• New York health regulators say Tiger Medical smuggled alloClae into the state and lied about it.
• A court filing includes photos of boxes piled in the driveway of a New Jersey nurse who regulators allege drove the product to NYC.
• Tiger says only the FDA, not New York State, can regulate alloClae, and denied wrongdoing.

On a blustery December day, nine large white cardboard boxes sat stacked next to a garbage can in the driveway of a New Jersey nurse as a man packed them into the bed of a pickup truck.

Other than a manufacturer's label in the corner and a note that the contents were perishable and shouldn't be frozen, there was no indication they held thousands of dollars' worth of processed cadaver fat. Inside the boxes, state regulators allege, was alloClae, a hot new injectable filler derived from the fat of dead people and headed to high-end cosmetic surgeon practices in New York City.

Photos of the boxes were part of a recent court filing by New York State health officials, who have accused Tiger Medical Holdings, which manufactures and sells alloClae with its affiliates, of "smuggling" the product into New York.

Tiger has said only the Food and Drug Administration has the authority to regulate alloClae, and that FDA rules don't require premarket approval. New York is one of a handful of states that issues permission to store and distribute human tissue, and it claims that Tiger violated those rules by bringing alloClae to market without waiting for approval.

Recent court filings reveal that the state obtained FedEx records, including photos, in an attempt to prove that Tiger organized a scheme to smuggle hundreds of boxes of the product — possibly over $1 million worth — into New York.

The dispute could affect the availability of a product that lets busy C-suiters get a boob job during a lunch break or a butt lift between meetings. Doctors have said the injectable is flying off the shelves, and some have continued to administer it during the state investigation.

Tiger co-CEO Oliver Burckhardt said in a filing on Wednesday that 60 doctors have contacted the company about the fat spat with New York — some worried about the case, but most wanting to buy more alloClae.

Tiger hasn't disputed shipping alloClae through New Jersey, though it has called the state's evidence "unreliable" and "self-serving," and said the allegation of "smuggling" is baseless and inflammatory.

It said the health department kept asking for more information without signaling concerns until last month, and that the company submitted testing data as recently as January to show that alloClae was safe.

Tiger's lawyer, Larry Wood Jr., did not address specific questions from Business Insider, referring a reporter to Tiger's court filings.

Building buzz for alloClae while dealing with regulators

AlloClae hit the market in 2024. It didn't take long for plastic surgeons on Manhattan's Tribeca and Upper East Side to realize the appeal. Their patients wanted a quick touch-up and were willing to pay for the convenience. In small quantities, the product can be injected for under $10,000; in other cases, it can cost up to $100,000 per procedure.

The product is a good fit for "the CEOs, COOs, CCOs that don't want to be away from the boardroom," Douglas Steinbrech, who practices in New York City, Beverly Hills, and Chicago, told Business Insider last year. "They have to go to a lot of meetings that just pop up, and they cannot control when they're going to happen. They can't just clear their schedule to recover for a surgery."

AlloClae was advertised on social media and websites: "Revolutionary," said one clinic. "Pure Gold. On Demand," said another.

In a video posted by a Texas plastic surgery practice, audio of Oprah gifting cars to a screaming audience was dubbed over a man in scrubs pretending to dole out alloClae boxes to employees who wriggled with excitement.

Tiger, which is privately held, said this month that alloClae is experiencing "rapid growth" and the company plans to build a 200-person sales force by the end of 2027 to sell alloClae and a similar product in development, dermaClae, to surgeons, med spas, and other buyers.

When Business Insider spoke to Tiger Aesthetics at the end of last year, the company said it was struggling to keep up with demand. Behind the scenes, it was grappling with more than a shortage.

The company was engaged in a back-and-forth with New York's health department. Between October 2024 and May 2025, the agency sent three letters saying that it could not grant Tiger permission to distribute alloClae in the state.

In July 2025, a health inspector visited two Tiger tissue facilities in Pennsylvania and asked why New York doctors were advertising alloClae. Monica Garcia, the COO of Tiger Aesthetic's parent company, said she was unaware of any shipments to the state and asked what the consequences would be if there were, according to a sworn statement from Joseph Giovannetti, the agency's top investigator.

Garcia, in a sworn statement, said the exchange took place at a Tiger affiliate where employees familiar with alloClae weren't present. She said the inspector didn't ask for follow-up information about alloClae distribution to New York, disputing one of Giovannetti's claims.

Giovannetti said the inspection prompted Tiger to stop shipping alloClae directly to New York and start going through New Jersey and Connecticut.

Despite the letters and inspection, Caroline Van Hove, the president of Tiger Medical Holdings affiliate Tiger Aesthetics, provided reassurances about alloClae to at least one New York plastic surgeon. "We can confirm that the New York Department of Health has not reached out to us in connection with our alloClae product," she wrote in an April 2026 letter seen by Business Insider.

Boxes of alloClae were piled up in a New Jersey driveway

Every week or two, starting no later than September 2025, a new set of white boxes would appear at the clapboard, shuttered home of Robert McGee, a nurse who lived on a cul-de-sac in the central New Jersey town of Tinton Falls, according to FedEx records and a state investigator's statement.

The boxes of alloClae would be stacked next to duffle bags and trash cans in McGee's driveway or on his front porch, according to delivery photos and Giovannetti.

Between September 2025 and April 2026, the company sent over 330 boxes of alloClae to McGee, who loaded them in his pickup, drove them the 50 miles into Manhattan, and dropped them off at more than three dozen plastic surgeons and med spas, Giovannetti said.

McGee did not respond to requests for comment.

In January 2026, the state said in a filing that an unidentified "whistleblower" told regulators what was happening. Three months later, health investigators made an "unannounced inspection" at the office of Dr. Adam Schaffner, a Manhattan plastic surgeon.

Schaffner's paper trail laid out a shift in Tiger's shipping processes. Invoices from July 2025 showed Tiger had sent alloClae directly to his Fifth Avenue office. But starting in August, the month after the inspection, the products were mailed to homes and offices in New Jersey and Connecticut, and employees or Ubers would courier them across state lines, the health department said.

Schaffner, who declined to comment, received at least $95,000 worth of alloClae initially shipped to addresses outside of New York, according to invoices filed in court records.

Some boxes went to the New York City office of plastic surgeon Matthew Schulman, the FedEx records show. In a YouTube video posted last fall, he gleefully unpacked 287.5 cubic centimeters of alloClae as the Pointer Sisters' "I'm So Excited" played in the background. Schulman's name, with McGee's home address, was visible on a shipping label.

If Schulman's boxes were typical — as a review of more than a dozen plastic surgeons' unboxing videos on Instagram suggests — a total of 15,840 cubic centimeters of alloClae could have been sent via McGee's home. The prices on 11 of Schaffner's invoices filed in court average $86.29 per cubic centimeter; at that price, more than $1.3 million worth of alloClae could have been shipped through McGee.

Schulman did not respond to requests for comment.

Tiger has asked that the state's allegations be struck from the court record because, among other things, they argue, the health department could be cherry-picking from its investigative file to benefit their case.

Some New York surgeons are still using alloClae

Doctors who received alloClae say they ordered the product from Tiger and didn't know the route it took.

"He had no idea that this was a challenge, or how stuff was showing up, or any of that," said Ken Sterling, an attorney for Dr. Jason Emer. Sterling said Emer has not been contacted by medical authorities.

Samira Shamoon, a publicist for Dr. Darren Smith, said in an email that "when Dr. Smith was using AlloClae, he purchased it directly from the company and had no knowledge of irregularities." Smith is no longer offering the product, she said.

ME Plastic Surgery, which has locations on Manhattan's Fifth Avenue and in Queens, recently updated a blog post to say that it is not offering alloClae.

Several New York doctors said in early June that they're still using alloClae. Tiger has said it's suspending distribution to New York, but the product can still be "legally sold." In the meantime, doctors in the state continue to promote it.

Emer posted an Instagram video on June 12 showing himself injecting alloClae into a patient's buttocks.

"Don't be left behind," the caption reads, along with a peach emoji. The geotag: New York City.

• A nutritionist uses a simple diet strategy to boost energy, improve gut health, and curb cravings.
• Her 'triple 30' rule makes it easier to get enough protein and fiber without overdoing it.
• It's all about adding healthy foods to your diet, including treats like dark chocolate and popcorn.

Forget proteinmaxxing — a simple three-part rule can help you hit your goals without overdoing it, says a top nutritionist in the UK.

Dominique Ludwig has been helping people eat healthfully for three decades. She said most diet trends offer contradictory advice, wasting your valuable time, money, and energy.

"In a world where nutrition is very confusing, it can actually be really simple," she told Business Insider.

Ludwig's new book, "No Nonsense Nutrition," offers a road map for healthy eating principles that work for both her and her clients.

One of her favorite tips is the "triple 30" rule: eating 30 grams of protein at each meal, 30 grams of fiber each day, and at least 30 different plants in your diet each week.

Ludwig said that within four weeks of following the triple 30 rule, her clients can cut back on processed foods without feeling deprived or relying on complex or strict eating plans.

As a result, they often have reduced cravings and "food noise," better digestion, lower inflammation (which may translate to fewer aches and pains), better mood, and more energy.

"Sometimes you don't need to jump down every rabbit hole. If you just start with the foundation, you suddenly see that food actually can be one of the most transformational things we can do to our health," Ludwig said.

Eat protein at every meal

You're probably already getting enough protein, Ludwig said, but timing it correctly can help you feel full throughout the day.

"It stabilizes your blood sugars. It keeps you feeling fuller for longer," she said. "Having your protein in the morning is really important because if you get breakfast right, it sets the bar for the rest of the day."

She recommends aiming for around 30 grams of protein at each meal through sources like Greek yogurt, fish, chicken, or legumes.

That's about 90 grams of protein per day, although you may need more if you're larger or highly active. Research suggests that adults benefit from around 1.5 grams of protein per kilogram of body weight (or 0.7 grams per pound) daily.

Getting the right amount of protein is also important for a long, healthy life, and we generally need more as we get older to prevent age-related loss of muscle tissue and promote a healthy metabolism.

"Proteins are not only for our muscles, but they're also for repair, they support our immune system, and our neurotransmitters. They're really important," Ludwig said.

Aim for 30 grams of fiber a day

While protein gets all the attention, Ludwig said fiber is an underrated nutrient that supports gut health, weight loss, and more.

"We're living in this massive fiber gap at the moment," she said. "It's the missing link."

Getting enough fiber helps slow digestion, which can promote steadier blood sugar and energy levels, helping you feel more satisfied after meals.

"Protein and fiber are like this dynamic duo; together they're bulky, and that means they switch on all these satiety mechanisms," Ludwig said.

She recommends 30 grams a day, slightly more than typical dietary advice, based on research from the American Gut Project, a study of more than 15,000 people led by the University of California San Diego, that analyzed health and eating habits.

High-fiber diets — rich in foods like beans, nuts, and whole grains — are also linked to a lower risk of chronic illnesses like heart disease and colorectal cancer, making fiber a key nutrient for longevity, too.

Include a variety of plants in your diet

The final 30 in Ludwig's formula refers to including 30 different types of plants in your diet each week, to provide a wide range of nutrients for gut health.

Your digestive system hosts colonies of beneficial bacteria, your microbiome, which play a key role in health, from your mood to your energy levels.

Ludwig compared the microbiome to a zoo: just as giraffes prefer different foods from lions, each type of gut microbe thrives on different micronutrients found in different plants.

Loading up on 30 plants a week is easier than you might think: every little bit counts, from the herbs and spices in your pantry to your morning coffee or tea.

And, she said, don't forget to treat yourself: fresh fruits, popcorn, and dark chocolate all help support a healthier gut in the long term.

• A new study tracked the "biological age" of people who swapped some of their meat for more veggies.
• Eating more vegetables and complex carbohydrates seemed to improve basic health metrics.
• Importantly, people didn't lose strength when they cut back on animal protein, from 50% to 30%.

Pump up the veggies, beans, and nuts, and pare down the meat, just a little bit.

That appears to be the takeaway from a new study tracking how changes to the typical "Western" diet, subbing in more vegetables and lowering saturated fat content, might contribute to healthy aging.

The study, conducted in Australia, fed roughly 100 healthy adults aged 65 to 75 a rotating menu of freshly prepared, unprocessed meals for one month, only changing up how much fat, meat, and carbohydrates different people ate on different diets.

The study was short, but on both functional measurements like grip strength, as well as clinical tests and measures of an emerging health metric called "biological age," people appeared to derive a slight health benefit from replacing some of their daily meat with plant proteins, and replacing saturated fat with more complex carbohydrates.

"What we wanted to do was a study that actually provided some real information about the causal relationship between macronutrients and health in old age," senior study author Alistair Senior, a nutrition scientist at the Charles Perkins Centre at the University of Sydney, told Business Insider.

The results lend more evidence to the idea that cutting back on, but not necessarily eliminating, meat can be good for a person's long-term health.

"Even our vegetarian diets weren't 100% vegetarian," Senior said. "They aim for about 70% of the protein coming from plant sources, and 30% from animal sources."

Three diet tweaks made a typical 'Western' diet healthier

For the study, researchers split participants into four different groups. They were instructed to only eat the food given to them during weekly meal deliveries for a full month. No alcohol, no extra sweets, no ultra-processed snacks.

"It's not perfect, people cheat, people might not be reporting everything they eat, but I think we did as good as is feasible," Senior said.

There were two "omnivore" diets:

• Diet 1: 14% protein, ~40% fat, ~40% carbohydrates

A meal on this plan was the closest to a standard, "Western" diet, with half of the protein intake coming from animal products.

For example: chicken tikka masala with white rice and green beans.

• Diet 2: 14% protein, ~30% fat, ~50% carbohydrates.

Similar to the first diet, with half of the protein from animal sources. This diet includes more carbohydrates from whole grains and vegetables, and has a lower fat content, with ingredients like brown rice and quinoa included more often.

And there were two "pro-veg" diets:

• Diet 3: 14% protein (less meat), ~40% fat, ~40% carbohydrates

For example: yellow coconut curry with rice, veggies and tofu.

• Diet 4: 14% protein (less meat), ~30% fat, ~50% carbohydrates.

A meal on this plan includes more carbohydrates like potatoes.

For example, a veggie-heavy cottage pie, with peas and carrots on the side, was on the menu.

People on diets 2, 3, and 4 all ended the month with measurable improvements to their "biological age," as measured with the Klemera-Doubal Method, which includes data from regular blood tests a doctor might order at an annual exam, like blood pressure, cholesterol, and creatinine levels. People who ate diet No. 1, the high-fat pro-meat "Western" diet, saw no change on their "biological age" tests. All four diet groups lost about the same amount of weight, an average of roughly four pounds, three of those being fat (this may just be a result of the nature of the trial, as a no-junk-food, no alcohol plan).

The study, while still preliminary, suggests older adults don't have to load up on meat to maintain their muscles and strength as they age.

Why meat may be bad for longevity

When people reduce their meat and saturated fat intake, they change the forces that are acting on their cells.

Senior says the amino acids in animal proteins turn on pro-growth pathways that tell our cells to grow and reproduce. Too much cell growth in old age can be a bad thing, propelling disease processes like cancer. Longevity scientists are also studying how the opposite of cellular growth and proliferation, what's called autophagy, the process by which starving cells eat and recycle themselves, may be a longevity-booster.

Meat consumption also amps up oxidative stress on cells, and can increase chronic inflammation, which is linked to many age-related chronic diseases, like high blood pressure, Type 2 diabetes, and heart disease. In particular, animal proteins that are not "lean" and have a higher saturated fat content, like those in red and — most especially — processed meat, are known to be pro-inflammatory, whereas protein-rich foods like fish, beans, and eggs tend to be more anti-inflammatory.

Sneak fiber into your meals

Longevity researcher Dan Belsky, who studies biological aging, and who was not involved in the study, said it is a "reassuring" finding for nutrition science.

"On balance it seems like maybe a little less meat, a little more veg in your diet is a good thing," Belsky, an associate professor of epidemiology at Columbia University, said. This idea goes along with decades of other research, in studies that have tracked what people eat over months and years, and looked at their health outcomes. Even among identical twins, people who eat more plants and less meat seem to do better on standard health measurements.

