to move on, without him. I was horrible to everyone. I think people were afraid of me, and I sort of enjoyed that. I wanted them to be in pain because I was in pain.

My closest friends stuck in there with me, though, distracting me and helping me cancel plans for the wedding. The shop I bought my wedding dress from required me to come into the store with a death certificate in order to get a refund on the dress.

I didn't think I could love again

I had no concept of what life would be like without Rafi, and I couldn't think about loving again.

Very unhelpfully, people would tell me how lucky it was I hadn't married him or had any children. They said I would find someone else, and told me it was a good thing I was young — I could still have children with someone else.

What I needed was validation — for someone to tell me it was OK not to be OK. But I didn't know of anyone who had been a young widow like me.

A little after a year, I was brought into a group of women who had been through something similar — who had lost a boyfriend, fiancé, or spouse at a young age. This group was a big support to me. It was so useful to know there were other people like me and that they continued to exist even after.

Six years ago, I got married, and my husband and I now have a little girl together.

It hasn't been easy for my husband at times because I have a collection of rituals tied to Rafi. For example, we had to decide whether Rafi would live or die on Yom Kippur. So now, my religious practices on Yom Kippur are non-traditional. My husband and I find a balance between what's a regular Yom Kippur and my weird version of observance.

We have a memorial dinner for Rafi every year, which everyone enjoys because so many people who were friends with Rafi are also now very close with my husband and daughter.

When Rafi died, I couldn't see a way forward as a young widow, but in time, it got easier when I found my people — those who had an idea of what I was feeling. I made it through, even though it didn't feel like I ever would that first year after he died.

• Hugh Morris made just over $250,000 at JP Morgan before he left in August 2024 after his divorce.
• The 31-year-old said a higher-up told him he was making a big mistake leaving to start his own firm.
• Morris initially regretted his decision and had panic attacks, but now has his dream practice.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Hugh Morris, the president and senior wealth advisor at The Morris Group at LPL Financial. Morris's prior employment and financials have been verified with documents. It has been edited for length and clarity.

At 30 years old, I had been working as a financial advisor at JP Morgan Wealth Management for nearly three years, making just above $250,000.

I loved the company, the people I worked with, and my job, but after getting divorced in January 2024, I had a reset.

Since entering the workforce, I've always wanted my own business. As a young person with no partner, kids, or obligations, this was my opportunity to see if I could make it in the business world as a financial advisor.

Additionally, I wanted the freedom to set my own schedule so I could volunteer and get involved in my community.

I liked the idea of taking on the number and types of clients I wanted. With my own business, I could take on fewer clients than I managed at JP Morgan and make the same amount of money because I would take home all my fees.

I also thought in 30 years' time, if I were making $1 or $2 million in revenue I could sell the business at three to four times that amount to fund my retirement.

Preparing to quit my job

To prepare for my resignation, I created a monthly budget of my essential costs. I used this as a guide for my savings, so I could cover myself if the business failed.

My divorce was finalized in March 2024. We sold our house, ridding me of a $6,000 monthly house payment. I started renting, which cost less than $2,000 a month. I wanted to reduce my expenses, knowing that I would need to invest a lot of my own money into the business.

Each month, I tried to save between $5,000 and $6,000. I wouldn't have any income initially, and I knew I needed a fund to supplement my income and pay for my living expenses.

I also started networking with friends and family, thinking about where I would get my clients once I launched.

My goal was to get to $10 million in assets at a 1% fee, which is about $100,000 in revenue, in the first year.

I had panic attacks after I quit

After months of planning, saving, and networking, I resigned in August 2024. A higher up said to me, "This will be the biggest mistake of your life."

That comment stuck with me. For three months after resigning, I had panic attacks and woke in the middle of the night, sweating, my heart racing. I couldn't sleep or eat.

I thought about my old salary and the salary I could've been making had I stayed. Fears about bankruptcy crept in, and I thought about how I'd have to find a new career if this failed.

Until December 2024, I regretted leaving JP Morgan, thinking I had done what my higher-up had predicted — made a big mistake.

During the first two months of my business, I had zero income, living off the money I had saved in preparation. My first clients were family and friends, excited about my new venture, but it was difficult to grow my client list.

My grandfather's encouragement got me through those first months. Every day, he told me: "You can do this," and, "It's going to work."

I also didn't want to let down my new clients. They trusted me.

It hasn't been easy starting a business, but I have more freedom

Despite my fears, I stayed consistent. I didn't take a salary for the first two months, but by December, I was making an average of $1,500 a month from my assets under management fee.

I got referrals from existing clients and learned how to market myself to get new clients. In January, I started paying a company to do my marketing.

In March, I hired a business coach because I wanted to cut down my learning curve and grow my business faster. She helped me see that I had the skills to make my business successful.

I expect to generate $100,000 in revenue in 2025 with around 40 clients.

I still work between 40 and 60 hours a week, but set my own schedule and can volunteer in the middle of the day or leave early on a Friday.

I've also had the freedom to spend more time with my clients at dinners or golfing. I like getting to know my clients and building trust with them. I want to personalise their experience.

I occasionally feel lonely, working for myself, but I've built up a network of financial advisors in the same position as me. We talk or text often.

My income is tied to the stock market

My income is directly related to the stock market. I try to live as lean as possible and have a safety net to manage the current market volatility.

I have future clients in the pipeline, which could boost my income, but they don't want to move over right now because of the economy.

If the stock market is down 20%, my revenue will be down 20%. But it also works in reverse, when the market is up, I will get a bump in revenue.

Despite the current economy, I no longer regret my decision to start my business. I've had enough initial wins to feel like I'm going to make it work.

I have the practice I've dreamed about. There is no turning back.

Editor's note: JP Morgan declined to comment when approached by Business Insider.

• Taylor Nissi is a senior VP and wealth advisor at the wealth management firm Farther.
• He shared his top tips he would give to clients navigating recent market volatility amid tariffs.
• Nissi said everyone should have three buckets: emergency fund, growth strategy, and retirement plan.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Taylor Nissi, a wealth advisor at Farther. It has been edited for length and clarity.

It's important that people have a financial plan they can refer to during times of economic uncertainty.

In the current climate, people may want to reevaluate their risk strategies for their investment portfolios and cash management.

As a wealth advisor, it's my job to help both small business owners and employees through this time of economic uncertainty. Here are my top tips.

Make a plan and prioritize your emergency fund

We like to say you should have three buckets. The first bucket is your emergency fund, the second is your taxable growth strategy, and the third is your long-term retirement plan.

Having a financial plan gives people a reference point to return to during market fluctuations. It can help with decision-making in times of high anxiety.

Everyone should prioritize building their emergency fund or "first bucket." Your emergency fund is a way to prepare for market risk and life risk.

If your household has one income, you should have at least six months saved in your emergency fund. If you have two incomes — either two income earners, one person with two incomes, or a person with one income and a trust fund — that number could drop to three months.

Any other money you know you'll spend in the next 24 months, a college tuition to pay or a house down payment, for example, should all be added to your emergency fund.

This money should be held somewhere that it can be easily converted to cash without affecting its market price. You want something safe, easy to access, and earning a little interest: High-yield savings accounts, money market accounts, or short-term CDs are all good.

If you're not coping, remove volatile assets like stocks and add bonds

The "second bucket" is your taxable growth strategy: investments to help your money grow, even in accounts where you pay taxes, like a regular brokerage account. We've been talking with a lot of clients about how they felt when the market crashed in early April. Our clients hold a lot of wealth in stocks and were very uncomfortable.

If clients were very stressed or couldn't sleep at night, then we'd look at their "second bucket" and change the allocation of their portfolio to more bonds and fewer stocks.

However, we'd also tell people that selling stocks and buying bonds can impact your long-term financial goals. If you sell stocks when prices are down, you lock in those losses. Buying bonds instead may mean you miss out if the stocks rebound.

