Select articles by Jessica Pearce Rotondi
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Lifestyle
I am 30 years old. My closets are overflowing with wool coats, shiny at the elbows from use, and belts whose leather curves approximate the shape of a woman’s waist. But the clothes don’t bear marks from my own body; they belonged to my mother, who died when I was 23.
For Refinery29
On the cusp of 30, I decided I was ready for a “room of my own” before fate or family tied me to a life of compromising on couch color. With two months to go until my birthday, I decided to embark on a year of self-discovery and cooking for one.
For Greatist
When most 20-somethings have dating questions, they call a single friend. A few might call their moms. But what if your “person” is a 60+ guy who also happens to be your dad?
For The Huffington Post