"We know we can manage our risk for heart disease, diabetes, reduce our risk for many cancers," Belsky said.

Nutrition is personal. How individuals respond to different foods can vary a lot, based on our genetics, our gut microbiome, and lifestyle.

Still, decades of research suggest a diet high in red meat is not great for your health and longevity.

Senior says you can easily mix your meat with other protein sources, like beans.

If you're making a bolognese sauce, why not substitute half of the meat for lentils? Beans are famously rich in dietary fiber, which can improve blood sugar, lower cholesterol, and tamp down inflammation.

"We're not even saying you need to go for a fully vegetarian diet, but trying to substitute some of that [meat] out might do the trick," he said.

• My mom died six weeks after my second child was born.
• Navigating grief while postpartum was especially challenging. I wanted to call my mom so many times.
• Losing my mother made me realize how quickly life can change, so now I'm adapting the way I parent.

People now speak honestly about postpartum exhaustion, hormones, and sleepless nights, but very few people talk about the way motherhood pulls you back toward your own mother in almost instinctive ways.

Every uncertainty suddenly becomes a reason to reach for her. When my baby boy would not settle, when his cry sounded slightly different, when I convinced myself something terrible must be wrong, all I wanted was to hear her say, "Frankie, it's normal." She had a way of making panic settle quietly.

But my mom died on December 27, just six weeks after my son was born.

Looking back, it feels as though she carried herself through one final Christmas for everyone else's sake. The presents were wrapped carefully. The traditions stayed intact. Even while she was losing her fight, she still poured herself into making sure everyone else felt held together. That was how she loved people: quietly, through care.

Then suddenly she was gone, and I was left standing in that strange place where new life and grief exist side by side.

Starting a new chapter without my mom was hard

There is something deeply disorienting about grieving while postpartum because motherhood continues regardless of heartbreak. Babies still wake hungry in the night. Tiny onesies still need folding. Your body is healing while your heart is breaking, and somehow both things are expected to happen at once.

At night, grief feels louder. I remember sitting in the dark, feeding my son, and instinctively reaching for my phone to message her before remembering she was no longer there. Even now, after months have passed, I sometimes call her phone just to hear her voice on the voicemail. For a few seconds, hearing her voice creates the briefest illusion that she still exists somewhere close enough to reach.

The happy moments became bittersweet

One of the loneliest things about grief is how heavy joy can become.

When my son first started smiling, my immediate instinct was to send videos to my mom. When he let out his first tiny laugh, excitement rose in me so quickly it almost hurt, because heartbreak followed immediately behind it. Who was I supposed to share these moments with now? Who would treasure them in the way she would have?

My focus has shifted

I have learned that love does not disappear when someone dies; it simply changes shape. Since my mom died, I have lived life at a million miles an hour. I've made enormous decisions quickly, choices I probably once would have sat with for much longer. I'm preparing for another international move, this time to Malaysia, so I can experience another part of the world.

I bought an apartment because somewhere inside me grew a desperate need to make sure my children would always have somewhere safe to land. Losing my mother made me realize how suddenly life can fracture. I think part of me has been trying to build protection against that feeling from ever happening again.

Still, there are moments where life softens around the edges. Watching my son smile in his sleep. Hearing his tiny laugh in the early morning light. Sitting in the Kenyan sunrise, holding him while birds begin singing outside. Those moments do not erase grief, but they exist beside it quietly.

Grief has changed motherhood for me

Grief changes your relationship with time. It makes everything feel both fragile and urgent. Since losing her, I've struggled to sit still. Movement feels easier than silence because silence leaves too much room for longing. Sometimes I wonder if I've been running simply so I don't have to fully feel the shape of her absence.

I think grief has changed the texture of motherhood for me. Love feels sharper now, more fragile and precious at the same time. My son will grow up without knowing my mom, but traces of her remain around us: in the way I soothe him, in the tenderness she taught me, in the instinct to care for others even when your own heart is breaking. Grief has not disappeared. It has simply woven itself quietly into motherhood, memory, and love itself.

• You don't need to count your macros to eat enough protein, a registered nutritionist said.
• Sophie Gastman relies on high-protein staples to reach her protein goals without overthinking.
• Her kitchen is always stocked with products like tinned fish.

When Sophie Gastman, a registered nutritionist, counts macros like protein, it can lead to overthinking.

"Staying away from hyper-focusing on any kind of number is more helpful," she told Business Insider.

Instead of tracking her meals or counting macros, Gastman incorporates high-protein ingredients into her dishes, alongside generous portions of vegetables, fibrous foods like beans, and healthy fats like avocados. Despite social media trends like protein-maxxing and debates over how much of the muscle-building nutrient we really need for optimal health, most of us tend to eat enough protein without trying, the author of "Find Your Healthy" said.

Research suggests that active people should aim to eat between 0.7 to 1 gram of protein per pound of body weight. To put that into context, a 130-pound woman should aim for around 90 to 130 grams of protein a day, while a man weighing 176 pounds should aim for between 125 and 176 grams a day. In a day, that might look something like eating: a half-cup of Greek yogurt, two eggs, a chicken breast, a cup of beans with rice, and a glass of milk .

She shared the easy protein sources she always has in her kitchen that help her eat protein at every meal without planning ahead.

Tinned fish

Tinned fish is affordable, high in protein, and can last for months, even years, if left unopened in a cool, dry place.

"I've got tuna, sardines, mackerel, salmon, literally always," Gastman said.

She chucks tinned fish onto salad, smashes them on toast, and stirs them through a stir-fry or a bowl of rice. "You could literally put them on anything," she said.

Eggs

Gastman always keeps eggs stocked in her kitchen.

One large egg contains about 6 grams of protein and cooks in minutes, she said. Eggs can be added to salads, breakfast tacos, or the classic avocado on toast.

Frozen edamame beans and peas

Peas and edamame beans have a regular spot in Gastman's freezer. She loves to add them to stir-fries, salads, and rice bowls.

A 100-gram serving of cooked edamame beans contains 11.5 grams of protein, while the same amount of peas contains around 4.7 grams."They're a really great source of protein," she said, "They make meals really satisfying."

"Once you combine ingredients like eggs and edamame beans and peas, you've suddenly got something that is actually quite high protein," Gastman added.

• Testosterone-maxxing is a hot trend in fitness and longevity, but too much can have side effects.
• New research suggests a majority of men are getting testosterone therapy without the right safeguards.
• A urologist explains who can benefit from testosterone and who should avoid it to prevent risks.

America is reaching peak testosterone.

In 2026, interest in the hormone is everywhere, from T-maxxing trends on social media to the US government's MAHA campaign. Testosterone replacement therapy (TRT) use has quadrupled in the past three decades, up to as many as 11 million Americans.

For some of them, the treatment may be doing more harm than good, new research suggests.

A majority of men who are prescribed testosterone don't meet the current guidelines for safe, effective treatment, according to a study from the University of Michigan.

That could worsen the risk of serious side effects, including infertility, heart attack, and stroke, and long-term dependence on TRT, which can dampen the body's natural production of testosterone.

While testosterone is an essential hormone for health, finding the right balance is complex because there's no one-size-fits-all treatment. A urologist explains what to know about the risks and benefits of testosterone, and how hormone trends are changing the landscape of men's health.

Who can benefit from testosterone therapy?

Healthy testosterone levels are crucial for energy, sex drive, muscle, and metabolism.

T-maxxing influencers might promise that it can get you a six-pack and supercharge your focus and performance, but doctors say the benefits are much more modest — if you need a boost at all.

A blood test can check if you have low testosterone and could benefit from TRT. It's typically taken first thing in the morning, and confirmed with a follow-up blood test on a different day.

Low testosterone is anything below 300 nanograms per deciliter for most healthy adult men.

You should also rule out conditions like sleep apnea, which are linked to low testosterone but can worsen with testosterone therapy.

Men who could benefit from testosterone might experience symptoms ranging from brain fog and low energy to reduced libido and erectile dysfunction. It can take anywhere from a few weeks to a few months for TRT to make a difference, depending on the symptoms.

When T backfires

In the latest research, endocrinologists looked at data from 200 men who were prescribed testosterone at the university clinic.

They found that only 12% of the men met the criteria for treating low testosterone, confirmed by two blood tests.

That means the other 88% — 176 men — may have been inappropriately given TRT, including some who had sleep apnea or prostate cancer.

On average, the men studied were in their 50s, but some as young as 18 were also prescribed testosterone.

If they don't need it, young men on testosterone could be putting their long-term health at risk, since taking TRT can make it harder for the body to produce its own supply of the hormone over time.

High testosterone levels can also increase the body's volume of red blood cells, a risk factor for high blood pressure that, in extreme cases, may lead to a heart attack or stroke. It can also impair fertility by temporarily reducing sperm count.

And taking T can potentially exacerbate serious health conditions like prostate cancer, potentially fueling tumor growth, per the Mayo Clinic.

The findings are concerning, given how popular testosterone has become in the wellness industry and the potential for misuse without clear guidelines, said study authors Dr. Maria Papaleontiou and Dr. Sophia Sinha, both professors at the University of Michigan.

"Testosterone has been coined as the 'fountain of youth' to optimize performance through enhancing muscle and improving energy levels in social media," they told Business Insider in a joint email interview. "Testosterone therapy can help some people who truly have low testosterone, but it is not risk-free."

Major update coming soon for testosterone therapy guidelines

Doctors understand that this is not a black-and-white issue.

While testosterone treatment can have side effects, low testosterone is also a health concern, Dr. Justin Dubin, director of men's sexual health at Baptist Health Medical Group, told Business Insider.

Dubin, who was not involved in the study, said prescribing TRT outside the guidelines may not always be harmful. Yes, TRT can be overprescribed to men who don't need it, but it is also underprescribed to men who could benefit, Dubin said.

"Guidelines are guidelines, they're not law," Dubin said. "There are gray areas, and we need to give care in the gray. That's where most doctors live and where most patients live."

The benchmark for healthy testosterone is so nuanced, Dubin said, that the American Urological Association has gathered a panel to discuss a major update to its guidelines on treating testosterone deficiency in the coming year or two.

For now, Dubin said the growing popularity of testosterone is a good thing, as it's prompting a more proactive approach to medical care for men, who are notorious for avoiding the doctor's office until there's an emergency. As long as guys are going about it the right way by speaking to their doctor instead of just buying stuff online, he's all for it.

"I think that's a wonderful thing because this is a gateway to men's health. This is how we can access a lot of guys, get them in to learn about their blood pressure, whether they have diabetes, heart disease," he said. "I'm actually excited and hopeful."

• As a kid, Brian Winch helped his father clean parking lots to support their family.
• Years later, he turned it into a business, and his brothers joined in.
• Now, he helps others learn about "America's Simplest Business," carrying on his dad's legacy.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Brian Winch, the founder of Clean Lots. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

As a young kid, I watched my parents work hard to keep food on the table. What is now called picking up a few side hustles was then just a way of life: they'd head to second, or even third jobs, to ensure we could make ends meet.

As one of three boys, once we became teenagers, we found ourselves helping too. So, it wasn't a surprise when my dad told me we were going to head out at the crack of dawn to clean trash from business parking lots.

While some kids today might hate everything about this, that wasn't how I was raised. My parents never complained about their lot as poor, working-class people doing what they needed to do. And I far from hated it. In fact, I found it peaceful to wake up early, watch the sunrise, and help a business owner clear their parking lot so it looked fresh and clean when their customers arrived.

Better yet, I was with my dad, something most 12-year-olds love deep down.

My father inspired me to start a simple business

My Dad's name was Joseph Winch, and he was a World War II refugee immigrant from Poland to where I grew up, in Calgary. He'd worked on the kill floor at a meatpacking plant when he got here. He'd laid track for the railroad. He'd been a hospital orderly.

When I was 21, my father died suddenly. I didn't have time to tell him that while my friends headed for other careers, I was secretly considering following his footsteps.

Deep in grief but motivated to make a path for myself, I started reaching out to properties to offer cleanup services. I established Winch Janitorial Services, which later became Winch Enterprises.

I now run Clean Lots, where I am also an author, educating others on what I call "America's Simplest Business." In a tech-fueled world, it's one that has remained AI-proof, as no robot can, as of now, truly scour the entire property for every little cigarette butt in the bushes and hard-to-reach places.

Around 45 years later, I'm not only proud of the career I've built helping others, but grateful I pursued my father's legacy over those other career options.

My family works alongside me

A few years into my janitorial career, where I'd make sure every last piece of trash was out of the bushes and owners knew if any fresh graffiti had been added to their buildings overnight, my two twin brothers started getting involved.

They both helped with their specific talents: the one who operated a forklift helped with cleanup, and the other focused on the project bidding and outreach.

We scaled to over $700,000 per year. Working with my brothers has gone better than some would expect — in fact, it's a way to keep the family together through the years.

But the family member I didn't expect to feel walking alongside me was my dad. Some days, I can sense his presence in the parking lots right next to me.

I've even heard him speaking to me in my head: "Brian, take a few steps that way." Once, I followed this voice and found a wallet. At first, I thought I was crazy, but that day I realized how real it is.

I want to help others find the same success in a simple business

After building my career, I realized I wanted to mentor others through their own business builds in this industry.

One high school teacher in Chicago built his business to make money during the summers off and, after partnering with some buddies, grew it to operate in multiple states.

Through these stories, I realized my father's legacy — and now my own — was never about trash; it was about being of service to others.

• Stacy Lentz has co-owned the Stonewall Inn with three others since 2006.
• She went into credit card debt to buy the Inn, and has never made much money.
• Owning it has been the responsibility of a lifetime, and given her purpose, she says.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Stacy Lentz, co-owner of the Stonewall Inn and CEO of the Stonewall Inn Gives Back Initiative. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I grew up middle-class, in the middle of a cornfield, in the middle-of-nowhere Kansas. That's a lot of middles, but once I moved to New York City in my 20s, I felt like I had discovered the center of the world.

I probably knew that I was gay since I was younger, but I fought it. I went to school with the same 16 kids each year. I knew that I tended to develop crushes on my friends who were girls. As for the guys, I wanted to be their best friends, but had no desire to date them.

At 24, I walked into my first gay bar in New York and immediately thought, "Oh, these are my people."

I took on credit card debt to buy the Stonewall Inn

After that, I spent a lot of time in LGBTQ+ bars. There was a piano bar three buildings down from The Stonewall Inn that I just loved. Having grown up as a theater kid, being in a piano bar in New York City has always been fun. I became a regular there, and befriended the manager, a man named Kurt Kelly, who has since become like a brother to me.

I had walked into the Stonewall Inn before, in the 90s. At the time, I knew a bit about the significance, but the site wasn't being treated with any historic reverence. Then, in 2006, Kurt and I heard that the Inn was shutting down.

We realized we had a chance to preserve history for our community. So, along with two other partners, we bought the Stonewall Inn. I had to go into credit card debt to do that, but this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

I haven't made much, but it's not about the money

My background is in marketing, and by that point, I had become a vocal advocate for the LGBTQ+ community. I knew I could help make the inn a success and raise its profile. Still, the first year was really difficult. We had a roof collapse and needed to put a lot of work into the building.

I made my investment back within the first couple of years, but I've never made much money from the bar. We're very transparent about that. Our rent is $55,000 a month. That's a lot of vodka soda to sell.

For me, it's never been about the money. That wasn't the point. I see myself and my co-owners as stewards of this place. When we purchased it, there was nothing about the history of the Stonewall Inn displayed. Today, there are historic artifacts, including the original "raided property" sign from 1969. Upstairs, we have a community center where we host everything from fundraisers to weddings.

We're honoring the legacy and continuing to take action

Owning the Stonewall Inn has been the responsibility of a lifetime. It's not just about keeping the lights on; it's about keeping the mission alive.

My co-owners and I believe that queer history can't be preserved without providing for queer futures. In 2017, we started a nonprofit, the Stonewall Inn Gives Back Initiative. We provide safe-space training to other establishments, and also provide support to the LGBTQ+ folks in the places where it's most difficult to be queer, like Mississippi, Uganda, or Kansas, where I grew up.