If you were emotionally OK during a volatile market, I'd say continue buying stocks. They're the best way to compound wealth. You want to buy companies with strong balance sheets and a strong moat around them.

Do not make reactionary portfolio decisions

If you make an emotional decision to sell everything and go to cash, there could be a knock-on impact on achieving your financial goals.

If my clients call me and tell me they want to sell everything, I generally try to walk them back, share historical data about why that might not be a good idea, and tell them to sleep on it.

Taking your money out of the market, say the S&P 500, when you're most uncomfortable and returning after a couple of days will reduce your annual average returns.

Knowing when to invest back in is the hard part. The best days in the market often come immediately after the worst days. So if you take your money out on the worst day, and wait for some kind of "all clear sign," you will almost certainly miss the best days.

I talk a lot about what we learned through the 2008 financial crisis. A lot of the people who got hurt the most were the people who reacted emotionally.

Consider long-term investments

If you're younger, under 50, I'd advise clients to own mostly stocks in their "third bucket," their retirement savings plan. Stocks have much more growth potential compared to bonds. If you didn't cope emotionally with what happened in early April, you could adjust to having fewer stocks and more bonds, but that will have a downstream impact.

If you are nearing retirement, you should be thinking about moving some of your "third bucket" assets into more stable investments. Or if you cannot handle the market swings, think about building a more stable and less growth-oriented portfolio.

I always try to help my clients who are getting ready to retire be conscious of the "sequence of returns" risk. This is when you have to pull money out of your retirement fund during bad market conditions, which can drain your savings faster than you planned for.

If you retire during a market decline, you'll be forced to sell assets at a discount rather than their fully appreciated value, which will decrease your future value. Selling investments while they're down means you'll have less money left to grow in the future, so your total retirement fund shrinks faster.

If you're preparing to retire in the next two or three years, your third bucket should have an emergency fund of its own. You want to have two years of expenses in cash in addition to the emergency fund you already have. It will protect you against stagflation and market uncertainty.

• I'm a 36-year-old mom of three kids, ages 11, 9, and 6.
• I always dreamt of having four or more kids, but now that mine are older, I'm excited not to have babies.
• I love the freedom that comes with having older kids.

After the birth of my third child, my doctor advised that it might be wise not to have more children. All three of my pregnancies and labors had been difficult for different reasons. I remember being devastated at the suggestion.

I had always envisioned myself having at least four kids. Coming from a small family, I knew my kids wouldn't have an extended family to grow up with, so I wanted to be able to give them lots of siblings who would be around through thick and thin for life. I imagined huge family get-togethers during the holidays, with girlfriends, boyfriends, husbands, wives, and all their children gathered at my house, playing games, eating meals, going for walks, and watching movies.

I look at my youngest, now 6, slightly grieved I'll never have a baby again. No more endless cuddles on my shoulder, new baby head smells, or tiny fingers gripping my own. No more chubby feet or tiny clothes. When mine were babies, I was their world — something I resented at the time — but now terribly miss.

Yet, as much as I'll miss that baby season, I'm embracing life with my older children, ages 11, 9, and 6.

Alone time exists again

Even though part of me loved being needed to literally keep a baby or toddler alive, it felt claustrophobic more often than not. I remember daydreaming about having a full day away from my breastfeeding baby and of exercising or being out with a friend without my eye on the time.

I'm learning what I like again — hiking, wild swimming, cappuccinos at cute coffee shops, and seeing friends uninterrupted.

When I drop them off at the school gates at 8:30, I know I can work for the next six hours without distraction.

I can get things done around the house

All house chores used to be rushed. Could I squeeze in mopping, cooking, laundry, dishes, or life admin during a nap or after the kids went to sleep for the night?

If they were awake, I would get things done around the house with the baby in a baby wrap, putting a variety of toys around my toddler, who was fenced in with a baby gate.

Now, I send them outside to play on the trampoline, suggest toys in their room, or just stick the TV on for them while I carry on with whatever needs doing. They can keep themselves busy independently while I get on with what needs to be done in the house.

Getting out of the house is a million times easier

Diapers. Wipes. Chew toys. Bottles. Pacifiers. Medicine. Snacks. Bib. Blanket. Spare Clothes.

The list of things I needed to stuff in a bag before going out of the house with babies and toddlers was endless.

I'd also mentally list my plan if something went wrong when we were out. What if they had an explosive poo? What if they threw a tantrum in the middle of the grocery store? What if they needed a nap? What if we got stuck in traffic?

And planning for vacation was like a part-time job. We rarely went far because it all was just far too stressful.

These days, I just shout that it's time to go, and magically, everyone gathers at the door. Even though I have to remind them to use the bathroom, put on shoes, brush their teeth, and perhaps fix their inside-out shirts, getting out is so much easier now.

We get to make a lot of memories together

I had always hesitated to spend money on activities when the kids were little. Outings were typically quite stressful, and they wouldn't remember what we had gone through such an effort to do anyway.

We unintentionally saved a lot of money by choosing to do home-based things when the kids were little, but now, we use a larger portion of our budget on days out, hobbies, and treat activities.

In the last year, we've introduced all of them to musical theatre, mountain walking, rock climbing, big cities, and travel.

I routinely take each of the kids out for a one-on-one special time — a hot drink and a cake — hopeful that one day, they'll recall all the fun they had with their mom.

Conversation is engaging

Last week, my 9-year-old wanted to talk about racism in our community. My 11-year-old loves chatting about science and business. My 6-year-old recently asked me about the religious views of people from different faiths.

They are engaged in a way they were developmentally not able to be when they were younger.

Another huge plus of them growing up is they make me roll in laughter. They each have their own witty sense of humor, full of sarcasm and intelligence. I love it.

Someone once told me that kids shouldn't be best friends with their parents — that it blurs the boundary lines. I wholeheartedly disagree.

As my kids get older, they are becoming people I can't wait to spend time with. I miss their company when I'm away from them and savor it when they are close by.

Although I still wish having more babies was an option, I'm content and incredibly happy to be a mother of kids that are that bit older.

• Sarah Hollingsworth is a 37-year-old mom of two in Austin.
• She experienced postpartum depression after having her first baby.
• Eight months after her baby was born, she quit her corporate job.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Sarah Hollingsworth. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I was living in San Antonio, working for an IT company, and leading their global trade show teams. I had two promotions in four years and got to travel the world. I loved my job so much.

Then I got pregnant with my first baby.

By May 2019, I gave birth to my first daughter, AJ. Just after she was born, my husband got a job that relocated our family to Austin, a little over an hour away from the city I had lived in for nine years.

I thought I would intrinsically know what to do with a baby, but it wasn't like that. I quickly discovered there were so many things I wasn't prepared for. Like when I brought AJ home for the first time, I was frantically crying and hysterical because I didn't have any newborn clothes. I didn't even know they existed.

I want back to work after 3 months of maternity leave

My husband took paternity leave, and my mother came to town to help me with the baby, but I was still struggling. Breastfeeding was very painful, and AJ was a horrible sleeper. My hormones were out of whack, my world had shifted, I was isolated in a new city, and small things would set me over the edge. Everything scared me. I don't remember feeling any joy as a new mom until AJ was 1.

At the time, I convinced myself that how I was feeling was normal, but looking back, I was depressed.

Looking back, I wish I had done this to identify that something was wrong. I wasn't even meeting my own self-care and basic needs. I had literally stopped brushing my teeth — that wasn't normal; it was a red flag.

After three months of maternity leave, I went back to work. Remote working wasn't a thing at the time. I was expected to work from the office in San Antonio.

I would wake up at 6 a.m. to get on the road by 7 a.m. in order to be at the shuttle stop by 7:35 a.m. I'd be at the office from 8:30 a.m., working all day until 3 p.m. I often pumped breast milk on the shuttle and at work. On the way home, I collected my daughter from day care and would have 30 minutes with her before putting her to sleep.

I felt like I was neglecting my kid.

