Looking back, I’m really proud that I somehow managed to figure it out. I may have left school with a mountain of student debt and issues that are best left to a therapist, but I got my bachelor’s degree, something I thought so often about giving up and walking away from. Not only am I alive, but I found something I was good at, went to grad school, and finished at the top of my class. I often tease Peter because I have a master’s and he doesn’t—his Rhodes Scholarship covered a second bachelor’s. Nevertheless, I still have to listen to his introduction five times a day: “Harvard-educated
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