The nonprofit has a small budget of between $60,000 to $120,000 a year. Still, it's something my co-owners and I are really proud of. If we rely on our legacy, without continuing to take action, it just becomes branding. That's why we're determined to not just honor the Inn's past but to also have a real impact on the future of the LGBTQ+ community.

• I travel a lot but typically stay in luxury hotels.
• My sister recently asked me to go to an adult summer camp with her, and I was hesitant.
• However, I'm so glad I went, and it changed the way I think about "comfort."

I'm a luxury travel reviewer, so I've spent years refining my standards for comfort. I've stayed at extraordinary hotels and resorts around the world — properties with the plushest bedding and robes, private infinity pools, dedicated butlers, and absolutely no need to take care of myself while on property. Once you get used to that level of comfort, it's hard to un-know it.

So when my sister started trying to convince me to attend a women's retreat at an adult summer camp in Northern California, I was skeptical.

I grew up camping, but stopped doing it over the years

To be fair, I'm not anti-camp. I grew up going to summer camp and even did a fair amount of recreational camping with friends into adulthood. But then I had kids, a life stage that necessitated so much gear schlepping and cleanup that doing so for recreation ceased to appeal. Camping lost its novelty.

Meanwhile, my work as a lifestyle writer moved increasingly toward luxury travel coverage. Over time, I became accustomed to certain elite-level comforts — and, if I'm being honest, attached to them.

My sister asked me to go to an adult summer camp

My sister, whose tastes differ from mine in plenty of ways, recruited two of our closest friends from high school and college to attend, too. It felt like a strategic FOMO operation — and it worked. About a week before the retreat, I finally caved and booked my flight.

I expected rustic accommodations, communal bathrooms, and the general feeling of roughing it.

Instead, I walked into all sorts of surprises.

For one thing, the camp itself had been rebuilt in recent years and felt far more polished than I anticipated — and certainly much more elevated than the Southern California camp of my youth. Our cabin for the four of us had heating and air conditioning, an en-suite bathroom, ample charging ports, and was spotless. The food in the dining hall was genuinely great, including lots of vegetarian options for me.

It felt less like roughing it and more like a conference center situated among trees.

But the accommodations weren't the only type of comforts that surprised me.

The bigger surprise was realizing how many forms comfort can take that have nothing to do with luxury amenities.

I found comfort in community and rest

There were 175 women at the retreat, and many of them were older than we were. My group ranged from age 48 (me) to 51 (my sister), but many attendees were in their 60s, 70s, and even their upper 80s. There was something unexpectedly grounding about being surrounded by women carrying decades of perspective and experience. The atmosphere felt notably free of performance or pressure.

Then there was another luxury I'd almost forgotten: being an off-duty mom in an adults-only environment. My sister has three kids; my two friends and I each have two. For a few days, nobody needed snacks. Nobody needed a ride somewhere. Nobody was making an impassioned case for me to extend their screen time.

Instead, I had time for things I almost never make space for anymore. I tried to learn Mahjong. I made beaded bracelets and dipped my own candles. I dozed through a sound bath and tried forest bathing.

The activities themselves almost felt beside the point.

Luxury hotels are designed to create comfort. That's literally their purpose.

But somewhere along the way, I think I'd unconsciously narrowed my own definition of comfort into something highly curated and highly physical — softer sheets, nicer rooms, better amenities.

I left adult summer camp with the reminder that some of the greatest comforts have nothing to do with thread count at all.

• Serena Williams is returning to tennis at age 44, with her first pro match the week of June 8.
• Williams has been open about using a GLP-1 to lose weight, saying it helps her move better.
• Her comeback is great news for people who believe in peptides for longevity and performance.

The GOAT is bounding out of retirement.

Tennis great Serena Williams is back in the game, after openly endorsing GLP-1s for weight loss, and emphasizing how great her knees feel at her new, lower weight.

"I'm moving better on Ro," she said in a Super Bowl ad for Ro, a telehealth company that prescribes Ozempic, Wegovy, and Zepbound. (Williams' husband, Reddit cofounder Alexis Ohanian, sits on the board and is a major investor.)

In the commercial, Williams said she can move more easily and enjoy steadier blood sugar levels throughout the day while she trains. In general, she feels "healthier" on her injectable medication, which she's said helped her lose 34 pounds after the birth of her second child in 2023.

"After having two kids, I wasn't able to be at a weight that was healthy for me," Williams told the "Today" show when she first announced her paid partnership with Ro in 2025.

Her comeback is huge for tennis, of course — but also for the burgeoning peptide movement.

Yes, GLP-1s ("glucagon-like peptide-1") are peptides.

For the uninitiated, injectable peptides are hot stuff right now. They have become wildly popular among gym-goers, athletes, and bodybuilders looking to trim fat, control inflammation, and avoid injuries. Ultimately, they want to find an edge in their routine.

Peptides are critical signaling molecules our bodies use to build muscle, heal injuries, and control hormones. Gym bros' favorite peptides include BPC-157 (aka "the Wolverine shot") for recovery, ipamorelin CJC-1295 for lean muscle growth — and, of course, GLP-1s for weight loss.

To be clear, Williams isn't suggesting that GLP-1s should be used as performance-enhancing drugs. She is simply emblematic of a growing trend, from regular folks on up to competitive bodybuilders and elite athletes, who are using GLP-1s to stay nimble as they get older.

Her experience mirrors what many doctors are seeing in clinical practice: Their patients are recognizing GLP-1s as a health optimization tool — seeing that the fat reduction and anti-inflammatory benefits of these drugs go beyond treating diabetes and obesity. Research shows the medications can improve heart health, liver function, and sleep quality. And scientists are also probing whether these drugs could help with healthier aging and longevity.

"It's the most powerful drug we've ever seen for helping people lose body fat," exercise physiologist Pat Davidson, who is using an unapproved GLP-1 drug to help shred fat for bodybuilding, told Business Insider. "You are never putting that genie back in the bottle."

GLP-1s target dangerous belly fat

The trend isn't limited to high-powered sports stars.

In San Francisco, Dr. Nima Afshar, a concierge doctor at longevity-focused Private Medical, said he has "dozens" of elite clients who are using these drugs to remove dangerous visceral fat from their midsections and feel better in their bodies.

Visceral fat is stored deep in the belly, providing essential cushioning for vital organs such as the liver and kidneys. While some visceral fat is normal, too much can be a problem, as this fat is metabolically active, and can impact a person's risk of developing chronic conditions like heart disease and diabetes.

Increasingly, Afshar is initiating conversations with patients who he says are "not that overweight" but who he thinks could use these drugs to boost their longevity by driving down visceral fat stores and lowering inflammation across the body.

"I almost don't use the word weight," Afshar said. "Some people can carry visceral fat, but tolerate it well and have no metabolic effects — that's uncommon." For most people, extra "toxic" mid-section fat, which is not always visible, "can ultimately make you not feel quite as good."

Once the negative signaling from that extra visceral fat is gone, a whole chain of health benefits can ensue, he said.

Afshar uses multiple clinical measurements — including InBody scans, routine bloodwork, liver and kidney ultrasounds, and blood pressure readings — to assess whether GLP-1s could be prescribed to improve a patient's health.

At the same time, he recommends all his patients on GLP-1s up their protein intake to "the maximum" recommended dose, and incorporate more movement into their daily routines, to help safeguard their musculature and prioritize fat loss over muscle wasting as they eat less food.

Some private insurers are getting wise to the same idea and mandating that patients adhere to some kind of exercise and nutrition program in order to get access to these medications.

Dr. Mitch Biermann, an obesity medicine physician at Scripps Health in San Diego, said the practice is emblematic of a wider shift in his field, toward a more holistic assessment of excess fat and body composition.

While insurance companies may not cover every indication (i.e., medical reason to take a drug), doctors are increasingly prescribing GLP-1s to a wider array of people with health concerns tied to carrying around excess weight, including joint pain, inflammation, and high blood pressure.

"I think there are quite a lot of indications that people can justifiably use the medicine," Biermann said. "There are just many different definitions of obesity now."

Bodybuilders and athletes are using peptides to get an edge

Whether it was steroids or insulin, bodybuilders have long used exogenous hormones to pursue bulgier muscles, along with protein-rich diets and more strength training than cardio.

GLP-1 drugs are essentially the next generation of that playbook: powerful new drugs that are like supercharged versions of our own hunger-checking hormones, which can help athletes get lean.

Take Davidson, the bodybuilder, who is gearing up for a couple of Mr. Universe-style bodybuilding competitions this July. He's aiming to cut his body fat, without sacrificing muscle.

So, alongside his ultra-high-protein, low-carb diet, he started taking an ultra-powerful but not-yet-released GLP-1 drug called retatrutide, which is still in development at Eli Lilly, about three months ago. (He's part of a groundswell of gym-goers tapping into underground "peptide" markets selling research materials.)

Davidson said he has lost over 30 pounds in three months. He feels like the GLP-1 has helped him maintain more strength than he usually does in the slim-down phase before a big event.

"I really haven't gotten any weaker," Davidson said.

Afshar said the "super optimizers" like Davidson are rarities in his practice, but he knows at least a few people who fit into the category.

Doctors vehemently recommend against doing this without medical supervision.

Williams is not part of this performance enhancement and fitness-optimization-through-peptides band of GLP-1 users; she is promoting these drugs for FDA-approved uses, including blood sugar control and clinical weight loss.

Still, her big comeback to the court next week is great news for the pro-peptide guys, who are keen to show that peptides are much more than drugs to treat chronic diseases like obesity and type 2 diabetes.

• Erin Vlack was 280 pounds overweight and resolved to get in shape and change her lifestyle.
• She took things further when she moved from North Carolina to Spain to be closer to her son.
• The single mom told Business Insider that she is much happier and healthier after the switch.

This story is based on an interview with Erin Vlack, 48, a pharmaceutical supply chain consultant living in Valencia, Spain. It has been edited for length and clarity.

In April last year, two months after leaving my steady job in pharmaceuticals, I was in discussion with another company about a full-time position.

It was tempting to accept the senior directorship they offered, but I dismissed the idea at the last minute.

My 25-year-old son, Gavin, was studying medicine in Spain, and I missed him so much. "What if I moved to Europe to be with him?" I asked myself.

I spoke to immigration lawyers

I reached out to immigration lawyers that very afternoon. I'm a great believer in striking when the iron is hot, before excuses creep in.

Now, just over 12 months later, I'm renting a three-bedroom house less than 20 minutes away from Gavin in Valencia, the happiest and healthiest I've ever been.

Still, I'm no stranger to reinvention. A decade ago, at 5ft 5in, I weighed 430 pounds — 280 pounds overweight for my height — and wore size 28 clothing. I struggled to catch my breath when I did anything active, like taking my kid to the park.

Both my parents died within a year of each other, and I binged and comfort ate out of grief. I was a single mom, and there were financial issues that left me unable to afford fresh food all the time.

I'd buy things from Walmart and the Dollar Store, which weren't very healthy. Before long, I looked in the mirror and thought, "Oh my God, what have you done to your body?"

I had a mastectomy

The shock was enough to make me follow the Keto diet and start exercising. I lost 172 pounds before having gastric bypass surgery in 2022, which helped me get down to 140 pounds and size six jeans.

In 2024, I had a bilateral mastectomy and reconstruction because breast cancer runs in both sides of my family.

But the biggest change by far was selling my home near Raleigh, North Carolina, donating my property to charity, and arriving at the airport in Madrid with three suitcases.

I quickly found my bearings and my house with Gavin's assistance. I traveled on a so-called "non-lucrative visa," which means you come to Spain with only your passive income and savings.

Now, I'm waiting to convert to a highly qualified, high-value immigrant status that will allow me to be a digital nomad.

I'm fluent in Spanish now

As soon as I get my new visa, I'll plow my energy into the clinical trials supply company I founded. It feels exciting to be working for myself.

I'm in it for the duration and plan to stay in Spain, where I'm fluent in the language, until I can apply for long-term residency. The only things I really miss about the US are my friends and my sports car.

It's great to be so close to Gavin again. Although he's busy with his studies, we make time for meals and hugs.

We recently returned from a weekend trip when we talked, cooked, and enjoyed a couple of glasses of wine.

Food here is healthy

Everything is easygoing here. You'll walk through a plaza where a group of kids is playing while parents enjoy a coffee and casually kick the ball back to them.

The produce is fresh, and people walk everywhere. I look after my health by going to the gym six times a week and doing yoga outside on my terrace.

Every morning, I wake to the magnificent views of the mountains near the city. I've never felt more content and settled in my life.

• Many of my favorite hair, skin, and hygiene products are from Trader Joe's and cost less than $10.
• I use Trader Joe's fluoride-free toothpaste and lemongrass-coconut body oil every day.
• The best Trader Joe's beauty products include Enrich moisturizing face lotion and hair oil.

I used to think I had to spend a lot on beauty products if I wanted quality, but Trader Joe's has completely changed my mind.

Typically, I stick to food when I shop at the grocery chain, but on one trip, a $6 hair oil caught my eye. Although I follow a tight budget, it felt like a great price, and I decided to try it.

I couldn't believe how much it seemed to improve the health of my hair after just one use.

After that, I became hooked on trying Trader Joe's hair, skin, and hygiene products. Fortunately, many of them are under $10.

There have been a few misses, but here are the ones I've loved enough to make part of my daily and weekly routines.

Trader Joe's hair oil is a key part of my morning routine.

Each morning, I massage a drop of this oil throughout my hair. It makes it look so shiny in between washes, rather than greasy.

The moisturizing mix of ingredients, including argan oil, moringa seed oil, chia seed oil, and vitamin E, has also been helping my hair recover from when I ironed it daily while I was teaching.

Speaking of ironing, the oil is also designed to help protect hair against heat damage up to 450°F.

Some beauty fans even say this is comparable to the popular Ouai hair oil that costs about $30 for 1.5 ounces. Meanwhile, a 1-ounce bottle of Trader Joe's costs $6.

The Enrich moisturizing face lotion doesn't break me out.

At just $4 for a 4-ounce bottle, I was skeptical about Trader Joe's Enrich face lotion.

However, I've lived in Florida my entire life and have never found a facial moisturizer with SPF that doesn't break me out — until this one.

In addition to SPF 15, the fragrance-free lotion also contains vitamins A, C, and E.

I've been using Enrich under my makeup in the morning, and since it's so inexpensive, I don't feel bad applying it to my arms as well for some extra TLC.

Trader Joe's lemongrass-coconut body oil doesn't leave me feeling greasy.

I've been on the hunt for the perfect body oil to apply after the shower when my skin is damp. This is the first one I've tried that leaves me feeling moisturized, not like a layer of grease is sitting on top of my skin.

It's made with lemongrass oil, virgin coconut oil, sweet almond oil, jojoba oil, and olive oil, and I appreciate the natural ingredients.

The scent feels cheery and uplifting, and many consider lemongrass oil to be a natural mosquito repellent. With summer around the corner, that's a real perk.

Best of all, Trader Joe's body oil feels super affordable at $4 for a 4.8-ounce bottle.

I use Trader Joe's bonding shampoo and conditioners for a salon-level wash.

This shampoo and conditioner duo from Trader Joe's leaves my hair feeling utterly healed from that aforementioned heat damage.

I wash my scalp first with a gentle dandruff shampoo, then shampoo and condition with Trader Joe's bonding set. This is a strategy my dermatologist told me to try — the medicated shampoo cleans my scalp, while the regular shampoo nourishes my hair.

This routine makes my hair feel and look like I got a salon wash and blowout when it's dry. It may be because these products contain ingredients like hydrolyzed keratin and silk, which can help strengthen hair and make it shine.

At $8 per 12-ounce bottle, this duo cost me $16 total, but the quality reminds me of the expensive salon sets I've bought from my hairdresser in the past.

Some shoppers even swear these are dupes for more expensive bonding shampoos, which can cost twice (or even three times) as much.

I've been using this $1 find as a luxurious hand soap.

I couldn't believe how luxurious Trader Joe's Next to Godliness oatmeal-and-honey vegetable soap feels when I wash my hands with it. After all, I paid only $1 for a 4-ounce bar.