I was afraid to tell people how I was feeling

My body started to show signs of stress. I broke out in bumps and blisters all over my hands, melasma, and had severe Perioral Dermatitis on my face. It was humiliating to go to work.

At my lowest point, in January 2020, I remember driving to work, because I had missed the shuttle, wondering what would happen if I hit the car in front of me. I didn't necessarily want to die, but I couldn't see a way out of the situation I was in. I felt desperate.

No one at work knew what I was going through. One of my bosses didn't have kids, and my other boss had kids in high school. I had no idea how to broach that topic with either of them.

I was afraid to tell my husband, friends, and family how I felt. I didn't want people to distrust me when I was around AJ.

But after a week, I found the courage to tell my husband. His initial reaction was: "How can I help?"

He found me a therapist, and we started having discussions about continuing to work in the corporate world. I literally felt like I was dying, going back and forth to the office every day.

At the end of January 2020, I quit my job. Within three weeks, all of my postpartum symptoms and depression were alleviated.

As I started to get better, I imagined a business I'd like to run — a baby registry complemented by content to support new mothers. When you're not in a good head space after having a baby, this platform could be a simplified destination where you could find information about preparing your mind and body to welcome a new baby into the house. I wanted to help women avoid getting caught off guard like I was. I desperately needed something like this, so I wanted to see if I could create it. I went on to create Poppylist.

As much as I loved my corporate job, it just wasn't sustainable as a new mother. I wanted to have it all, but I came to realize I couldn't, not all at once.

• Victor Nascimento is a 38-year-old screenwriter living in São Paulo
• He traveled to Rio de Janeiro and saw Lady Gaga perform at her free concert.
• He booked a hotel and flights in March, guaranteeing he'd get to see Lady Gaga.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Victor Nascimento. It has been edited for length and clarity.

In February, I heard Lady Gaga might be coming to Rio de Janeiro to perform a concert for people to attend for free in May. I knew I wanted to be there for it.

In May 2024, I was at Madonna's Rio performance — it was a once-in-a-lifetime event. Nothing like it had ever been done before in Rio.

Watching Lady Gaga over the weekend was perfect because we planned ahead.

We booked hotel rooms for 4 weekends before she confirmed the date

In March, to guarantee I would have a hotel booked to see Lady Gaga, my group of eight gay friends booked four weekends at a hotel in Rio, knowing we could cancel the weekends we wouldn't need once we found out the confirmed date of the concert.

It was confirmed that the concert would be on May 3^rd, so we booked our flights and canceled the hotel reservations we wouldn't need.

We flew into Rio on Thursday because it was Labor Day here in Brazil. I did a little bit of work on Friday morning, and then in the afternoon, around 2:00 p.m., we headed to the beach to enjoy the perfect weather.

Everyone on the beach was talking about how Lady Gaga was going to have to do a rehearsal and sound check on the beach, so we waited around all day, hoping we'd see her.

We saw her rehearsal pretty close

At 8 p.m., she started her rehearsal and performed the entire concert. We were so close to the stage, at the first screen. People were running from the streets, screaming with excitement to hear her. It was almost as great as watching the concert itself.

Already, people were saving spots for the next day. They were superfans in war mode.

On Saturday, we didn't leave our hotel until 6 p.m. because the hotel was only a 15-minute walk from the beach. We didn't have to get on a subway or go through checkpoints. It was really easy.

We went for drinks, but didn't drink much because we didn't want to have to run back and forth to the toilet during the show, and then walked to the third screen to wait for the show to start. We stood unmoving for hours until Lady Gaga came out at nearly 10 p.m. We made friends with people around us, sharing food with each other — it had a community feel.

But I know that my experience of getting in wasn't the same as everyone's. Packed transport, security checks, and long lines made it really difficult for a lot of people to get onto the beach.

The show was incredible

Once she started performing, we watched, jumped, and screamed for two and a half hours. It was incredible. People were dressed like Lady Gaga, crying through the concert.

Everyone surrounding me was either LGBTQ+ or a supporter of the community. It was such a special moment — to see 2 million people waving the LGBTQ+ flag, especially right now.

Instead of fighting the crowds to leave, we stayed and watched the after-show, a DJ, until the beach had cleared out. When we left to get food, the beach was much quieter. I finally got back to the hotel at 3 a.m.

I spent about $700 for 5 days in Rio

I left on Monday and had the very best weekend. I wouldn't change anything. I think the reason my experience was so good was because I planned so far in advance. It was a perfect weekend — something I'll never forget.

The city paid for the concert to revitalise Rio's economy. During my five-day stay, I spent around $700 on hotels, travel, parties, food, and drinks.

The concert transformed a weekend in May that otherwise would have had nothing happening. But instead, they put on a highly anticipated event that brought a lot of tourists in, who spent money.

It wasn't just good for Rio's economy — it's great for Rio. Everyone online was talking about the city.

There are talks that Beyoncé might be coming next year, and if that's the case, I'll be here, with the same friends.

• Ana Sheppard is a 35-year-old mom who decided to hire two babysitters for her son's birthday party.
• She put a specific advertisement out about what help she was looking for.
• Two babysitters spent over five hours decorating and keeping the kids safe, among other things.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Ana Sheppard, who finds and posts about fun places in London to go with kids. It has been edited for length and clarity.

For my son's seventh birthday, I rented out a community space in an art gallery, initially thinking I would just invite some of his friends for a science-themed party.

The venue turned out to be quite big, so we decided to invite all the kids he is in school with. After I'd sent out the invites, I panicked about the thought of entertaining 60 children for two hours. If parents dropped their kids, rather than sticking around, I was going to be responsible for their safety and for them having a good time. I knew I would need more hands on deck to help.

Even though I knew my family would be there to help, I also knew that familial help can sometimes lead to unmet expectations, frustration, and tension. Plus, I wanted my family to enjoy the party too.

I hired 2 babysitters

I booked an entertainer, but wasn't sure even he could keep all the children occupied. I'd previously teamed up for work with a childcare app in the UK called Bubble and had the idea to book babysitters to come along and help with the party.

In the advertisement, I let applicants know I would need two people for five hours to help decorate, take photos, make sure the kids were fed, safe, and having a good time, and just generally help if I needed anything done during the science party. I wrote that I just wanted someone who would make sure everyone was happy and comfortable, even the parents that came along.

I ended up choosing two women for the job.

As soon as they arrived at the venue two hours prior to the start of the party, I knew I'd made a good decision. They showed up, and with a short briefing, they started decorating alongside me.

When a handful of kids showed up early, one of the babysitters took them to the park nearby. I knew they'd be safe because this was someone qualified to take care of kids. It wasn't just an older sibling or friend's child. It gave us an extra 30 minutes to make sure everything was ready.

They took care of all the guests

During the party, they took great initiative to take care of all the guests. If a child looked left out, they made sure they felt included. When one little boy fell and hurt his knee a bit, someone other than me could manage to make sure he was taken care of. If a child's cup was empty, they'd fill it with water. They were so good with the kids.

They were also amazing with parents. If one of the parents had an empty glass of prosecco, the two babysitters offered to top up their drinks. They'd see me offering food or drinks, and they would do the same without being asked.

Perhaps I could have paid a catering company to do similar tasks, but I wouldn't have known if they'd be comfortable or capable around kids. It was also much cheaper to hire babysitters than caterers.

It was also cheaper to hire babysitters than to hire a photographer.

Throughout the party, both babysitters took photographs of all the fun. I'd previously priced up a photographer because I didn't want to be responsible for taking pictures — I just wanted to enjoy the moment. A professional photographer would have cost twice the price for half the hours. The photos they both took were incredible too. They captured the best parts of the party.

I was able to enjoy the party

At the end of the party, people asked who the babysitters were, commenting on how delightful and helpful they were.

With so much help, I could relax and enjoy the party more than if they hadn't been there. All the pressure would have been on me otherwise. Everyone — my family, my son, and all the guests — had a good time, and it was in large part due to the babysitters.

In the spring, my son has his Holy Communion. I'm planning to hire another babysitter to help me with the celebration, even though only six kids will be coming along.

