When I was 5, I sat in the back of a car holding a gallon of milk filled with pennies, while my drunk father drove us to 7/11  to get beer. As I watched the police take him away, I knew I would never feel safe again. In 6th grade,

When I was 23, my friend and I lived in a tiny apartment in the Upper East Side where we shared an inflatable mattress and used our oven as a heater. We had a tiny TV and all we could watch was Dexter, 27 Dresses, and 500 Days of Summer.

We could all take a cue from Justin Bieber and move on in a whole lot of light in lieu of darkness. So, here’s how to tell your ex ‘Go Love Yourself’: 1. Donate all of his/her favourite clothes to your local charity shop. I did this once, and to this