Since I've started using this as a hand soap, I haven't had to use as much hand lotion — it's that moisturizing. I love the lather, too, but it's the scent that stole my heart. This soap smells like oatmeal-spiced cookies right from the oven.

If I ever see this on shelves again, I'm stocking up.

This Trader Joe's fluoride-free toothpaste feels like a treat that's good for my teeth.

I've been looking for an affordable fluoride-free toothpaste that leaves my mouth feeling just as clean as its fluoride counterparts for some time — and this one from Trader Joe's has been a winner for me.

The 6-ounce bottle of peppermint toothpaste costs $4, and I appreciate that it has calcium hydroxyapatite, which some studies suggest can help protect teeth from erosion, cavities, and decay.

My favorite part is that it tastes like York Peppermint Pattie filling, but leaves my teeth feeling clean all day long.

Keep reading Trader Joe's diaries to see what other must-haves shoppers have in their carts.

• Lori Bufka, 64, cares for her aging mother in Arizona due to high assisted living costs.
• Bufka's mother lives in a nearby trailer, reducing care costs and enabling family support.
• Tech aids Bufka in remotely monitoring her mother, enhancing her caregiving abilities.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Lori Bufka, 64, who is caring for her mother with dementia in Arizona. Assisted living became too expensive for her mother, so Bufka moved her into a trailer next to their home, where her mother would have enough space and safety. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

I was a college professor and retired from a community college in Florida. I raised two boys, both of whom are married, and I have five grandchildren. I had retired to do van life with my partner, who has been with me for seven years. I realized, though, that you can only do so much van life before you need a place to come home to. So we bought a tiny house in Arizona.

I'm an only child, and my mom was in assisted living in California. When she went into assisted living, her veteran benefits and Social Security were enough to cover the cost of her care. She was in assisted living for over seven years, and she had sold her house and had some savings. The rate kept going up and up, and it was draining her savings.

The cost was about $4,700 a month, and it was about to go up to $5,200, which was a couple of thousand dollars more than what she earned.

She's 88, and I wanted to keep her there as long as she could. When I got the notice that the rate was going up again, and that they were going to raise her quality of care cost because her dementia was getting worse, her savings were down to almost nothing. They said that she would be moved to a dementia unit with four other people, and I didn't want that to happen to her.

Additionally, as her dementia got worse, she would get so many scam calls. She was savvy her whole life and worked as a lead for a law firm and a real estate agent, but it came to a point where I had to turn off her phone.

It was cheaper to take care of Mom at home

My partner and I decided that we could probably take care of her. It would be a lot cheaper. We started making the moves to bring her here so that I could take care of her. I brought my mom in to live by us in November.

There wasn't going to be room for her and my partner, so I had to give her a little model home in the same trailer park. Hers is about 700 square feet and is about a minute's walk from me. There are a lot of older people here, and the owner keeps a good eye on everyone. I knew that she wasn't going to be with me, but she needed care as if she were.

The trailer was in the low five figures, and we bought it using two-thirds of her savings and one-third of my savings. The rent for the space a little over $500 monthly. It's so much cheaper this way because my partner and I split the caregiving. Her utility bills run about $200 monthly in the winter and $70 in the summer. Caring for her started to become a little much for me, but because we're in the mountains, there aren't many home health organizations here, and none take her insurance.

She went into hospice care, and we hired someone to come for a few hours a week. It was supposed to be $37 for two hours, but when I got the bill, they tacked on mileage, so it became $92. We figured it wasn't worth it, so now hospice volunteers visit every now and then, and hospice covers medically necessary appointments. We know we're probably going to take care of her until she dies, unless she gets to a point where I can't take care of her.

It was a huge change in our lifestyle

We haven't been traveling since November, and I haven't been away from her for more than three hours at a time. My mom is deaf, and it would've been challenging to deal with that from afar.

My mom is somewhat independent still. She can dress herself and go about her day. I wake up every morning and make sure she's still in bed, then I turn on her coffee maker. I bring her breakfast over and leave notes about what she should do, like how to use the microwave. I check on her every half hour until she finally gets up. I come over before lunch to give her pills, eat lunch with her, and then sit with her until the afternoon, when she watches TV by herself. She can't cook dinner, so my partner cooks all her meals, and we bring them over.

The trailer has a bedroom at the back, then a small bathroom, kitchen, and living room. The rooms are big enough for her to guide her walker through, and because of how narrow it is, it lessens the fall risk. They had an old-fashioned bathtub that you had to step over to get in, but the woman who owns the trailer park hired a guy to lower the height. We also had to install railings on the porch. The kitchen has an electric stove, which is great because a gas stove isn't good when someone has dementia, because they can accidentally light a fire.

Tech has helped me take care of her remotely

One of the biggest nightmares is that people with dementia can't work the TV and telephone. She got to the point where she could barely use the remote, and she would start pushing buttons and would not stop.

I had come across JubileeTV, a TV system that lets you change channels remotely. The price wasn't prohibitive for us. The Jubilee remote replaced the Roku remote and came with a cover, so the buttons she can actually press are limited to volume and channels. If I'm out at the store, I can use the telescope function to see what she's done with the TV and get it back to what she wants to watch.

I often call her, so it comes up on the TV, and she uses closed captioning so she can read what I'm saying. The app has an automatic connect function because my mom wouldn't be able to answer a call or find the buttons to do so. The communication function also allows my sons to call her, and her hospice nurses can do the same.

I have used the app's drop-in function to look in and see if she's OK. I use that in conjunction with Blink cameras to make sure she doesn't fall. Those have been important because my mom has fallen a lot since she moved here. I probably check on her three or four times during the night and frequently during the day. One time, she put Dawn dishwashing soap in her glass of water because she wanted to add flavor, so I've had to stop her from doing unsafe things a few times.

I also have smart plugs from Alexa that let her control her radiator heater and other electronics. She has a cheap laptop that I put the Google Live Transcribe app on.

Tech has helped me in so many ways, and seeing her age at home has been somewhat stress-relieving.

• Moving to Japan from New Zealand gave my family cheaper living and better healthcare.
• Inexpensive flights and Japan's rail network made frequent travel part of everyday life.
• Less financial stress and a slower lifestyle improved my mental health and overall quality of life

Three years ago, my family of three left New Zealand for Kobe, Japan, desperate for a total reset. We were running on empty, exhausted by skyrocketing living costs, limited career growth, and relentless financial stress.

We already loved Japan as tourists, but moving here permanently felt like a massive gamble. Instead, trading hemispheres didn't just change our coordinates; it completely rewrote our quality of life.

Same-day medical care is possible

Back in New Zealand, my husband once waited months for an MRI after a severe work injury, while I spent years and thousands of dollars chasing answers to chronic health concerns through a clogged public system.

When his back pain returned, I braced for the same exhausting delays in Japan. Instead, I laughed out loud when the clinic doctor asked if he'd prefer his MRI in three hours or later in the day, after he'd had some lunch. The total cost was just ¥6000 (around $38 USD).

While New Zealand's healthcare is technically free, accessibility was often the real issue. I now feel an enormous sense of relief knowing affordable and timely care is available when we need it. My 10-year-old daughter's monthly pediatric specialist appointments cost just ¥280 — less than $2 USD.

Ditching our car improved our lives

We don't own a car, so movement is embedded in our daily life. Between train stations, school runs, and grocery trips, I easily clear 10,000 steps a day.

In my first four months here, I lost 10 kilograms (about 22 pounds), though I quickly found them again thanks to Japan's incredibly delicious bakeries.

Increased walking has also changed how I connect with my environment. In a car, seasonal changes passed me by. Now, I slow down to notice spring buds, cherry blossoms hanging over train tracks, or autumn maples turning a deep crimson. I even took extra winter walks just to feel snowflakes settle on my cheeks as the hills behind my home turned white.

We can travel frequently

In New Zealand, international trips were a rare and expensive treat. In Japan, cheap flights across Asia and an extensive rail network make travel effortless and affordable.

Last summer alone, we visited Vietnam, Taiwan, Singapore, Bali, and the Setouchi Islands. Our multi-stop summer itinerary — flying from Osaka to Singapore and Bali before heading back to Japan — cost just 212,587 Yen ($1,332 USD) for all three of us on budget carriers.

Traveling to Beppu this May made me realize just how lucky we are. As I rode the Yufuin no Mori scenic train past mountains covered in vivid green cedar and purple wisteria, I looked out the window and actually cried out of pure gratitude for this new life.

Having affordable international flights at our doorstep and a domestic transit system that makes spontaneous weekend trips easy has turned travel from an occasional luxury into a normal part of our lives.

Our housing and grocery bills plummeted by more than half

In New Zealand, we paid NZ $1,680, or about $985 USD, a month for a small two-bedroom unit outside Christchurch's city center. In Kobe, we now pay around $450 a month for a much larger three-bedroom apartment.

The first time I did a week's worth of grocery shopping in Japan, I walked into the supermarket with ¥50,000 (about $315 USD) in my wallet, expecting to spend most of it. When the total came to just ¥15,000 ($95 USD), I genuinely thought there had been a mistake at the register.

While rising prices and the weak yen have made everyday life more expensive for many families in Japan, it still feels far more financially manageable for us than life in New Zealand did, especially when it comes to housing, groceries, internet, and eating out.

Living in Japan has reshaped my perspective and improved my mental health

Starting over in Japan wasn't a magical fix; navigating a new language and culture was lonely at times. Yet immersing myself in a completely different way of living reshaped my perspective, teaching me to appreciate more and fight the current less.

They say money can't buy happiness, but the financial stability and lifestyle shift here reduced my stress so drastically that eight months ago, I finally came off antidepressants after relying on them since I was 17.

Japan didn't cure me, but it created the conditions for recovery, which reignited my curiosity for learning about the world.

• I was laid off after 10 years working at the media company.
• I'm unemployed in my 50s and can't find a job; instead, I'm doing side gigs.
• I wonder where I fit in the current job market as an unemployed 50-something-year-old.

I was one of the first Twitter "influencers" back before it even had an app. When Facebook launched pages, I was the first gay journalist to have one after they helped me set one up, complete with the blue "verified" checkmark that actually meant something before they started selling them.

I grew another Facebook page to over a million followers, and the Library of Congress archived my old blog as an important part of the internet.

I spent 20 years helping to build the online journalism ecosystem into what it is today. So why can't I find a job in digital journalism now that I'm unemployed for the first time in 20 years?

I have a sneaking suspicion it's because of my age.

I was laid off after decades in the media business

I started my own site in the early days of blogging, back in 2004. After 10 years, I sold it to a media company and went to work for them.

I stopped focusing on my own social media presence to build the media company's accounts. The publications needed the awards and recognition more than I did, I thought. I invested in them instead of myself.

They laid me off a few days before I'd have been there for 10 years.

I know I'm not the only one. Editors, journalists, and professional copywriters are laid off weekly. LinkedIn is now chock-full of professionals bemoaning that they're on layoff lists.

Many have most likely been replaced with AI programs. AI doesn't want paid holidays, vacation time, or health insurance. It definitely doesn't need to plan for retirement.

I wonder how much my age is factored into my struggles

Now I'm scraping by on Substack subscriptions, monetized social media content, and freelance writing. None of those are 401(k) boosters.

During the one interview I've landed, a person half my age told me that my résumé was impressive, but the follow-up question was, "When do you see yourself retiring?"

When will I retire? When I hit the lottery.

There's a particular type of despair that arises when you realize that you have to justify 20 years' worth of work in one paragraph that will impress an AI bot.

Toss in the fact that I never finished my college degree, and I've got even less of a chance of bypassing the AI screeners who always tell me I forgot to enter my higher education qualifications.

Job listings I'm now seeing require a master's degree and an active TikTok account to land a minimum wage job pitching influencers to shill a corporation's latest product. Sure, I've got thousands of followers across multiple platforms, but have I done the latest TikTok dance trend? That's considered experience now.

Add in that I moved to Mexico City three years ago

Most job listings for remote positions require you to be based in the US. While my bank account is American and I pay American taxes, companies don't want to deal with a cross-border hire.

Now I'm not just older, I'm complicated.

I don't want to retire; I want to pay my bills. I miss leading teams and being useful in a way that feels more immediate.

Until I can again, I tweak résumés, rebuild my social media presence, grow my newsletter, write the best cover letters I can, and hope for the best.

It's been challenging, but I'm hopeful that my best years aren't behind me.

• I went to Las Vegas for a work conference and met my future husband there.
• Within 24 hours, I told him I'd follow him anywhere.
• Thirteen years later, I'm married to him and raising our children in Trinidad and Tobago.

Thirteen years ago, I flew from Atlanta to Las Vegas for a work conference. I thought I was going to learn how to build a business: strategies, contacts, maybe some motivation. I did not know I was walking into the room where I would meet the man I would eventually marry.

I was 25 and tired of dating men who looked good on paper but didn't feel right in real life. From the outside, some of the men I dated seemed impressive: money, status, ambition, the kind of résumés many women are told to want. But something was always missing.

So when I received an invitation to a work conference for a direct-selling business I'd recently joined, I was more than willing to meet someone new.

I was ready to settle down and find my partner

Before the trip, I made changes that felt dramatic at the time. I cut off the locs I'd been growing for more than four years. I stopped dating. I changed the names of several men in my phone to "Do Not Answer." I made a private vow to stop entertaining almost-right men while praying for the right one.

On the flight to Las Vegas, I couldn't sleep, which almost never happens. I kept shifting in my seat, restless in a way I couldn't explain. Eventually, I pulled out my cream-colored journal and jotted down everything I wanted in a husband.

Nine bullet points. Not a fantasy list — an honest reckoning with the kind of man I wanted to love, trust, and follow.

I met my husband while waiting in line at the conference

The next morning, I woke up late. One hour before the conference doors opened, I rushed downstairs in four-inch heels to find the line already wrapped around the corner.

The conference had attracted people from many countries, and the hallway was full of accents. One caught my attention: warm, rhythmic, unfamiliar. A man smiled at me, which was enough of an invitation to make an instant friend. I joined him in line, grateful for the rescue.

We made small talk, but then I looked up and saw another man standing nearby.

Tall. Handsome. A Caribbean rhythm in his voice. Something about him stopped me. It was an immediate knowing — the kind that sounds ridiculous when you say it out loud.

I was looking at my husband.

He was from Trinidad and Tobago and had only arrived in America three days earlier. This was his first time in the US. He wasn't trying to impress me with what he had or who he knew. He was calm, sure of himself, and something about him made me feel safe.

We've since built a life together

The next day, after barely 24 hours, I said something that still shocks me.

"I don't know where Trinidad is on the map," I told him. "But I'll follow you wherever you go."

I meant it. Thirteen years later, I am married to him and raising our children in Trinidad and Tobago. I moved here because it felt like a beautiful place to raise my children.

They get to grow up climbing mango, coconut, and plum trees in our backyard, connected to nature in a way I didn't experience growing up in inner-city Baltimore.

The hardest adjustment has been being far from my immediate family, but the peace and simplicity here have been worth it.

I went to Las Vegas looking for business advice. I left with a future I could never have planned for myself.

• Laura Pollacco was struggling with depression and moved to Japan for two years to teach English.
• After returning home, she realized her career prospects and professional network were stronger in Tokyo, so she moved back.
• Now 31, working as a freelancer, and engaged, she's torn over where to build her future.

At 22, heartbroken, depressed, and unsure about my future, I craved novelty and adventure, so I packed up my life in England and moved to Japan.

Now, 31, living in Tokyo, and more secure than I've ever felt in my adult life, I can't help but feel that creeping depression, pushing me to pack my bags once more.

In my early 20s, upending my life felt exciting. Now, in my 30s, it just feels indecisive.

In 2016, I'd graduated with a degree in fashion photography and was working three part-time jobs in my university town to scrape by while simultaneously trying (and failing) to get over intense heartbreak. I was struggling.

Hobbies like theater and kung fu had lost their shine, my future felt vast and uncertain. I wanted a fresh slate.