• Coco Mocoe, 29, bought a single ticket to see Beyoncé's first concert of her Cowboy Carter tour.
• After trying to figure out where her seat was in the stadium, security upgraded her seat.
• She could see the details of each costume and watch as Beyoncé was buckled into the flying horseshoe.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Coco Mocoe. It has been edited for length and clarity.

Three days before Beyoncé's Cowboy Carter tour kicked off at SoFi Stadium in Inglewood, California, I bought a ticket to see her.

I'd never seen her in person, and was so excited at the thought of seeing her perform after she'd won her first album of the year at the Grammys — a win I predicted. I felt like the concert would be a historic moment for her, and I was excited to see her live.

I didn't expect what happened once I arrived at the stadium.

I bought my ticket from a reseller

I paid $408 for a ticket from a reseller on Ticketmaster and was informed I might not get the ticket until the day of the concert. In the end, the tickets weren't released to me until just a few hours before the concert started, which made me nervous on the day of.

Arriving in plenty of time before the concert started, I was confused about where my seat was. The security guards put me in another section — still on the floor, just in a different section.

Chatting and making friends with the people around me, a couple got my attention and said they thought I was sitting in their seat. We were showing each other our tickets, trying to figure out who was meant to be where. I felt embarrassed, thinking everyone thought I had taken a seat that wasn't mine.

I asked the security guards for help, and they were getting different people involved to figure out what to do. With all the confusion, I was nervous I would miss the concert's start.

Security moved me up to a better seat

A manager eventually appeared and apologized for the confusion. "We're going to hook you up," he said. "Your seat is going to be even better." I'm guessing it was easier to adjust my seat because I was there as a single person.

Security directed me to guest services, which gave me an updated ticket to show to the security guards. I ended up in Section B, Row 12. It was closer than my original seat, only two school buses' lengths away from the runway. As I got to my seat, Serena and Kordell from "Love Island USA" were being escorted in, mobbed by fans. I knew I was in the cool section and had been upgraded.

As the concert started, I knew I had lucked out. The runway she used for much of the concert was right in front of me.

I could see all the details from up close

I could see everything. Her brilliant costume changes — a sparkled red outfit, an LED changing dress, and a newspaper outfit. I also saw her getting buckled on the giant horseshoes that she'd fly across the stadium on.

I loved watching all of it. The audience was great — it felt like a big community of people just so happy to be there.

Taking my time leaving, I stopped to get merchandise. I hadn't planned to buy anything, but after getting so lucky, I needed a lucky charm to commemorate the evening.

Although I knew how lucky I'd been, it wasn't until the next day that I realized just how fortunate. I watched videos of people who had paid for a closer seat in the Honey Bucking Pit, saying they were disappointed because Beyoncé spent a lot of time on the runway — the runway in front of me.

I looked on StubHub and Ticketmaster to see what my seat would cost now. One of the tickets in my section is now going for $7,000.

It was an unexpected and magical night. I think I was the luckiest person in that stadium.

• Sami Wunder is a 36-year-old who has a dating and relationship coaching service.
• When she started earning more than her husband, she had to challenge her fears.
• After a series of conversations with her husband, they chose to be collaborators instead of competitors.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Sami Wunder. It has been edited for length and clarity.

When Chris and I met in 2011, we were both in the middle of completing our Master of Public Policy degrees in Germany. I remember evaluating him to see if he was the right person for me. He came from a good family, was well-educated, smart, and had traveled a lot. He had an abundant mindset and was so generous. He never made me feel I was a burden — such a gentleman.

Right after we were married, Chris got a great job offer to work at the European Space Agency in Paris, and we decided to move there for the first two years of our marriage.

While he worked a "proper job" providing for our financial needs, I took on the role of housewife, cooking and waiting for him to return home. I became extremely unhappy. I had a master's degree and was a gold medal economist — what was I doing with myself?

Chris was the one who encouraged me to start the business I had talked about — a dating and relationship coaching business for high-achieving women who were struggling with attracting a loving partner.

I started my business, and it quickly grew.

I worried about my relationship if I made more money than my husband

Having been conditioned by both society and my traditional family upbringing, I believed a man's ego was fragile — that it would be shattered if a woman made more than him.

When I started bringing home more money than Chris, I feared things in our relationship would change, that he'd get intimidated, and our marriage would collapse because I was having more success. I remember briefly wondering if my respect and attraction for him would change with myself as the higher earner.

Instead of keeping my fears to myself, Chris and I had open conversations. He told me how proud he was of me and my success and that he didn't think my success diminished what he steadily brought to our relationship.

He came up with two solutions. He could set up his own company and sell digital products to prove to me that he was just as capable of earning as I was. Or we could both come to an understanding that he was still the awesome guy I married, who made money, but just not as much as I did.

I decided I would rather be in a collaborative relationship, not a competitive one. Chris didn't need to earn the same or more than I was to prove he was good enough. Me outearning him has nothing to do with his value or worth — he is still that same valuable, amazing, incredible guy. This breakthrough saved my marriage and gave me the ticket to fly as high as I wanted in my career.

He manages our investments

Even though I am a multimillionaire, Chris is still a provider for our family. He continues to work and make his own money. He plans date nights and takes care of our two kids. No matter the amount of money either one of us is making, he is still the same man I married and love.

He also amplifies my wealth, managing all our pension funds, investments, and real estate, all while continuing to work a full-time job as well.

As a high-achieving woman, I tap into my "masculine" energy when I'm working. I'm the boss babe. In my office, I'm in control, but at home and in my relationship, I've learned to just be a woman. I can receive from my husband, have feelings, and be vulnerable. When I first started to work on this habit, I would put a pearl bracelet on when I finished work as a way of anchoring me, reminding me it was time to rest and tap into surrender, playfulness, and vulnerability. Now, it's become a habit.

As my business and income continue to grow, I am confident about the beautiful place Chris and I have come to through our difficult conversations about fears.

I don't see myself as the breadwinner, and neither does Chris. We both contribute to this family as a team and as collaborators.

• Small business owners based in the US and abroad are worried about how tariffs will impact them.
• Etsy and Amazon sellers who produce stock overseas say they can't afford higher costs.
• Two business owners said they are already facing transport problems as tariffs impact shipping.

Small business owners who sell on Amazon and Etsy are having to decide what to do about President Donald Trump's tariffs which have rocked the global stock markets with the threat of increased import costs for Americans.

Business Insider spoke to three of them about how they're navigating the changing climate.

Lisa Lane

Lisa Lane sells her Rinseroo products, a line of slip-on shower hoses, out of the US but are made in China.

Lane, who started the business in 2019, told BI she is "frustrated by the misconception that these tariffs will lead to more domestic manufacturing."

For her small business, shifting production from Shanghai, China, to the US isn't feasible.

"We lack the infrastructure to do so, and outsourcing domestically would be prohibitively expensive," the 59-year-old based in New York said. "Our ability to manufacture overseas allows us to offer a high-quality product at an affordable price."

Lane told BI her business was already facing delays at US ports due to increased inspections.

"Recently, our last two containers were held for six weeks for a full inventory inspection, creating major supply chain disruptions," she said. "The delays at the port are affecting our ability to maintain adequate inventory to meet demand."

Lane said she believed this increase to be tariff-related. "They are checking to see that goods match what we claim is entering," she added.

Lane had projected the the tariffs Trump announced last week on Chinese goods would push annual cost of production up by $200,000. She said this would come out of her bottom line unless she increased costs to account for it.

"It's an enormous hit for a company with around $5 million in annual revenue," she said.

On Monday, Trump said he would add an additional 50% tariff on Chinese imports, after China retailed to Trump's tariffs saying they would impose a 34% tariff on US goods.

Lane said on Friday they weren't planning on absorbing the additional tariff. "We need to offset the cost to do business as usual," she added.

