"Don't put so much pressure on yourself," my husband comforted as I spiraled with a fit of writer's block. "You can't expect your first book to be the epitome of literature." I narrowed my eyes at him. Challenge accepted. Over the next few weeks, I'd drop famous books on the table in front of him and shout, "Debut!" as if this justified my artistic melodrama. Now, I'm going to do the same to you.
Dear 17-Year-Old Me: It's you, from the future (cue Twilight Zone music). You just got engaged. Congratulations! As you will soon find, people will be vocal about your decision to wed a month after it is legal. You'll be strangled by doubt and well-meaning warnings. Seven years down the road, here's what I can tell you about the leap you took.
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