During my personally elected studies into Japanese fashion and aesthetics, I fell in love with Japan. My dissertation was titled "The rise of gender neutrality and its origins in Japanese design." I even visited a friend studying abroad there in 2015, and that brief but fantastic sojourn left me thinking — somewhat naively — "I could live here."

A year later, in my depressed state, that thought resurfaced. Then it became all I could focus on.

I needed to move to Japan

The move wasn't completely off the cuff ー I'm not spontaneous enough for that. I applied to and was accepted into the JET Program, an organization that recruits thousands of graduates to teach English.

Rather than a traditional school placement, I was based at an education center in Kanagawa, about an hour from Tokyo, with occasional assignments at local high schools.

I threw myself into adapting: learning the rhythms of a new culture, working on my basic Japanese skills, and exploring my new environment. With every mountain climb, temple visit, and ramen bowl, I felt the blanket of depression start to fall from my shoulders.

I put myself out there once again, starting new hobbies such as MMA, kendo, and ikebana while reviving my old passions like drama. These led to new connections and opportunities. I felt reborn.

Japan had rekindled my passion for life. Feeling I'd gotten all I could from my teaching role, I decided to leave Japan with the goal of picking up where I was prior to my depressive episode.

Life back in Europe

I returned to the UK only for the pandemic to cut right across all my well-laid plans. Like most of the country, I was trapped inside, questioning my life decisions, especially about leaving Japan.

I was better connected in Tokyo's creative circles than in the UK, I had support in Japan, and the cost of living was considerably lower. I decided to move back, this time not out of depression, but out of hope and ambition.

In 2022, I returned on a working holiday visa, juggling remote freelance writing gigs with pitching to local publications. I pushed hard until, when my working holiday visa came to an end, I had enough work behind me to switch to the journalism visa in 2023.

Despite expanding my client list and gaining experience, my original fire began to flicker, then sputter, and more recently, it's felt like I'm helplessly blowing on the embers to keep them from going out. I was burned out.

Depression was setting in again. I experienced fatigue, a lack of interest in my hobbies, a desire to be left alone, all while self-flagellating my lack of ambition and for "settling" in my career.

My loving fiancé — whom I met here in Japan — was starting to worry to the point where he offered to cover the cost of online therapy. During these sessions, I realized that, for the first time since moving back to Japan, I was starting to feel homesick.

Living in a foreign country is tough

For starters, while I speak enough to get by, not speaking fluent Japanese is exhausting. As a multifaceted freelancer, immigration's restrictive boxes feel like a choking dog collar yanking me back from new opportunities, not to mention the new gray hairs I gain with every annual visa renewal.

On top of that, I've felt a rise of anti-foreigner sentiment, and Tokyo's concrete jungle is starting to feel claustrophobic and repressive.

In recent months, my brain has been flooded with ideas of returning back to the pastoral days of my youth. Stone cottages with actual gardens, walks down country paths with a dog by my side, fully understanding what's being said to me at a doctor's visit.

But I can't tell if I'm truly wanting to return to England or if I'm trying to escape back into a childhood where responsibilities were minimal.

I've worked so hard to get to and stay in Japan, I don't know whether to push through what could simply be a low period and wait to get to the other side, or whether my gut, my instinct, is trying to tell me something.

When it comes to big life choices like these, I realize I'll only find out if it was the right decision after the fact. I just hope that, whatever my partner and I choose to do, we make the best of that decision.

• It took me a while to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.
• When I realized I wanted to be a teacher, I wasn't willing to take on student loan debt.
• I used income from my side hustle, freelance writing, to get my master's debt-free.

It took me a while to figure out what I wanted to be. After having kids, I finally knew, but didn't have time. Only in midlife did I make the transition to my dream career — but first, I had to find a way to pay for it.

After high school, I started college as a drama major. I dreamed of heading to Hollywood. When the major wasn't what I had hoped, I decided on English instead. I'd gotten straight As in the subject in high school. It just made sense. That is, until people asked what I planned to do with my liberal arts degree.

There seemed to be very few options. I could go into publishing. But, according to my professor, I'd be dirt poor and living in a hovel in New York City — at least at first. Teaching was another common suggestion, but I had zero interest in it at the time. Besides, it required more schooling. Instead, like many 20-somethings, I floundered as I searched for myself and a career path.

After floundering, I finally figured out what I wanted to do

I shifted from job to job. I worked as a waitress and a chiropractic assistant before I was, unhappily, dropped smack dab into corporate America. I had stints in office management, webinar coordination, and marketing. I would go into the office and wonder if I was contributing to humanity in any way.

When I walked my son into kindergarten, I realized I loved being in an elementary school. I wanted to get my teaching degree, but with young kids and a full-time job, it didn't feel realistic. Ironically, after years of saying I'd never teach, that's exactly what I wanted. Instead, I stayed miserable in corporate America.

Heading back to school was expensive

A decade later, I finally found myself working in the school system as an educational technician, or an ed tech — essentially a teaching assistant. Special education quickly became my niche, especially since so few wanted to substitute in that area. That experience made the transition to a special education ed tech natural.

Ed techs made very little money. I would have to go back to school to become a teacher if I wanted to make a living. But I already had large debts from my undergraduate degree in English and my first master's in television/video production. I was still paying them off in my 40s. I wasn't willing or able to take on more student loan debt. The district I worked in as an ed tech would pay for three of the 10 classes I was required to take to earn my master's in education.

But when I did the math, I saw it wouldn't work. With four kids at home, we could barely keep up as it was. Taking on loans would be an extra burden we couldn't manage, so I kept plugging away without a clear plan for paying for my second master's degree.

My side gig helped

I had always loved writing. I wrote short stories and other fiction. Writing non-fiction never interested me. But after starting a blog about parenthood, I built a following. I'd started freelancing in 2014 after learning to pitch. It was a slow start and an even slower build. I sold one essay, which led to another.

When the pandemic hit, my freelance writing income almost matched my full-time ed tech pay. I wrote about parenting, childhood, and lifestyle topics. It was a learning curve to move into reported pieces, but my English degree was finally starting to pay off. What started as a hobby had become a lucrative side gig.

That insight led me to realize I could use my freelance earnings to fund the seven classes my district didn't cover. With planning and consistency, I put away enough to pay my tuition. I started my master's in 2019 and finished it in 2021 debt-free. It was an amazing feeling. I have been working as a special education teacher since 2022, and I love it.

Now, I'm hoping to do the same to get my Ph.D. in education. Funny how sometimes, the things you promise you'll never do become the ones that matter most — and the ones you work the hardest for.

• I moved from Michigan to Denver because of the hiking trails.
• I quickly met a great group of friends and built a strong community.
• But as the cost of living rises in Denver, my friends continue to move away.

Two things prompted my move from Michigan to Colorado in 2017: the mountains and a tight-knit group of friends that loved the outdoors as much as I did.

As a 20-something hiker who couldn't get enough trail time, my hometown started to feel stifling, like the state lines were confining my happiness. After backpacking the 2,200-mile Appalachian Trail in 2015, Denver felt like the promised land, so I moved.

Within a year, half a dozen hiking friends followed, planting themselves in the foothills alongside me. But thanks to the rising costs, the community I built didn't last long.

Moving to Denver came with a promise

At first, Denver delivered everything I had hoped for. The economy hummed, the people were warm, and the mountains were brutal and unforgiving, exactly as I wanted.

My first FriendsGiving filled the house with familiar faces, food, and laughter that spilled into the early morning hours. Countless faces I'd seen along the Appalachian Trail dotted my living room, and for the first time in years, I genuinely felt at home.

I fell into a rhythm over the next several years, growing my career, my community, and my mountain skill set. But eventually the novelty of being in Colorado faded, and those rose-colored glasses came off. Denver was expensive.

The pandemic struck, inflation ballooned, and the state's existing fault lines cracked open. Colorado is now the sixth-least affordable state in the country. The cost of living had my friends doing the math and not liking what they found.

My friends started moving away

The first friend to go was my college roommate. We'd claimed Colorado as our home years earlier, hopeful for all the state's promises. But she'd done the numbers and found that homeownership on a single income in Denver wasn't in her cards. Her mother's declining health and a softer market back home made it hard to rationalize the grind. A few months later, she signed a three-bedroom lease in western Michigan for less than she'd paid for her Denver studio.

Her departure awakened my own doubts. I wasn't sure that I wanted to own a home, so purchase prices didn't haunt me the same way that they'd haunted her.

But rent was another story. I started doing my own math, late at night, in the way you do when you're not quite ready to admit what you're calculating.

Within a year, two of my best friends announced they were heading to Arizona. They didn't want to leave, but Phoenix offered cheaper housing and a family network that Denver lacked. This loss felt heavier than the first, marking a pattern that was forming.

I remember standing in the driveway, watching a small caravan of U-Hauls disappear down the road when an ache bloomed in my chest. Part of me felt something close to gratitude, knowing they were choosing the lives they wanted rather than clinging to Colorado out of habit or convenience.

But a quieter part of me wondered if I was next. If the village was gone, what was keeping me here? Was I staying in Colorado for the love of the place, or because I hadn't yet worked up the courage to consider that it wasn't my forever home?

I had a personal reckoning

One morning, I found myself alone at a trailhead that I'd visited hundreds of times before. The wind whistled as I began my ascent, and the familiarity of dirt trails eased my sorrow as I climbed.

I'd spent years using the mountains as medicine whenever life became too loud, heavy, or uncertain. They'd been a constant I'd craved: tall, indifferent, and unmoved by the concerns of men.

I wondered what my life would look like if I maintained my conviction to stay. Although the landscape of my life kept shifting like tectonic plates, I was exactly where I wanted to be. I decided to stay in Denver and build a new community.

• When I was a kid, I thought adults follow the same path: fall in love, buy a house, and have kids.
• By the time I was 30, I hadn't reached any of those milestones.
• I've slowly realized the life plan never worked for me, and I'm OK with where I'm at now.

I have been a hopeless romantic for as long as I can remember. Not just in relationships, but in how I imagined my life would unfold.

Growing up in Mexico, I had a very specific idea of where I would be at 30. I thought I would be married with three kids, living in a big house in my hometown, surrounded by family and a stable routine.

Sometime in my 30s, I realized I had built a life completely different from the one I had planned. And that's OK.

I built my expectations based on what I saw growing up

As a kid and teenager, adulthood felt structured and predictable. The path was clear. You studied, built a career, found a partner, and settled down. Most of the adults around me followed or aimed for the same sequence. It created a sense of certainty.

My family reinforced those ideas in practical ways. Stability and staying close to home were important. Building a life that looked familiar to previous generations was seen as success. There was no formal pressure, but the expectations were always present in conversations, decisions, and examples.

Pop culture added another layer. Movies and television consistently showed people reaching major life milestones by their early 30s. Marriage, children, and home ownership were presented as the natural progression of adulthood. It made it feel universal.

For years, I made decisions assuming I was moving toward that outcome. I focused on education and career choices that would give me stability. I saw my 20s as preparation for the life I expected to have in my 30s. I did not question the plan because it felt like the only one available. But something started to feel off.

The further I went, the less the plan made sense

The shift did not happen all at once. It came through a series of decisions and realizations over time. Looking back, a lot of it came from following a playbook that was not written for me. It was shaped by a different generation, in a different economic and social context.

The more I tried to apply that model to my own life, the less it worked. The markers of success I had grown up with did not feel as accessible or even as relevant. Still, I kept moving forward, thinking that if I did enough of the right things, I would eventually arrive at the life I had imagined.

That belief shaped major decisions. I traveled around the world, moving from Mexico City to New York and later to London, partly driven by ambition and partly by the idea that progress meant getting closer to that version of adulthood.

But each move did the opposite. It created more distance from the life I had originally planned, while also exposing me to entirely different ways of thinking about work, relationships, and success.

By the time I reached my 30s, the gap was clear. I was not married. I did not have children. I did not own a house in my hometown (or anywhere else). At first, that difference was difficult to ignore. I compared myself to the timeline I had in mind and felt behind. Letting go of that comparison took time, especially because it was tied to how I had learned to define success growing up.

The differences forced me to define success on my own terms

Over time, I realized that the life I had planned was not actually built for me. It was assumed that my priorities would stay the same and that the world around me would not change. In reality, both had shifted.

Those decisions changed me. I am not the same person who dreamed of that plan. I no longer rely on inherited playbooks to guide my choices. I became more intentional about how I spend my free time and who I spend it with. Relationships became less about proximity and more about effort. Career decisions became less about following a linear path and more about building something sustainable and meaningful.

I also started to measure success differently. Instead of focusing on specific milestones by a certain age, I began to look at whether my daily life reflected what I valued. That included the type of work I was doing, the relationship I was building, and the environment I was living in.

My life is less predictable than I expected it to be at 30. I do not have the fixed structure I once associated with adulthood. However, I have more control over my decisions and a clearer understanding of what works for me. I know who I am. And I have peace. That's the best thing that could ever happen to me.

This 'as-told-to' essay is based on a conversation with Juli Ford, a 57-year-old real estate agent and certified senior advisor based in Massachusetts. It has been edited for length and clarity.

When my children were young, we saw my parents all the time.

We lived very close to each other in South Plymouth, Massachusetts, and my parents always helped with the kids. From the time they were born, Wednesdays were Grammy and Grampy Day.

My dad got sick in 2005. When we learned in the summer of 2011 that he probably didn't have much time left, we talked about what life would be like after he was gone, including where my mom would live.

When he passed in December 2011, my mom was not ready to live with us. At 68, she had never lived on her own. She'd been with my dad since she was 15.

Then, in April 2015, a house in Pembroke, Massachusetts, about 30 minutes from South Plymouth, came on the market. The second I saw it online, I thought, "Oh, this is perfect."

The house had a beautiful in-law apartment

The house is 4,300 square feet, and the basement is about 800 square feet. Upstairs, there are three bedrooms and 3.5 bathrooms.

My mom fell in love with the home's basement apartment. It's full of beautiful natural light. It's one bedroom with a den, a full kitchen, a fireplace, its own laundry, 1.5 baths, its own outdoor patio, and two entrances.

We made an offer within two days. We bought the house in April 2015 for $630,000.

My mom had no interest in ownership. Instead, she made a financial contribution toward the down payment equal to what she would have paid in rent for the next five years.

She also gave us money every year for utilities. Last year, she started making a bigger monthly contribution to help cover household expenses. She essentially has not had to pay rent for 10 years, and as the house gets older, the cost of maintaining it grows.

It was a dream when we first moved in

My mom helped me a lot with my kids, especially with their schooling. My kids were 10 and 11 when she moved in, and they were homeschooled. We drove around a lot because we were going to museums and other activities in Boston. She sometimes helped with driving, and she became their English teacher because her first career was teaching English.

Grammy Wednesdays continued when we moved into the house, and my kids, who are 20 and 22 now, would go down and visit her on their own.

My mom has exceptionally good boundaries. I'm sure we did things differently than she would have done with our kids, but she's always been very good at keeping her opinions to herself.

My mom is still independent, but needs our help now

At 82, she's a bit less independent than she was 10 years ago because of health issues. Still, she has privacy: I don't know everything that she does all the time, and we can go days without seeing each other. Other times, we see each other a lot more often.

We have had a few medical emergencies with my mom, so I got in the habit of keeping my phone next to my bed. There have been a few times that she's had to call me.

I cannot imagine how much harder it would be to be a daughter of an aging mom if we weren't in the same house. I would be so much more concerned about her being alone and getting lonelier. It would be more time-consuming for me if I had to go somewhere else to support her.

The house gave us other financial benefits

In the beginning, the only financial benefit I really thought about of combining households was that we could get a nicer house than my husband and I could afford on our own.

Around the time we got this house, my brother's family went through a foreclosure after his wife had been hit by a drunken driver and had a traumatic brain injury. They had a lot of housing instability during that time because she was unable to work and had massive medical bills. They were not sure where they were going to live.

Because we combined households with my mom, we were able to tap into the equity in this house to help them. We took out a home equity loan and bought a small, lovely house, and rented it to them. We weren't really making any money on it, but the rent was paying the bills.

Within two years, they recovered their credit enough that they purchased the house from us. They were able to rebuild their financial well-being in that house.