Joanna Read

Joanna Read makes historical costumes for private clients, theatrical and TV productions, and museums. The 39-year-old, based in Lincolnshire, England, said a quarter of her annual turnover is sales to the US through Etsy.

With the de minimis import threshold currently at $800 for products shipped out of the UK, she doesn't think there will be a direct impact on her sales.

The de minimis loophole means any packages entering the US valued at less than $800 are exempt from tariffs. However, President Donald Trump signed an executive order on Wednesday that will end the loophole for packages coming from China and Hong Kong as of May 2.

Trump hasn't mentioned any further changes to the loophole, but the executive order has received bipartisan support — a rarity amid the negative tariff feedback.

Read said if anything did change, "I would expect to see a significant downturn in sales."

Read said she is concerned that the confusion about UK imports into the States will deter American customers from buying from sellers like herself.

"It also goes without saying that if my American customers are facing increased costs elsewhere in their lives, then they're less likely to be spending with me," she said.

Looking long-term, Read said she focusing on growing her UK client base to make up for potential income deficits.

"It's always a background worry when you are a small, even micro, business if your potential audience shrinks," she said. "It seems such a shame in our shared global community that things seem to be becoming more and more insular."

Bernie Thompson

Bernie Thompson runs Plugable, a Washington-based company that designs and sells computer accessories on Amazon and their online storefront.

Thompson told BI they are preparing for tariffs to have a huge impact on their business if they remain in place. "There is nowhere for this pressure to go other than pushing up prices," he said.

Plugable started moving their production out of China to other countries in Asia nearly ten years ago, in part because of 2018 tariffs on Chinese goods.

Thompson had thought majority of his production pipeline would be unaffected as it comes from Vietnam, Taiwan, and Thailand, but on April 2, that changed. Now with the new tariffs, he told BI he's looking at taxes of over a third of the value of his imports.

"These tariffs are several times as large as our net profits on these goods. These orders are commitments to our partners," Thompson said.

Thompson said the most immediate impact was air freight congestion as sellers are rushing to get stock into the US before tariffs come into effect on Wednesday.

The electronics business owner said he's trying to protect his customers and staff from the knock-on impacts of tariffs: "We have over 50 full-time employees in the US and Canada. We're an American-owned company. That said, the numbers at play are larger than the margins of our business, so in time, we're forced to pass through all of the effects."

Thompson said he'd love to be an innovator for efficient, automated production in the US, but those plans would be "years in the making."

• Ameenah Thobani is a 48-year-old clinical hypnotherapist in Vancouver.
• She started having perimenopausal symptoms in her early 40s.
• She wakes at 4 a.m. every morning and repeats positive affirmations about herself.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Ameenah Thobani. It has been edited for length and clarity.

Before my dad died last year, I remember him flicking through my wedding photos from 23 years prior and commenting on how young he looked — how he used to be so healthy and energetic. He had changed. He was no longer the young man in those photos.

But for years, he had been. It was only when he started to tell himself and verbalize how tired he was that he became tired and seemed to age more rapidly.

Perimenopause left me drained

Around the age of 43, I began experiencing perimenopausal symptoms, starting with sudden episodes of unexplained rage. Over time, these symptoms expanded to include irregular bleeding, severe fatigue, and debilitating migraines. There were days when simply getting out of bed felt impossible, deeply affecting my daily life and emotional health. Negative self-talk about my body and health further intensified my struggles during this period.

At 45, I thought about all the years before perimenopause that I had felt well nearly all the time. I didn't have any health issues, was on no medication, and felt good most of the time. But even then, all I focused on was my weight. I spent my "good years" ungrateful for the body I'd had — only concerned with how I looked, thinking beauty was only to be found in being a certain size.

As I watched my dad regret taking all those younger years of his life for granted, I wanted to make sure I didn't do the same. I wanted to learn to appreciate the moment and how my body is currently rather than focusing on what I don't like about it.

I express my thankfulness to my body

In 2022, I started to retrain how I thought about my body. From my work, I know that you can retrain your brain, but it takes effort and time.

I now go to bed early every night and wake up at 4 a.m. to meditate, connecting to the source of all my energy. I intentionally acknowledge my body, express thankfulness for it, and remember I have to take care of it.

Next, I look in the mirror and brush my teeth with my left hand (my dominant hand is my right — using my left-hand makes my mind focus on what I'm saying to ingrain it into my thought pattern) while repeating affirmations.

"I am healthy, wealthy, and divine," I say. "Everything comes to me in perfect time. I shine bright like the sun. I am vibrating in abundance and health and wellness."

Instead of focusing on all that is going wrong with my body, I focus on its health and ability.

Another way I stay grateful is by imagining I am 90 years old and getting to wake up in my 48-year-old body again. It leaves me feeling grateful and bubbling with energy. After all, I've got another 40 years to live! I'm not going to spend my time worrying about my body — there's so much more to life!

As I became more appreciative of my body, I wanted to take care of it. I spoke with my doctor about the symptoms I was experiencing, and she gave me the option of HRT. I eventually decided to try it, and my symptoms alleviated.

Even in the middle of perimenopause, I am grateful for my body and all it is able to do, aware that one day, I'll reflect on my body at 48 with joy.

• Leila Green is a 41-year-old mom of 2-year-old triplets living in England.
• She had to learn how to feed and get three babies to sleep alone, which triggered anxiety.
• Mom guilt has been a constant battle she is now fighting back against.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Leila Green. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I remember a paralyzing shock running through me when I found out I would be having triplets. My husband and I went for a scan to check for a heartbeat, sitting in the same waiting room we previously sat in the two times we found out I had miscarried.

Lying down on the table to be scanned by the sonographer, I could tell something was up. I desperately tried not to freak out, recalling the bad news we'd had in my last two pregnancies.

The sonographer flipped the monitor for us to see. "We've got heartbeats," he said. "There are three of them."

I struggled with guilt

We planned that I'd have a C-section with 28 doctors and nurses in the room — a team for me and a team for each of the babies.

Although I knew in advance that the babies would be taken straight to the NICU, I didn't realize how traumatic it would be to be separated from my babies. We'd been a team — the three of them in me — for months, and then they were just taken away. It felt so wrong.

A few days after they were born, two of my babies had to be moved to a different hospital, while the one other baby and I stayed in the original hospital. That was the worst day of my life. I just didn't imagine this would be my start to motherhood.

Five weeks after they were born, I brought two babies home, leaving my one child who needed more support in the hospital. This is the point where mom guilt set in for the first time.

I could never be in more than one place at a time. If I was feeding the babies at home, I wasn't feeding the baby in the hospital. There was never enough mommy to go around. There didn't seem to be a winning option — I just felt I was always letting one of them down.

Finally, at nearly six weeks, all of my babies were home. My husband and I were new to parenting and didn't know what we were doing with one baby, let alone three.

We hired help

We set up a cot and a changing station downstairs and upstairs.

Feeds, a combination of breast milk and formula, happened every three hours. They all fed at the same time. I'd breastfeed one while the other two fed from a bottle in their bassinet. We used a muslin blanket to prop the bottle in place for the two in the bassinets, arranging that they could turn away when they didn't want anymore.

I had huge amounts of anxiety around feed times. Whenever someone wanted to visit, I tried to make sure they came during a feed so I wasn't doing it alone.

From a very early age, we had a strict bedtime routine and overnight schedule — something suggested by a maternity nurse we hired to help us for a week when we all arrived home. We were militant and inflexible because anything that would give us a minute more sleep was worth doing.

We tried to keep them all on the same schedule overnight, which meant when one woke up for a feeding, we fed them all. Otherwise, we'd be getting one back to sleep just as another woke.

Those moments in the middle of the night, when I was just exhausted and wanted to sleep — I felt like I was going to break. I remember times when one would roll over or whack each other in the face, waking everyone up — it was soul-destroying.

I needed 6 figures to cover the costs of day care

One of our best decisions was to hire a nanny to come in from 6 a.m. to 9 a.m. a few mornings a week. That way I knew, even if I had a terrible night, I could catch up on sleep if she was there.