We used the proceeds from the sale to buy a vacation property in Vermont, which we turned into an Airbnb for four years. When we sold it, we paid off our kids' student loans.

We were all able to build wealth because we combined households with my mom. We feel so proud and grateful. It's not something I saw coming 11 years ago.

I see multigenerational living as one of the most compelling solutions to our elder care and affordable housing crises. Bringing families together around this is really an underutilized solution.

A man with a mysterious case of full-body hives in Abu Dhabi. A Californian rushed to the hospital with a life-threatening allergic reaction. A fit, gym-going man in Texas with soaring blood sugar — inexplicably headed for pre-diabetes.

Doctors working on the bleeding edge of longevity care in high-end clinics around the globe — from concierge practices in wealthy enclaves of California to premier longevity centers in the Middle East — say they're seeing an uptick in both interest in, and injuries from, injectable peptides.

A peptide is simply a short chain of amino acids, too short to be called a protein. We have thousands of them in our bodies. Some are hormones like insulin, some help our muscles grow, some aid in healing. Injectable peptides promise people a boost on top of what nature delivers, such as deeper tanning, better fat burning, greater muscle growth, and improved wound healing. Still, rigorous human studies on these claims are often lacking.

As more people attend peptide "parties" and inject unknown substances sourced from friends or online dealers, doctors are sharing horror stories about some of the worst-case DIY peptide scenarios they've seen.

Many say they are putting out "fires" and dealing with bizarre, unexplained health issues that, after some medical investigation, end up being tied to unauthorized, grey-market peptide use. Injuries they've seen range from simple to serious, including minor injection site reactions and major hormonal disturbances.

Recently, at Dr. Nicole Sirotin's Institute for Healthier Living longevity clinic in Abu Dhabi, practitioners linked a case of full-body hives to an at-home peptide injection.

"These kinds of immune reactions," Sirotin said, "people might not be associating with the peptides."

That makes it hard to gauge how widespread peptide injuries are — from simple injection issues, to contamination, or improper dosing. Anecdotally, however, doctors say there's been a huge uptick in peptide use over the past year, fueled by influencers touting their benefits on social media.

Business Insider spoke to seven doctors, including some who use peptides in their practice and some who don't recommend them. They're concerned about growing interest in and willingness to experiment with unauthorized peptides.

Hives, messed-up hormones, and insulin resistance issues

People are drawn to peptides because they promise targeted, almost "shortcut" fixes for weight loss, muscle gain, and antiaging — often with little oversight from doctors.

They act like messengers in the body, influencing or acting as hormones that control growth, metabolism, and other key functions. Because these substances mimic normal hormonal processes in our bodies, they've developed a reputation as safe and "natural," though there are very few rigorous human studies to support that claim.

The effects of "stacking" multiple peptides into a daily or weekly regimen, including ones for fat loss, muscle growth, tanning, better hair and skin, have also not been studied.

Originally, bodybuilders were drawn to peptides for muscle gains and the promised benefits to physique. Then, post-COVID, biohackers were attracted to this style of do-it-yourself medicine, and now doctors told Business Insider that antiaging enthusiasts and affluent patients can't get enough of this stuff.

In Texas, Dr. Farhan Abdullah, the medical director at Magnolia Functional Wellness in suburban Dallas, said that over the past year, he's seen an uptick in moms, housewives, and "white collar people who are kind of approaching middle age" taking an interest in peptides.

"You look at RFK, and you look at what's going on, and you would think it's just a bunch of gym bros that are interested in peptides, and it's really not," he said.

There are dozens of peptides to choose from, and doctors stress that each should be evaluated individually.

Abdullah's patients tell the board-certified physician that they're often skipping the pharmacy, and sourcing their peptides online, or getting them secondhand from friends, like an injectable drug version of a Tupperware party.

In his worst-case scenario to date, one patient, who he described as a young "fit" man, developed early insulin resistance from a growth hormone-stimulating peptide that had him charting a course toward early diabetes. Because growth hormone and insulin counterbalance each other, excess stimulation may lead to insulin resistance, a risk not well studied in peptide use.

"This guy with no family history, he was a fit dude, he was jacked, he was working in the gym, had early insulin resistance," Farhan said.

Dr. Meena Verma, who runs Blue Coast Longevity clinic in Newport Beach, California, said one of her patients had a severe, life-threatening allergic reaction to a peptide shot and landed in the hospital "that night."

"Obviously, we see it all over social media — Instagram influencers — everybody is pitching peptides," she said. "Where the patients are getting their peptides is a big concern."

Dr. Lisa Cassileth, a plastic surgeon in Beverly Hills, said the worst issues she has seen so far have been minor, such as injection-site redness from unsterile pokes or improper storage of peptides. Other issues with peptide injections can stem from contamination issues.

Not all doctors are entirely against peptides, especially when used in controlled settings. Cassileth prescribes some peptides to her patients when they are recovering from surgery, but wouldn't recommend injecting them all the time or obtaining them from online sellers.

"Peptides are just going to be another drug," Cassileth, founder and CEO of The Practice Healthcare, said. "We just have to learn how to use them correctly."

Cassileth uses the very popular "Wolverine" peptide BPC-157, a compound that will be up for debate at a July FDA meeting. It is often sold online "for research purposes only," meaning it's not human-grade.

Cassileth sources hers from state- and federally-regulated compounding pharmacies, licensed as "503A" and "503B," which are held to a higher standard. She said she often uses BPC-157 on her patients after surgery as it's marketed to promote faster wound healing and tissue repair, but said it's not something people should take every day. She called it a "one-week" peptide.

"There's no hormone or enzyme in your body that just hits you nonstop in high doses," she said.

While she believes that the anti-inflammatory and reparative benefits outweigh the risks for short-term use, she wouldn't put someone on it indefinitely. "Don't do excess because you don't know what it does yet," she said.

Cassileth is hopeful that the practice of using peptides will develop into a well-studied approach for various conditions and be marketed by major pharmaceutical companies.

"Pharmaceuticals — go for it," she said. "Please save us from this thing being in some kind of weird space where only functional medicine people prescribe it."

Could peptides solve aging? Maybe someday.

Other longevity-focused doctors take a more measured stance on peptides and said far more research is needed in humans before doctors start prescribing these substances.

Dr. Andrea Maier, a professor of medicine at the National University of Singapore who runs the Chi Longevity Clinic at the Four Seasons there, said that the clinical evidence simply isn't there yet for a lot of these peptides.

"At the moment, we are hearing that peptides could solve the aging trajectory — and I think it might be right," Maier said. "I think we should study it well, to give it in a very well-regulated way."

When she hears of "peptide parties" and "peptide festivals," she worries about the potential for harm, where something is being injected with only "a thought that this might help."

Her concerns aren't just theoretical. Regulators are increasingly scrutinizing the fast-growing peptide market. The FDA has restricted several peptides over safety concerns and warned companies against selling unapproved versions online. In September, the agency announced it was cracking down on imposter versions of the weight loss shots semaglutide, tirzepatide, and retatrutide being imported from abroad.

Canadian authorities recently warned that unauthorized peptides can lead to hormonal imbalances, mood swings, blood sugar issues, organ damage, and tumor growth.

GLP-1 is the darling peptide

There is one all-star peptide that experts across the board said they endorse, use, and would like to study further for its effects on aging and longevity: GLP-1, the hormone-mimicking peptide behind Ozempic and Mounjaro.

"I have like 80% of my patients ask me about GLP-1s and 5% about peptides," Dr. Nima Afshar, a physician at Private Medical San Francisco, told Business Insider. "Even people that are pretty healthy, boy, they're thinking about [GLP-1s] because my patients are rational and they understand this is evidence-based, and it does seem to have some longevity benefit."

He doesn't broadly recommend the entire class of compounds, though. When his patients ask, "Should I be on peptides?" or say, "I've heard peptides can help" for things like an energy boost, improved muscle mass, or better libido, he generally says "no." Though he's open to adjusting that stance in the future as more data comes in.

Dr. Evelyne Bischof, who runs a healthy longevity medicine practice in Shanghai and Tel Aviv, said she is not "radically against" peptide use, but her patients only use FDA-approved peptides like Ozempic, "and only from very reliable providers." She has concerns about unauthorized peptides causing allergic reactions, or including extra substances that aren't listed on the label, like steroids.

"I don't think any scientists would be anti-peptide," Sirotin, the longevity doctor in Abu Dhabi, said. "We're just anti-self-experimentation with random molecules that are research-grade."

"Partly, the reason I think it's so concerning is because these are presumably healthy people who want to be healthier," she said. "The problem is you might be entering a one-way door, and you damage your liver, or you damage your kidneys."

• High-protein drink options have been expanding, from shakes to chips and even beer.
• I ranked 14 high-protein drinks and thought Fairlife's Core Power, OWYN, and Nesquik were the best.
• Some of the drinks had as much protein as a chicken breast.

It looks like the protein craze is here to stay, whether to help achieve personal fitness goals or to preserve muscle mass while taking GLP-1 medications.

Over the past few years, high-protein products have taken over grocery store aisles, from pasta to chips, and they don't seem to be slowing yet.

The US government's Dietary Guidelines for Americans, released earlier this year, emphasized the role of protein and dairy products in its recommended daily diet, although dietitians have cautioned against protein-maxxing at the expense of other nutrients.

More people are reaching for ultra-high-protein products, and if you remember the 1990s' meal-replacement milkshake craze, these drinks might feel a bit familiar.

Nutritional shakes — whether they're used by athletes seeking nutrients on the go, parents to supplement their growing children's diets, or adults with dietary needs seeking to pack in as many nutrients in a compact, easily digestible form — aren't new to everyone's diets.

To better understand the high-protein drinks on sale today, I visited two New York City grocery stores and picked up every drink that advertised its protein content, with the lowest having 12 grams of protein, which is as much as two eggs.

I tried every brand's chocolate flavor to best compare their tastes and ranked all 14 based on flavor, as well as considering their nutritional content and price-to-value.

In general, I looked for drinks that tasted chocolatey, were sweet enough to serve as a sweet treat without going overboard, and were overall enjoyable to drink on their own.

It's worth noting that many shakes on the market are considered ultra-processed foods, which the new government guidelines recommend avoiding.

Here's how I ranked them, from lowest to highest.

14. Remedy Organics Cacao Essentials Protein Shake

Cost: $4.99 for 12 fluid ounces

Calories: 210 calories

Protein: 16 grams

Added sugar: 7 grams

The taste of the Remedy Organics Cacao Essentials Protein Shake was what I could best describe as healthy.

The date-sweetened drink is packed with plant-based ingredients, including adaptogens like ashwagandha and maca root powders as well as tapioca prebiotic powder.

But taste-wise, they weren't as sweet-treat-like as some of the other shakes. It tasted strongly of cacao, but it felt a little chalky, and seemed saltier than it did sweet.

While I liked the drink's ingredients, I really disliked the taste. If you're looking for a plant-based, adaptogen-full drink that will also help you reach protein goals, this could be an option for you — but don't go into it expecting a sweet chocolate milk type of drink.

Flavor rating: 1/10

Overall rating: 6/10

13. Muscle Milk Zero Sugar Chocolate Protein Shake

Cost: $3.99 for 14 fluid ounces

Calories: 170 calories

Protein: 25 grams

Added sugar: 0 grams

When I first poured the Muscle Milk Zero Sugar shake, I noticed just how dark and thick it was. Tasting it, I found that it was way too sweet for my taste. This, combined with the thick texture, made for a pretty interesting drinking experience — I had to wash down the shake with some water to follow up the sweet taste left in my mouth.

Although I couldn't finish drinking the small taste I'd poured myself, it also had the fewest calories and grams of sugar in the ranking, the highest fiber, and I felt like the protein payoff was great, which made the overly sweet taste feel more like a trade-off.

If you're trying to get half of your daily protein in as few calories as possible while also watching out for sugar content, this drink might be good to have on your radar … but you'll have to remind yourself of the nutrients in every sip.

Do it for the protein, bro.

Flavor rating: 3/10

Overall rating: 6/10

12. Koia Cacao Bean Protein Shake

Cost: $4.99 for 12 fluid ounces

Calories: 190 calories

Protein: 18 grams

Added sugar: 4 grams

Compared to some of the other protein drinks, I found Koia's Cacao Bean protein shake to be very thin and light in color when I first poured it.

Its flavor, as the name would indicate, is very cacao-bean forward. To me, it tasted exactly like cacao nibs, which can lean more nutty and earthy than chocolate-y.

In a statement to Business Insider, Koia said the Cacao Bean protein shake is "crafted to highlight cacao's naturally bold, slightly bitter profile rather than masking it with excessive sweetness or artificial flavoring," resulting in a flavor that "may be less sweet than traditional protein shakes."

The almond-based, monk-fruit-sweetened drink, which isn't too sweet and packs in plant-based ingredients like rice, pea, and chickpea protein and a prebiotic blend, wasn't one of my favorites for taste, although it was fairly competitive with the other options in terms of nutrients.

Flavor rating: 4/10

Overall rating: 5/10

11. Chocolate Sport Shake

Cost: $2.00 for 11 fluid ounces

Calories: 350 calories

Protein: 12 grams

Added sugar: 39 grams

I found the flavor of the chocolate Sport Shake to be one of the most enjoyable in the ranking, and it reminded me a lot of plain chocolate milk — it was very, very sweet. I also liked that it didn't taste too much like dairy, something that bothered me with other drinks in the lineup.

However, the drink's sweet and tasty flavor was overshadowed by its ultra-high added sugar content of 39 grams, or more than 9 teaspoons.

While the drink has some fiber in it, coming in with 3 grams, and it was the cheapest of the ranking, I couldn't justify that much sugar. I will probably not reach for this again.

Flavor rating: 8/10

Overall rating: 1/10

10. Nesquik Chocolate Low Fat Milk

Cost: $2.50 for 14 fluid ounces

Calories: 250 calories

Protein: 14 grams

Added sugar: 18 grams

I was shocked when I learned that Nesquik's classic chocolate milk could be considered a nutritional drink.

At 14 grams of protein, as advertised on the bottle, the drink has more grams of protein per serving than other drinks labeled as protein drinks.

Tasting it was just as nostalgic as expected. Compared to some of the other drinks, however, I noticed it had a stronger dairy taste and was very sweet, with a total of 18 grams of added sugar.

I also noticed that the bottle recommended a portion of half a bottle, probably due to the drink's high sugar content, which would also result in half the protein intake overall.

I probably wouldn't have reached for this in adulthood if not to compare it here, and I probably won't really reach for it again.

Flavor rating: 6/10

Overall rating: 4/10

9. Muscle Milk Pro Knockout Chocolate Protein Shake

Cost: $5.99 for 14 fluid ounces

Calories: 220 calories

Protein: 40 grams

Added sugar: 0 grams

Like its low-sugar version, the Muscle Milk Pro looked dark and thick. Taste-wise, the drink was sweeter than chocolate-y, and I didn't love the flavor.

Although the drink packs an impressive 40 grams of protein in 14 ounces and 220 calories, has the highest ratio of protein to fluid ounces, and also has the highest fiber content in the list, the taste was one of my least favorites, and I had to wash it down with some water after tasting, as it had such a lingering flavor on the tongue.

When considering the nutritional aspects of the drink, however, I felt like the taste was a solid trade-off for one of the most protein-efficient drinks in the ranking, having the second-highest amount of grams of protein in a single bottle.

But if you're strictly going for the ultra-high-protein option, the Fairlife Core Power Elite — which comes later in this ranking — might be a better bet for flavor.

Flavor rating: 4/10

Overall rating: 7/10

8. OWYN Pro Elite Chocolate Protein Shake

Cost: $4.49 for 12 fluid ounces

Calories: 200 calories

Protein: 32 grams

Added sugar: 0 grams

When I first poured the OWYN — which stands for Only What You Need — Pro Elite Protein Shake, it looked much thicker than some of the other drinks in the ranking.

It tasted vastly different from the others, too. The ingredients gave some clues as to why: The main ingredients — water, pea protein, pumpkin protein, and flaxseed oil — were completely different from the other shakes.