Once the kids turned 1, I started looking at the possibility of returning to work. I had co-founded a company alongside my brother. I worked out that I would have to make at least £85,000 (around $109,400) just to break even on the nursery fees.

While I know a lot of women will do this for a number of reasons, I decided it wasn't something I was willing to do.

My career had been an integral part of my identity, so I had to go through stages of grief until I finally accepted it was over. It was a huge cost I paid in having triplets.

Because we live in the UK, we qualified for 15 hours of free childcare in September 2024 when the babies were 2.

I'm using the time for exercise and building a new brand, "F*** Mum Guilt," which will host events for moms about mom guilt.

It has been amazing to have the time and brain space to think about and build a brand from scratch — to have time to do something for me and other moms.

Now that they are toddlers, we're facing a new set of challenges.

The other day, the three of them worked out how to push a brother over the stair gate at their bedroom to go downstairs, pull a chair up to a top cupboard to get the cookies, and then bring them back to distribute to the two left behind. It's like they are ganging up on me.

The relentless illnesses have also been a challenge. Whatever one of them gets, they all get. Theoretically, they are enrolled in 15 hours of childcare, but they seem to rarely be there because they are always ill.

Most of the time, I'm just firefighting — sorting out everything that needs to get done. I naturally think about all the things I'm failing at, but when I have moments to reflect on the last two years, I consider that I have raised three babies at the same time. And now I'm raising three toddlers. That's pretty incredible.

• Barbara Bawer is a primary care physician at The Ohio State University Wexner Medical Center.
• She has heard from her patients about the challenges in returning to work.
• She recommends a healthy diet, sleeping well, hydration, working from home when sick, and exercising.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Dr Barbara Bawer, a primary care physician at The Ohio State University Wexner Medical Center. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I'm regularly hearing from patients, other providers, and friends that more and more people are being told to return to the office for work.

While people look forward to increased socialization, they are worried about maintaining the wellness routines they developed at home.

Many of the routines established when working from home go out the window, so staying healthy at the office can require work and plenty of planning.

Here are five ways to take care of yourself as you get back to the office.

Eat a healthy, balanced diet

Meal planning and prepping are essential if you want to eat well when you're working at the office.

Consider using the weekends to prepare lunchtime meals for yourself that include vegetables, fruits, proteins, and starches. If you're working five days a week, you aren't going to get home from a long day and want to prep for lunch the next day.

Having nutritious meals available will keep you from grabbing that fast food or the sweet snacks coworkers bring in.

If you get hungry throughout the day, keep snacks like nuts, veggies, healthy dips, boiled eggs, cheese, or meat near your desk.

Stay hydrated

At home, you probably have easy access to water or your choice of drink. You have to do a little more work in the office to stay hydrated.

Bring a large bottle to drink from throughout the day, and set gentle reminders on your phone to remind you to keep drinking.

Drinking lots of water will keep you full, stop you from overeating, and give you energy.

Keep an eye on how much caffeine you're drinking, too. Excess caffeine could make you overstimulated and affect your mood at work.

Keep an eye on your sleep

Experts generally recommend between seven and nine hours of sleep every night. Although you may function with only four hours, that doesn't mean it's all your body needs.

Sleeping supports your immune system, and helps your body heal from any issues that happened the day before. Without enough sleep, you get hungrier and have more cravings, and the stress hormone cortisol tends to spike.

Heading back to the office, you may have to think about getting up earlier to prepare for and physically get to work. If sleep is important to you, you've got to plan to make time for it.

Exercise is key

Forget the weight loss component — exercise can help overall well-being. It helps with circulation, boosts your immune system, improves mood, and keeps your heart and lungs active.

You might be tempted to just work through your lunch break at the office, but consider going outside and taking a walk. You'll get vitamin D, and the air will be good for your mental clarity.

You could park further away from the office to get steps in, or you could even just walk to see a colleague down the hall. Just short bursts of movement get the blood flow moving, preventing clots. It's all motion, and all counts.

Scheduling in exercise is really important — treat it like a meeting.

Stay home from work when you're sick

Ideally, you should stay home when you're sick, especially if you have a fever. Your immune system is already compromised, so you might pick up something else at the office. You also want to avoid spreading whatever virus you might have.

It isn't always straightforward because some employers require a physician's note to stay home from work for a given number of days, and others might not even accept physician notes.

You might also be able to work from home. Check your options when you get sick.

• Lawayne Dacosta is a 36-year-old mom to eight-year-old Londyn White, living in Atlanta.
• The mom and daughter recently scrolled through baby photos and realized they all had filters.
• While Lawayne regrets that she didn't take more unfiltered pictures.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Lawayne Dacosta. It has been edited for length and clarity.

My 8-year-old daughter, Londyn, recently had a school project for which she needed a baby photo. They were going to play a guess-that-baby game in class.

We sat down to flick through photos on my phone from when she was a baby and toddler, and there were so many photos that had been filtered on Snapchat — more than the number of unfiltered photos I had of her.

She thought they were funny

The app had been around for a few years, and everyone loved taking funny pictures with it. The flower headband was very in at the time. But I had never used the app much before Londyn was born.

I saved all the photos we had taken, and as we scrolled through them, Londyn particularly loved the one with a "for sale" sign.

"You were trying to sell me?" she asked, joking.

She also thought the one of her with a mustache was hilarious.

There wasn't any part of her that disliked all the filtered photos. She is quite familiar with filters now. It's part of her culture — the funny filters, cutesy ones, colored and monster ones. She and all her friends like to use them for fun.

The one thing she did ask was why there were so many baby pictures.

I used the filters to keep her entertained

During those baby days, we had endless time together. Playing around with the filters gave me something to do with her on what could sometimes be long days. Many photos were clearly taken on the same day, in the same clothes, having fun with all the different filters.

As she got older, I used interactive filters — like she would stick her tongue out, then you'd get a rainbow. It was like a game for us to play together.

The filters were also a way to hide myself and protect her. When I first had her, I wanted people to see her but I didn't want to send her picture out to everyone. Instead, I sent people photos of her with a cute little filter on it.

I rarely did my hair or makeup when she was just born, so the filtered photos gave me a chance to be in photos but cover up a bit. I could mask what I had going on.

I've mainly worked from home while Londyn has been little. She never went to day care, so I entertained her and found fun things to do together. We became so close.

We create content together now that she's older

As my daughter grew older, we continued using technology and apps to have fun and be creative together. We're digital creators together on Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube now. I learn so much from her, and she learns so much from me as we are creative together. She knows what she wants to make and leads the way. These are moments of her life I love getting to be part of.

I don't regret taking filtered photos — I had a lot of fun with them and so did my daughter as she got older. It laid a foundation for the fun we'd continue to have with each other.

But I have to admit, I do wish I had taken pictures without filters. Sometimes, I go back through photos and think how cute she looked at a certain stage, but I realize I don't have any photos of her in that stage without filters. It's only a tiny bit of regret.

• Mekela Watt is a 29-year-old in Bermuda Dunes, California, who was laid off in April 2024.
• For 300 days, she was unemployed, worried about how she would pay for food, rent, and bills.
• She has just started a new job and shares what she most looks forward to.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Mekela Watt. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I worked as a temp client services associate at a global music company for nearly two years when I got laid off. Since I was a temp, I didn't get any severance or benefits, but in California, temp workers qualify for six months of unemployment.

That first month of unemployment was a huge relief. I had hated that job — just logging on was triggering. But by the second month, although I was glad not to work a job I hated, I started worrying about how I would pay my bills.

I was unemployed for 300 days before finally securing a job in February 2025 as an Administrative Coordinator. I'm looking forward to these things with my new job.

Not worrying about bills

I have multiple health issues and payments for those issues I've had to ignore over the past 10 months. For example, right before I was laid off, I had an MRI that cost $500, and I haven't been able to pay that bill yet.

Rent was another expense we had to worry about. I thought we would be evicted from our house several times, especially when my husband wasn't working. Living with this fear kept me up at night. If we were evicted, we would have no housing options.

Not having to rely on GoFundMe to stay afloat

In August 2024, after months of unemployment, I set up a GoFundMe. I started it after we received a notice that our rent was going up, and I wasn't sure how we would manage.

It was embarrassing and a little defeating to set it up, but we had to survive. We received a little over $9,000, which significantly helped us from August to November.

I've never lived paycheck to paycheck, so taking out most of my savings to pay for bills has been worrying. Our financial padding kept getting thinner and thinner. I knew that we were close to having nothing to fall back on.

Not applying to jobs

Even though I had done everything people told me to do when applying for jobs, spending hours tailoring my résumé for applications and trying to form a personal connection, I was still getting endless rejection letters.

It made me question my worth and ability. I remember thinking if I was any good and asking myself if I was fired because of my quality of work.

I can keep my side hustle, and my husband doesn't have to work overtime

For years prior, I had resold pre-loved clothing. It was a fun little side hustle. When I tried to scale it to full time work while I was off a job, I realized it wasn't sustainable. It was no longer fun. I can keep doing it for fun now that I have a paycheck.

I'm also excited that my husband doesn't have to work overtime for weeks on end. When our GoFundMe money ran out, my husband worked constantly to pay our bills and was always exhausted.

I'm looking forward to being able to sleep again. For so long, I've fallen asleep, waking through the night worried about money.

During my unemployment, I received many well-meaning platitudes from people, such as, "This is God's plan. He'll provide." None of it helped.

I would have loved someone to tell me my worth wasn't tied to employment status and that surviving unemployment was proof of my resilience.

I cannot wait to be thriving rather than just surviving.

• Katie Zicarelli Gesell is a 34-year-old grief therapist who lives in Phoenix
• Her late wife unexpectedly died in 2018 after less than a year of marriage.
• When Katie was sick, her new spouse brought her the blanket of her late wife for comfort.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Katie Zicarelli Gesell. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I met Melissa, my first wife, when she contacted me online about my blog on long-distance relationships. When we met for the first time in 2015 our connection was instant. Conversation flowed and it felt like we had known each other forever. We started dating, and by 2017, we were married.

We decided on November 11 as our wedding date because we'd always text "I love you" when the clock read 11:11. It was a beautiful wedding at an outdoor nature center in Michigan. I was in my final year of grad school, and we were excited to spend time together without the added pressure of school. I loved Melissa so much, but it was shorter-lived than I would have hoped for.

She died shortly after

Only 10 months after we married, on September 3rd, 2018, Melissa suddenly died of cardiac arrest at only 27 years old. It was completely unexpected. Time just seemed frozen.

I lived in this complete fog, unable to fully understand what had happened. Even now, I don't have many memories from the first three months after she died. I'd show up to work and stare at my computer screen, unable to function.

Melissa and I had a mutual friend, Emily, who checked up on me after Melissa's death. She was always there and became a huge source of support for me through my grief.

I remember when we were in college, Emily and I had unsaid feelings for one another. Those feelings returned when we started spending more time together after Melissa's death. We started dating in June 2019 and were married in October 2022.

My new wife never tried to erase my memories with my late wife

Throughout our relationship, Emily has never tried to erase my memories or love for Melissa.

In January 2025, I was really sick in bed with nausea. Emily came into the room and told me she had something for me. I thought it would be our cat. But then I saw it was Melissa's Mexican-style blanket. "I brought this for you because this always gives you comfort when you're not feeling good," Emily told me as she covered me with it, tucking me in. It was no different than if she would have brought me any other comfort object. Such a sweet, simple gesture.

Melissa loved that blanket. After she died, I slept with it every night, eventually putting it away so the cats wouldn't chew at it. I often get it out and wrap myself in it through the autumn when I'm reminded of Melissa's birthday, her death, and our wedding anniversary.

I also often wear Melissa's ring. In fact, I wore the ring when Emily and I had engagement and wedding photos taken. I now use "Zicarelli" as my middle name — previously my last name when married to Melissa.

Emily has never been threatened by the comfort I find in that blanket, ring, my name change, or any memories of Melissa.

I love her more for that

When I wrote about Emily's lack of jealousy of my late spouse on Threads, I was surprised by the positive responses. In the past, I've been told it was disrespectful to my current partner to remember my past partner with such fondness — that I needed to move on. But not one person on Threads had a negative comment to say. It was really refreshing.

Nora McInerny, an author and widow I love, once said, "Love is not a competition, and a dead person is not much of a competitor." That's the way it should be in a new relationship with someone who has lost a spouse or partner. Emily often jokes, asking what she has to be jealous of — she knows I can't leave her for my dead wife.

I believe that if you are going to be with someone who has been widowed, then you've got to know you are signing up to love someone who will always also love someone else. You must embrace that part of them, just as you'd embrace any other part of who they are.

Emily has let me love and remember Melissa without letting it threaten my love for her. And I love her all the more for it.

• Juliet Stebbings walks a marathon every weekend with her son Harry, a prominent VC in London.
• She said she has always been close with her two sons thanks to learning about their interests.
• Stebbings shares the lessons she's learned raising two successful children.

This as-told-to essay is based on a transcribed conversation with Juliet Stebbings, the mother of Harry Stebbings, a prominent VC based in London and Charlie Stebbings, the host of "Business of Sport" podcast. The following has been edited for length and clarity

When I found out I was pregnant with my oldest, Charlie, I gave up my full-time job to be a mother. It wasn't a moral decision. I just adored children and adored being a mother. It wasn't a difficult choice for me.

Now that Harry and Charlie are adults, Charlie with a family of his own, I still work to connect with both the boys. Harry is a founder and managing partner of 20VC, a successful venture capital firm, and Charlie hosts the podcast "Business of Sport."

We still have a family holiday on the Essex coast each year, and I often make Sunday roasts for everyone to come enjoy. I'll talk to them on the phone throughout the week.

In lockdown, Harry and I were in the same bubble and started walking together. I was diagnosed with MS in 2009. I'd always been fit, but the doctors told me I had to rest. I wasn't able to run anymore, but I could walk, and I did it often with Harry.

These walks continued past lockdown. Every Saturday, Harry and I walk around London. In 2024, we walked 34 marathons together. In 2025, we will walk 52 — one a week. The time commitment is great, but it's never been a question.

Having a close relationship with my sons that involves lots of communication has impacted their development. It has given them grounding, security, and confidence.

I've tried to make a habit of quality time with my kids from an early age

I had Charlie when I was 28 and Harry two and a half years later.

As a girly girl with two boys, I had two options: either get left out or join in. I learned football, rugby, and cricket. I took them to watch airplanes take off at Heathrow. I'd collect them from school, and we'd have dinner around the table most evenings. These were precious times to hear them download about their days.

Charlie went to boarding school at 13, followed by Harry. I started working three days a week, making sure I still had time to see them on weekends. It was difficult to let them go.

Being a big part of their lives and listening to what they had to say has always been a priority. Parents are busy, but I always had 10 minutes to sit down, go for a walk, or have a cup of coffee together — just to listen. I think it's had a positive effect on their development as adults.

I learn my children's interests so I can have useful conversations with them

Though the boys are very close, they have always been different. Harry has been finance-oriented since he was 14, while Charlie wanted to have a career in sports.

I've never tried to make them into something they aren't. Instead, I embraced who they were and supported them in doing what they wanted. I don't think I shaped their career paths, I just tried to build their confidence.

When they were kids, I tried to expose them to what they were interested in. Whatever they were interested in, I learned about, so I could discuss with them.

When they were doing English exams at school, I would read the books they were studying so I could talk about them in the car. When Charlie showed an interest in sports, I learned all about Ronaldo.

I do the same now — learning about banking systems so I can talk to Harry about it on a walk. Sometimes it sounds like he is speaking a different language it's so technical. But now I've learned more about venture capital, I can ask him better questions and give him a different perspective. I listen to cricket on the radio, so that I can talk to Charlie about it. It's fantastic and gives us much more to talk about.