The plant-based, dairy-, soy-, and wheat-free drink, which contains 3 grams of prebiotics, uses monk fruit extract to sweeten its cocoa-heavy flavor, and also has a greens blend that includes spinach, kale, and broccoli.

I figured that the odd flavor I experienced was perhaps due to some of its most health-forward ingredients, like the greens blend.

In a statement to Business Insider, OWYN said that the exclusion of artificial sweeteners and sugar alcohols in the formula "sometimes means a more natural, earthy taste profile," when compared to their regular shake, which uses a blend of organic cane sugar and monk fruit.

Ultimately, I wasn't a fan of the taste and probably wouldn't reach for this drink again, although nutrition-wise, it was a solid ultra-high-protein plant-based option.

Flavor rating: 5/10

Overall rating: 6/10

7. Fairlife Core Power Elite Chocolate High Protein Milk Shake

Cost: $5.99 for 14 fluid ounces

Calories: 230 calories

Protein: 42 grams

Added sugar: 0 grams

One of three protein shakes in Fairlife's line, the Core Power Elite shake was a bit thinner than many of the other drinks I tried.

It was less sweet than Fairlife's regular chocolate milk, which I didn't mind. However, it had a much stronger dairy taste — I don't love the taste of dairy milk, so this worked against the drink for me.

Still, its insane amount of protein — as much as a whole chicken breast — earned it extra points in my ranking.

This drink was something I didn't mind drinking, even if I wouldn't usually go for it. Even as a non-gym-bro, I would probably reach for this drink if I were trying to get well over half of my needed protein for the day in a single serving.

Flavor rating: 5/10

Overall rating: 8/10

6. Chocolate Nutrament

Cost: $2.50 for 11 fluid ounces

Calories: 330 calories

Protein: 15 grams

Added sugar: 29 grams

When I poured the chocolate Nutrament, I noticed its consistency was among the runniest in the ranking.

The drink, the second-cheapest drink in the lineup, tasted just like chocolate milk, although it was still a bit too sweet for me.

I also noticed it had a long ingredients list with many unfamiliar terms, but on closer inspection, some seemed to be added vitamins and minerals. The drink also had the second-highest added sugar content at 29 grams.

The high sugar and comparatively low protein knocked this drink down a few points for me, and although I enjoyed it, I probably wouldn't reach for this.

Flavor Rating: 9/10

Overall Rating: 5/10

5. Fairlife Chocolate Ultra-filtered Milk

Cost: $3.29 for 14 fluid ounces

Calories: 250 calories

Protein: 23 grams

The second in Fairlife's line, its chocolate ultra-filtered milk, was another nostalgic offering.

It was very sweet, but if I were craving chocolate milk, this is definitely the option I would choose.

While it's not marketed as a protein drink, it contains 23 grams in a 14-ounce bottle and has the second-lowest cost per gram of protein.

Flavor rating: 7/10

Overall rating: 7/10

4. Rich Chocolate Boost Plus Nutritional Drink

Cost: $18.99 for a six-pack of 8-ounce bottles (or $3.17 for 8 fluid ounces)

Calories: 360 calories

Protein: 14 grams

Added sugar: 18 grams

While some of the drinks in this lineup are aimed at the ultra-protein-efficient crowd and others are more directed at children, the Boost nutritional drink line is marketed toward adults with specific nutritional needs. The Boost Plus product, specifically, is aimed at adults hoping to gain or maintain weight.

Taste-wise, this was one of my favorites. The sweet and rich drink was very chocolatey, and it felt like a nice sweet treat.

With the product's purpose in mind, the drink's higher calories didn't bother me, and I was pleased to see its nutrition label flooded with vitamins and minerals.

Out of many of the options, this is one I could see myself reaching for solely based on its taste, even though I wish it had a higher protein content.

Flavor rating: 9/10

Overall rating: 7/10

3. Nesquik Protein Power Chocolate Milk Beverage

Cost: $3.00 for 14 fluid ounces

Calories: 290 calories

Protein: 23 grams

Added sugar: 18 grams

When I poured this drink, I was surprised by how runny it was compared to some of the other options. I really enjoyed the taste, even if it wasn't exactly the same as the nostalgic chocolate-milk flavor of Nesquik's classic option.

In fact, I actually liked this one more, even before factoring in the added nutritional value. It was adequately sweet, not too dairy-tasting, and it didn't have the aftertaste that had put me off the classic option.

With 23 grams of protein, this drink could compete with some of its more nutrition-leaning counterparts. At $3 for a bottle, it was also one of the cheapest options with the highest protein content.

I could totally see myself reaching for this.

Flavor rating: 8/10

Overall rating: 8/10

2. OWYN Dark Chocolate Protein Shake

Cost: $4.29 for 12 fluid ounces

Calories: 180 calories

Protein: 20 grams

Added sugar: 4 grams

Compared to the higher-protein drink on OWYN's line, the regular protein shake wasn't as dark or as thick when I poured it.

While the OWYN Pro Elite had a taste I didn't like, the OWYN Dark Chocolate Protein Shake had a simpler flavor that reminded me of chocolate milk.

It was very tasty and chocolatey, and I liked that it also had 3 grams of fiber.

Overall, this felt like a very solid option that I could see myself reaching for. It was also my favorite plant-based drink.

Flavor rating: 8/10

Overall rating: 10/10

1. Fairlife Core Power Chocolate High Protein Milk Shake

Cost: $4.99 for 14 fluid ounces

Calories: 170 calories

Protein: 26 grams

Added sugar: 0 grams

While this drink didn't exactly feel like a dessert or chocolate milk since it leaned more chocolatey and cocoa-tasting than sweet — and it did have somewhat of a dairy taste — I still found it very enjoyable and a very nice pick for both taste and protein.

Tied with the Muscle Milk Zero Sugar for the lowest calories in the ranking, I found the Fairlife Core Power shake much more enjoyable and even winning by a gram in the protein category.

Overall, this drink had the best balance between flavor and nutrition, and I can see myself reaching for it whenever I need a quick post-workout pick-me-up or just want to get a significant portion of my daily protein on the go.

Flavor rating: 8/10

Overall rating: 10/10

• Meta and YouTube were found negligent in a landmark social media addiction trial.
• The case centered on a woman who said social media harmed her mental health from a young age.
• The case is viewed as a key test of how juries may see dozens of similar pending lawsuits.

Meta and Google were found negligent in a social media addiction trial in Los Angeles on Wednesday, potentially setting the stage for dozens of similar lawsuits that have been brought against Big Tech companies.

The case centered on a 20-year-old woman, identified as KGM, who said her use of social media from a young age was detrimental to her mental health and accused the companies of knowingly engineering their products to addict kids.

After nine days of deliberation, the jury found Meta, the parent company of Facebook and Instagram, and Google, which owns YouTube, negligent. In a 10-to-2 vote, the jury also ruled that the two companies knew their design was "dangerous" but failed to warn the plaintiffs.

The jury awarded the plaintiff $6 million. That's $3 million in compensatory damages and an additional $3 million in punitive damages.

The jury determined Meta was responsible for 70% of the harm, while YouTube was responsible for 30%. That means the total damages owed by Meta is $4.2 million, while YouTube owes $1.8 million.

The plaintiff's lead counsel, the Lanier Law Firm, called the verdict "a referendum" in a statement. "For years, social media companies have profited from targeting children while concealing their addictive and dangerous design features," the statement said.

Spokespeople for Meta and Google both said the companies disagreed with the verdicts and plan to appeal.

"Teen mental health is profoundly complex and cannot be linked to a single app," a Meta spokesperson said. "We will continue to defend ourselves vigorously as every case is different, and we remain confident in our record of protecting teens online."

"This case misunderstands YouTube, which is a responsibly built streaming platform, not a social media site," the Google spokesperson said.

The Los Angeles state court trial has been viewed as a bellwether, offering a key test of how juries may see similar personal injury lawsuits brought by over 2,000 individuals. Meta has said potential damages in certain cases could reach into the "high tens of billions of dollars."

TikTok and Snapchat were also defendants, but settled the lawsuit before the trial began.

Meta executives testified at the trial last month, including CEO Mark Zuckerberg and Head of Instagram Adam Mosseri, drawing large crowds of media and concerned parents, including some involved in other social media addiction lawsuits. YouTube's VP of engineering, Cristos Goodrow, also testified.

The companies have argued that plaintiffs' struggles are due to myriad reasons and can't necessarily be linked to social media.

During Meta's closing argument at the Los Angeles trial, Paul Schmidt, one of the company's attorneys, said the plaintiff needed to prove that if Instagram were taken away from KGM, her "life would be meaningfully different."

"The evidence has shown just the opposite," Schmidt said.

In January, Meta warned investors that its mounting legal battles related to youth safety could "significantly impact" its 2026 financial results. Attorneys for more than 100,000 individual arbitration claimants have "sent mass arbitration demands relating to 'social media addiction'" since late 2024, the company said in a 2026 10-K, specifically noting the case in Los Angeles, as well as a separate case in New Mexico.

The New Mexico case, which occurred at the same time as the Los Angeles trial, addressed different legal and technical issues.

On Tuesday, a jury in New Mexico ordered Meta to pay $375 million after a verdict came down in the state's lawsuit against the company about sexual exploitation.

Meta said it would appeal the case.

• Mathilde Turco was unhappy with the appearance of her skin at 34.
• She considered cosmetic surgery and decided on a mini-facelift.
• The New Yorker flew to Seoul for the procedure, which, she said, gave her the desired result.

This interview is based on a conversation with Mathilde Turco, 34, a content creator and sales professional for an electrical contracting company from Brooklyn, New York. It has been edited for length and clarity.

Four years ago, when I entered my 30s, I began to notice sagging on my face and a general loss of elasticity, making me appear older than I was.

It really bothered me, especially when I was making videos as a content creator or having on-camera meetings in my sales job.

I'd pull my skin taut when I looked in the mirror, and it became a habit. As a perfectionist, I became a little obsessed and started thinking of ways to make my skin look younger.

The surgeons recommended a mini-facelift

Initially, I tried treatments such as resurfacing lasers and fillers, but I was still very aware of fine lines, especially around my mouth.

In the summer and fall of 2025, I consulted some cosmetic surgeons in New York about facelift surgery, and none of them said I was too young for it.

Instead, they recommended a mini-facelift, which is far less invasive than the deep-plane one I originally thought I needed, to also tighten my jawline. This would have involved a deeper scar.

Still, I was on a tight budget, so I widened my search abroad. I had online consultations with clinics in Tunisia, Colombia, and my native France before deciding on a place in the Gangnam district of Seoul.

South Korea attracted my attention because its cosmetic surgery industry uses innovative, high-tech techniques. I liked the natural look of the results.

I told my fiancé about my plans, but didn't tell too many other friends or family. I thought they'd be scared or tell me to wait until I'm older, but it's a very personal decision.

I'm a grown woman who can make up my own mind. I didn't want to worry them for no reason.

My girlfriend and I flew to Seoul a week before the surgery on February 9, 2026, and stayed for a total of a month.

I needed painkillers

One surgeon performed the mini-facelift — including an endoscopic forehead lift — and another doctor did my breast implants at the same time. The operation lasted around seven hours.

I woke up with some discomfort, but it was manageable with painkillers. There was a minimal incision around the hairline, and it started healing pretty quickly.

I was very careful and only ventured outside when the medical team said it was OK. Once the swelling and bruising had receded, I was able to go sightseeing with my friend again.

Back in New York City, I've been taking things easy as I fully recover. My eyebrows are still high, but they're settling back into place as each day and week go by.

The surgeon told me it would probably take up to six months for all the sensations in your temple area to return.

It's boosted my confidence

I did this for myself, and it's obviously not about him, but my fiancé seems to have appreciated the results. He's pleased that I'm pleased.

I look at my reflection and am so glad I went ahead with the procedure. I don't see those smile lines as much. It's given me a lot more confidence.

Some people have said, "Oh, you don't look that much different," which is fine by me. I want it to look as natural and as subtle as possible.

Jatee Kearsley built Je T'aime Patisserie in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn, with a mission to make high-quality French desserts accessible to everyone, including customers who pay with EBT.

A self-taught pastry chef who learned from YouTube and years of industry work, Kearsley went from losing money to tripling her sales after going viral. Despite the high ingredient costs, steep New York City rent, intense pressure, and emotional burnout, Kearsley has been dedicated to prioritizing community over profits.

• Candace Parker says one habit makes hectic mornings more manageable as a mom of three.
• "I'm a big Peloton person, so I like to do that and lift. I also use the sauna quite a bit," she said.
• The former WNBA star says even small beauty choices can reflect how she's feeling.

Candace Parker, 39, says she relies on one habit to get going on hectic days.

"I love slow mornings, but if I need a jolt because obviously the kids have school and work and all those things, I usually get up and work out," Parker told Byrdie in an interview published on Saturday.

The former WNBA player is a mom to three kids. She shares daughter Lailaa with her ex-husband, Shelden Williams, and sons Airr and Hartt with her wife, Anna Petrakova.

On those busy mornings, Parker often turns to a mix of cardio and strength workouts to get going.

"I'm a big Peloton person, so I like to do that and lift. I also use the sauna quite a bit," she said.

From there, she gets ready for the day and says even the smallest beauty choices can reflect how she's feeling.

"It's so funny because my friends can tell if I'm having a great day or not by whether my baby hair is done," she said.

Parker says her approach to wellness has evolved over the years. Looking back, she says she would've given her younger self more grace.

"As most athletes do, I kept moving the goalposts. Sometimes, it's okay to stop and smell the roses and realize this is what you worked your whole life for. This generation actually does that better — prioritizing mental well-being and self-care. It's inspiring," Parker said.

This isn't the first time Parker has spoken about how she stays fit.

Before retiring in 2024, Parker told Boardroom in 2023 that she prioritized working out even during the offseason, focusing on "really taking care of my body and making sure I'm getting my lift in."

In 2023, Parker also told Essence that Pilates challenged her more than she expected.

"Pilates is probably the hardest thing I've ever done in my life," she said. "I walked in there like, 'I'm strong! I lift weights.' This grandma [instructor] killed me, so I have tremendous respect for Pilates.'"

• Peng Lin Hua, 86, taught physics in China before retirement.
• He still leads an active life — in his 50s, he started doing headstands with his wife.
• Now, he exercises daily, enjoys brisk walks, and can do flips on a pull-up bar.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Peng Lin Hua, an 86-year-old retiree in Singapore. It has been translated from Mandarin and edited for length and clarity.

Before I retired, I taught physics at a secondary school in China. While working as a teacher, I met my wife at an event. She was a chemistry teacher, and we hit it off right away.

We were as active as the students we taught, spending our free time playing badminton, basketball, volleyball, and table tennis.

In my 50s, I began practicing headstands after learning about the exercise from a Taiwanese health guru. I was already fit, but I was looking for a way to build strength and stave off aging-related illnesses.

Retirement didn't slow us down. My wife and I kept playing sports, and I continued long-distance running.

Most days, I wake up at 5:30 a.m., blend fresh apples into a puree, and have it before heading downstairs with my wife to exercise. We begin with a walk and gradually pick up the pace, incorporating light exercises like stretching along the way.

In the afternoons, at home, I like to sing with my wife. She plays the violin and the erhu, a traditional Chinese two-stringed bowed instrument.

Before I turned 65, I went running every morning. After that, my heart could no longer handle the strain, so I stopped and switched to brisk walking instead.

After that, I focus on building my core and upper-body strength with a series of exercises on the horizontal and parallel bars. I finish off my routine by doing headstands with my wife.

About 20 years ago, my wife and I began traveling regularly to Singapore to visit our daughter, who lives here with her family, and to spend time with our grandchild.

Our granddaughter has since graduated from university and no longer needs looking after, which means we are free to head out for walks and explore on our own.

About 10 years ago, I was exercising at a fitness corner, doing pull-ups and dips on the bars, when a man approached me and struck up a conversation. He joined me for my workout, and we got to know each other.

He told me he was part of a fitness group for older adults and encouraged me to join. That was how I became a member of Team Strong Silvers. We are a group of older adults committed to keeping our bodies strong as we age.