They also make an effort to show interest in what I love. Harry knows so much about Chanel and fashion. It's my passion. I think it's really important that they learn to listen as well as be heard.

Giving my kids space meant they came back to me

Although our bond was and is close, I've never been a helicopter parent. I knew if I wanted them to come back, I had to let them go. Although I had boundaries as a parent, I also trusted my kids.

After Harry's first term studying law, he told me university wasn't working for him. He told me he'd be wasting three years if he stayed in school. Instead, he planned a self-funded trip to San Francisco at 19, knowing he had a few contacts in venture capital out there.

I told him I would help him get back to London if he needed me. Kids need to know that you're always their mum and that you're always there for them. Security is important for them.

I trusted him when he left university for San Francisco. This opportunity helped him fulfill his dreams of working in VC. The trip introduced him to another level of working. He came home adopting the mindset, "Be so good they can't ignore you."

I've tried to strike a balance between being protective and supportive as my kids grow. We've always been close, but our relationship has evolved with age.

No matter what my children did with their lives, they knew I would be proud of them if they were happy, doing what they wanted, and working their hardest.

• LaVina Hawkins is a 45-year-old who lives in Gaithersburg, Maryland.
• When she was 9, she went to her first sleepover and was teased by the other girls.
• She called her mom and asked if she'd come pick her up.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with LaVina Hawkins. It has been edited for length and clarity.

When I was 9, I got my first invitation to a sleepover. We had just moved from the Bronx to Virginia Beach. The birthday girl gave cute invitations to the girls in my class. I knew my mom wouldn't let me — that I would be the only one who wouldn't be allowed to go.

My mom had always been very strict about sleepovers. All my siblings knew it wasn't a question — we were never allowed to stay at someone else's house. My mom had experienced things as a child, and she wanted to protect us from the same happening to us.

When I told the birthday girl I knew I wouldn't be allowed to go, she said she could ask her mom to call my mom. The mom called my mom and said there would be no men or boys at the house for the sleepover. My mom conceded — I could go. I was ecstatic. The invitation had a little list of what we would need, including a sleeping bag. Since I didn't have one, we bought one ready.

I was so excited. I'd only heard about sleepovers and seen them on TV, and they looked really fun.

Before I went, my mom told me I could call her if I didn't feel safe or just didn't want to be at the sleepover anymore. She'd be there right away to pick me up.

I called her, and she came as promised

When I arrived, I knew most of the girls there, besides a few of the girl's family members. The mother ordered pizza, which was shaping up to be a good time.

After the pizza, we went upstairs, and as I got to the top, the birthday girl's cousin pushed me into the wall. Then, she started talking about how my braids were ugly, asking me why I had them in my hair. Everyone else started following the cousin's lead in making fun of my hair.

I didn't fight back but I did run downstairs and told the mother. She called all the girls downstairs and tried to handle it, but when I returned upstairs, it was radio silence. No one would speak to me. I'd become an outsider. It felt awful to be excluded after having been invited.

All I could think to do was phone my mom.

I went downstairs and used the home phone to call her.

"Mom, come get me," I said.

"I'm on my way," she replied.

She didn't ask what happened — she just said she was coming. I felt so safe.

Minutes later, she knocked on the door, and I got my things and left with her.

Once we were in the car, she asked what happened. She told me sometimes people are afraid of what they don't know. She said everything was OK — that I was safe. We went out for ice cream and then watched movies together.

She reminded me that she would always show up for me when needed

Throughout our childhood, my mom kept saying the same thing to myself and my siblings — that she would come to pick us up if ever we felt unsafe and needed her.

I remember when I was in high school, I had been out with friends of friends and everyone had been drinking. One person said they would drive us. I said I would call my mom to come get me. The friend I was with didn't want me to, but I told her that it didn't matter where we were or what we were doing; my mom would come get us without asking a single question.

Mom came and got me. The friends whose car I refused to get in ended up getting in a car accident that night. The driver died.

Years later, when my second child was just a few months old, I was struggling with postpartum depression. I woke up one morning and felt awful, like checking out. I didn't want to feed my child.

But I wasn't ashamed to call my mom. She wouldn't judge me. She would just come. "Mom, come get me," I told her over the phone. She knew from my voice something was off.

"I'm on the way," she said. She kept me on the phone until she got to my house.

With my own five children, I've told them the same thing my mom used to tell me. They can always call me, and I will come get them, no matter where they are.

• Lori Meo is a 56-year-old mom of young adult children in Rhode Island.
• Her children still live in the family home, and she does not charge them rent.
• Since her kids turned 18, they could have boyfriends and girlfriends sleep over.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Lori Meo. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I was raised in a super liberal, open home, but my husband was raised in a much more conservative, traditional family. He and his siblings felt they had to conform to their parents' expectations, and it didn't serve any of them. I always felt I would never raise my kids that way. The choices we've made in parenting were, in part, a reaction to the type of childhood my husband had.

Now that my children are adults, we have made three parenting choices that might be controversial.

We haven't made them leave the house

When both of my children turned 18, I didn't want them to feel like I was pushing them out the door. I've always had the mentality that I don't care when they leave or if they never leave. Some people tell their kids that when they turn 18, they need to find a place to live and make their own lives. That seems crazy to me.

Neither of my kids has ever left home. My rule was that they would either have to work or go to school. I would never allow them to stay home all day playing video games. They started working full-time as soon as they left high school, so I was happy for them to live at home.

What's the rush to get them out? The economy is terrible, and we get along great.

Three years ago, we moved to a bigger house on a farm because we didn't want the kids to feel they needed to quickly move out.

We live as a group of adults in the house now. My mom also lives with us. Every night, we have a family dinner together, which also functions as a family meeting where we discuss what is happening in our lives and get feedback on decisions that need to be made.

I don't treat them like children by giving them unsolicited advice.

We'll all let each other know if we're going out and when we'll be back, but I don't monitor them. It's just living as adults with mutual respect.

I don't make them pay rent

When my first child turned 18, I told my husband I didn't think we should make him pay rent.

We briefly discussed whether we would make him pay rent and then give it back. But when he was first working, making so little money, we struggled to think of a reasonable amount we'd charge.

It would have been a different conversation if we needed the money from rent, but as we could cover everything, my husband and I were happy with the decision not to charge rent.

While the kids don't pay the mortgage, food bills, or house bills, we did have a discussion and arrived at the conclusion that they would pay for their portion of car insurance and phone bills on our family plan and save a portion of their income.

I don't want to demand anything from them, but they are considerate people and find their own ways to contribute to the household.

Because we openly communicate with each other, I know that both children are saving part of their salaries, but I don't demand to see their accounts. If they aren't saving at the rate I think it appropriate — that's on them. It's going to cost them in the long run.

We talk a lot about money at our house — they aren't shielded from the realities of the real world. They're well-educated about finances. My son has actually already been pre-approved for a mortgage and hopes to buy a house in the next couple of years.

They can bring girlfriends and boyfriends to stay overnight

When my son was 18, he started dating a girl who lived 45 minutes away from us. They would drive back and forth between houses in the early morning hours, sometimes on snowy nights. My son finally said he was just going to have his girlfriend stay overnight.

I can't say my husband and I were immediately thrilled. We talked about if we'd be OK with it. We arrived at the conclusion that it made sense to let his girlfriend stay over — they were adults.

We went on to maintain this decision. Since they both turned 18, they can have their boyfriend or girlfriend stay over whenever they want as long as it is a long-term committed relationship. This is their home, too.

Some people have asked how I know if it's a long-term relationship. While I can't know for sure, my kids know I don't want them having a date here and there staying over. They know that wouldn't fly.

I think this means they don't feel pressured to get an apartment while testing out a relationship. I hope that when they build a life with someone, it will be for the right reasons — not because they needed to get an apartment to get out of the house.