A lot of people don't expect us to move the way we do, so we're sometimes invited to healthy-aging workshops and exercise sessions to demonstrate our workouts and inspire fellow seniors to keep moving.

Now, my wife and I split our time between the two countries, typically spending half the year in Singapore during China's colder autumn and winter months, and returning to China in the spring and summer.

Staying active has spared me many of the aches and fatigue that often trouble older travelers. I rarely feel stiff on long flights or worn out after a full day of walking, and I credit years of regular exercise for that resilience.

• Olympic gold medalist and soccer star Abby Wambach said a colonoscopy at 35 likely saved her life.
• The test found polyps that, with her family history of cancer, put her at high risk.
• Colon cancer is now the leading cause of cancer-related deaths under 50. Early screening is crucial.

At the height of her soccer career, Abby Wambach felt invincible.

A FIFA world champion, two-time winner of the Olympic gold with the US women's national team, and a record-setting goal scorer, she was at the top of her game and racking up awards.

"I was fit. I was capable. I was one of the best in the world, and I had medals to prove it," Wambach told Business Insider.

But when Wambach was 35, her mother was diagnosed with colon cancer. Considered at risk because of her family history, Wambach underwent a colonoscopy. The procedure found she had polyps, abnormal growths in the colon that can become cancerous.

At the time, the recommended age for colon cancer screening was 50. While not all polyps become tumors, 15 years could have been more than enough time for Wambach to develop cancer, potentially at a stage too late for treatment.

"If I didn't get that screening and waited, that absolutely could have killed me," she said.

Now, as colon cancer has become the No. 1 cause of cancer-related deaths in Americans under 50, Wambach is urging others to get screened.

She and her fellow Olympian, soccer champ, and podcast co-host Julie Foudy are raising awareness by partnering with Cologuard, a non-invasive, at-home stool test for adults 45 and older at average risk.

"It's one of the most preventable forms of cancer if you get screened," Foudy said. "Even if you feel fine, you have to get screened. It doesn't take that long."

Colon cancer cases are rising in young people

Wambach said colon cancer can affect anyone. As a pro soccer star, she was used to being in tune with her body to perform at an elite level. She never expected to have an abnormal colonoscopy, and she almost couldn't believe the results.

"When the doctor came and told me when I'm coming back from anesthesia, I was like, 'This can't be true,'" Wambach said. "It doesn't matter who you are; this can happen to anyone."

Early detection of colon cancer is key because the disease is highly treatable in the initial stages.

Symptoms of colon cancer often occur only in later stages, when the disease has spread elsewhere in the body, and the odds of survival are significantly lower.

"If you are feeling symptoms from colorectal cancer, it is too late," Wambach said.

That means it's crucial to understand potential risk factors, such as family history. Wambach said her mom's diagnosis was a turning point for the whole family to get screened.

"I just remember vividly the process that she went through, how scary it was, and how important it was for all of us to learn this," she said.

Colon cancer screening should start at age 45 for most people, according to the American Cancer Society. That's five years earlier than previously recommended, due to the growing number of early-onset cancer cases.

However, anyone with colon cancer risk factors, such as a genetic history or symptoms such as rectal bleeding, should get screened earlier.

A colonoscopy is the gold standard for colon cancer testing. Still, simple at-home stool tests like Cologuard are available for people 45 and older who are at average risk. Stool tests need to be done more frequently — every three years — and abnormal results require a follow-up colonoscopy.

Foudy, 55, has used the test herself. She said it's conveniently done in about 10 minutes at home and should be standard practice, but many women her age aren't up to date on screenings.

"I'm around active, healthy women all the time. I had a friend the other day who said, 'I've never gotten screened,'" she said. "What are you doing? This is too easy. Go get it."

• I took my first Peloton cycling class ever — in person.
• Led by Jess King, the 30-minute workout flew by and felt like a party.
• Despite the popularity of its virtual classes, Peloton is finding other ways to grow its business.

Admittedly, I missed out on the pandemic-era Peloton hype.

Even though most of my friends couldn't fit the iconic exercise bikes into their cramped New York City apartments, they still enjoyed the perks of a membership.

They'd do audio-only classes and keep up with the brand's rising stars. By osmosis, I knew who Ally Love was, and that she was teaching a themed ride to celebrate her wedding.

Years later, Peloton has had to adjust to a changing market. It reopened its in-person classes in 2022, launched AI-powered coaching features, and recently announced the launch of commercial gym bikes and treadmills.

After a pandemic-era subscriber surge and subsequent slowdown in growth, Peloton worked to find new ways to compete with in-person gym offerings, while also dealing with direct at-home workout competitors like Echelon and Tonal.

Amanda Hill, Peloton's SVP of Global Content Strategy and Programming, told Business Insider that the brand plans to triple its in-person events in 2026, including collaborations with SXSW, F1, and the London Marathon.

"Human connection is an essential part of our magic formula," Hill said. "Stoking community fuels our strong membership retention."

So when I got an invite from Culturelle Probiotics to try an in-person cycling class with Jess King, their chief wellness ambassador, I was intrigued. Having never taken a Peloton class before, I was curious: Would the experience feel as dazzling to someone who hadn't developed an attachment to its instructors?

I was starstruck despite being unfamiliar with Peloton

Before the class, the group of journalists and wellness influencers received a brief tour of Peloton's facilities. It has the feel of a traditional gym and polished content operation — where small, in-person classes double as live broadcasts to its global subscriber base.

Located in the Hudson Yards neighborhood of Manhattan, the studio spanned two floors and was probably the most pristine gym I've ever been in.

We glimpsed into one production room for the brand's virtual yoga class, a lone mat in front of loads of film equipment.

I could imagine the excitement of someone who took years of Peloton classes — to them, this would be the equivalent of a Hollywood tour.

The class felt like a production, too. The lights were dimmed to a universally flattering purple, and a Peloton employee adjusted everyone's bikes and helped them lock their shoes to their pedals.

Before King, who's one of the brand's stand-out personalities, emerged, an announcer mentioned going on the "ride of our lives." I turned to the woman next to me, who blurted out exactly what I was thinking: "This is like Disney World."

While I'm personally used to a lot less fanfare in my fitness classes, the intentionality felt nice. This wasn't just another workout squeezed in between waking up and hustling to work. It was 30 minutes of intense cycling mixed with the brand's signature affirming energy.

Peloton fans who attend these classes typically register up to six weeks in advance. The ones visiting New York treat signing up similarly to getting rush tickets to Broadway, employing all the tricks to ensure they snag a spot to see their favorite Peloton stars.

It isn't a class: It's an event, after all.

The class flew by because it felt like a party

Never having taken a virtual class with King, who, before Peloton, was a professional dancer and even a finalist on "So You Think You Can Dance," I still felt like I was in the midst of a celebrity when she entered the stage in fully bedazzled cycling shoes.

King seamlessly walked us through how to adjust our bikes' resistance with the muscle memory of someone who's done this since 2014. She possessed the same charisma and discipline of a seasoned actor. King also emphasized letting go and having fun with her EDM soundtrack — a less common gym class instruction, in my experience.

The 30-minute class zoomed by. Even as a complete newbie, the gear was easy to use, and there was enough variety to keep the class neither too boring nor tediously challenging.

King's words of encouragement, delivered with the cadence of a fitness star, also helped everyone relax into the workout.

It was a well-oiled production, which, ironically, is what made it feel so organic and fun.

Peloton isn't building more studios anytime soon

That being said, at this time, the brand isn't investing in building more studios outside its existing ones in New York and London.

I can understand the move. As someone who's attended my fair share of classes at both luxury gym franchises and mom-and-pops, many have fallen into the same trap: wanting to make more money through rapid expansion at the expense of gym-goers.

Eventually, this can lead to more squished and precarious circumstances. Three people sharing a strength training station. Rushing to snatch the last pair of dumbbells that work for you. Suddenly, you feel less like a member and more like a body to stuff into a studio.

Peloton exploded in popularity because of its personalities and how safe they made their fans feel during an otherwise unstable time in their lives. I appreciate Peloton holding on to that magic like a card to its chest — even when it's tempting to just be like every other fitness brand.

• This post originally appeared in the BI Today newsletter.
• You can sign up for Business Insider's daily newsletter here.

Colon cancer just got younger

Do you know the subtle signs and symptoms to look out for if you have colon cancer? Would you want to know, based on the research?

Even before March, which is Colorectal Cancer Awareness Month by the way, Business Insider has been laser-focused on covering how colon cancer not only affects our bodies, but our wallets. Our reporters and editors have spoken with over 100 patients, clinicians, researchers, and economists to analyze and document how this disease affects families, careers, and financial stability in younger patients.

This effort comes as colon cancer has officially been named the deadliest cancer in the US, replacing breast cancer and lung cancer, and shocking cancer researchers. And while the absolute number of colon cancer deaths in people under 50 is still small, the trend for young people with colon cancer is "going in the wrong direction," health correspondent Hilary Brueck writes.

Researchers believe that an unidentified change is driving the rise in colon cancer diagnoses. "It's some either environmental or behavioral exposure that was introduced in the last half of the 20th century," cancer epidemiologist Rebecca Siegel told Business Insider. "Whatever this change in exposure was, it's having a much larger influence on cancer development in the rectum."

To lower your risk, here are a few resources to read and bookmark:

• Take these steps to lower your risk of colon cancer at any age
• The early taboo symptoms millennials are afraid to tell their doctors about
• Colonoscopies are no fun. These at-home colon cancer screenings offer a shortcut.
• What colon cancer really costs in your 30s
• 5 young colon cancer patients share their lessons from living with the disease

• A "worry window" involves scheduling time to worry each day to prevent stress consuming our lives.
• The goal is delaying worrying to stay in the present moment, giving you more control.
• Health reporter Kim Schewitz felt more productive after trying it, but the pay-off wasn't big enough to keep going.

They say the only constant in life is change, but in my case, worry is on the list too.

How will I get my to-do list done in time? What if my alarm doesn't go off in the morning? Did I wish my cousin a happy birthday last month? Do my friends secretly hate me? Besides being relentless, taunting, and stressful, listening to my internal monologue is, frankly, time-consuming.

It feels like it robs hours of my life, draining my energy, and taking me out of the present moment. That's why, when my editor said she was looking for someone to try a technique designed to ease stress called a "worry window," I volunteered.

The technique involves making a note, mental or physical, when worries enter your mind throughout the day, and deferring thinking about them until a designated 15 to 30 minute window in which your only job is to, well, worry.

The aim is to delay worry and redirect attention to the present, over time giving you more control over anxiety.

There is no set way to do the worrying, but psychologists I spoke to recommended writing or typing out worries at around the same time each day in a relatively comfortable spot, but not in bed (you don't want to associate bedtime with worry).

"The muscle to build is to recognize you've written it down, it's going to be saved for your structured worry time, and then to redirect your attention," Dr. Simon Rego, professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Albert Einstein College of Medicine, told me.

In his experience, pretty quickly, people realize that if they defer worrying and stay in the moment, the anxiety starts to die down.

The worry window draws on key strategies used in cognitive behavioural therapy, rooted in the idea that our thoughts and actions impact how we feel, Rego said. Through discussion with a therapist and practical exercises, CBT is "a way of not getting stuck in just how you feel, but learning to see how what you feel is influenced by, and influences, your thoughts and actions," Rego said.

The worry window was created for people with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, he added, but can be helpful for anyone experiencing stress.

I had found myself more stressed than usual. Fretting constantly over my seemingly never-ending to-do list and struggling to relax at the end of the day. I was skeptical that the technique would make any difference, but I was willing to give it a shot.

I worried for 10 minutes a day for 2 weeks

For two weeks between 6 p.m. and 8 p.m., I sat at my desk with a notebook and pen, and set a timer for ten minutes.

I spent most of the time writing out a list of everything I needed to do, and dividing it into urgent (to be done today) and less pressing (in the coming days). I also noted down approximately how long I thought each task would take, to help me plan.

I spent the rest of the time writing about my stress-related thoughts and feelings.

In retrospect, I probably should have done the suggested 15-minute minimum, since studies testing the efficacy of worry windows used 15 to 30-minute sessions, but that felt unrealistic for me at the time.

As my insurmountable to-do list was a big part of my stress, I didn't set any rules or intentions, to make my worry sessions as stress-free and fluid as possible.

Knowing I would worry later helped me dismiss worries in the moment

Pretty soon after I started using the worry window, I noticed some small but tangible differences in how I coped with stress.

Writing down everything on my mind during the day helped me figure out what to prioritize, and I often realized I was making a mountain out of a molehill. It turned out that remembering to fold laundry or reply to a friend's message did not warrant triggering my fight-or-flight response.

I feel like I got more done during the two weeks than I usually would. Instead of spending time worrying about my to-do list, scheduling tasks reassured me they were taken care of. I was able to identify and do what was urgent, and let go of what wasn't. Similarly, when a pang of stress randomly hit me during the day, I often found that reminding myself I had already worried about this thing, or was scheduled to, helped me to dismiss it.

I also found myself using other CBT techniques I learned in the past, like analyzing thoughts, during the worry window. For example, I would write down the more existential worries I was having or negative self-talk, and that would help me see how mean I was being to myself and notice familiar patterns. That helped me unhook from those thoughts and feel better.

It's wasn't fun

The biggest challenge was sitting down and doing my worry window every day, because it wasn't particularly enjoyable.

It was another daily task and, after a long day, I generally just didn't feel like it. Admittedly, there were a few days when I was in the office and had a social plan after work that I ended up not completing my worry window.

Dr. Sarah Berger, a psychologist based in Bethesda, Maryland, who specializes in CBT and anxiety and often uses worry windows with clients, told me that my experience is common. "The major downside of this technique is getting people to do it," she said, "nobody enjoys this activity. It's not fun. It's not supposed to be fun."

But people who practise regularly typically get great results, she said. She recommended committing to a "short, almost training period of 'let's try this every day for two weeks and see how it works,'" she said.

Next time, I'll follow the rules strictly, for longer

After my two-week experiment, I stopped scheduling time to worry. I felt like I hadn't seen enough of an improvement to muster the discipline required to do a fairly unpleasant activity every day. However, after speaking to experts, my perspective on this changed a little.

As someone with entrenched worrying habits, I would probably need to follow the rules more strictly and continue for longer to see significant, long-lasting results.

Rego said to ask yourself: "How chronically have you worried in your life? Is it new? Does it seem to have emerged in the last few months, or have I been a worrier for my entire life?'

"Some of those factors can influence the amount of time required to really retrain the way you think," he said.

Initially, I thought of the worry window as a potential life hack, but, as with most things good for our health, it's not a quick fix.

"It's a short-term sacrifice, like going to the gym where you're going to feel some pain today for the long-term gain of making progress towards some sort of life balance or worry control," Rego said.

I plan to try again when I'm ready to fully commit.

• Srdjan Stakic vibe-coded a security camera system for his parents to ensure their safety.
• Stakic used vibe-coding platform Lovable to get started, as well as popular AI chatbots.
• His vibe-coded software became the basis for his AI-assisted startup Alvis.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Srdjan Stakic, 49, a former film producer who vibe-coded an AI system to monitor his elderly parents and detect falls. He's now launching a company that aims to offer the technology to others. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

When I was diagnosed with stage four cancer two years ago, AI became essential.

Everything was happening so quickly: The doctors would talk to me for 15 minutes and leave me with more questions than answers. AI gave me an objective way to document and make sense of what was happening.

I'm now in remission. As my health improved, my parents' health declined, and I began helping them with cooking, cleaning, and medical appointments.

English was not their first language, and communicating with healthcare providers was tough. I recorded our conversations with their doctors and compared them to the after-visit summary using AI. I would put together all this information and translate it into Serbian for them.

But I soon wanted more than what the chatbots could offer. I wanted a system that could observe what was happening with my parents, or any other patient, and assess it through the lens of safety and dignity. I would think of how much guilt I'd feel if something happened and I wasn't there. What kind of son would I be?

I had never coded before, and I didn't have millions for an initial investment

I don't have a background in coding. I have a doctorate in health education and a master's in film production, and I have produced some films of my own.

I started outlining my idea with Gemini and ChatGPT to examine it from a tech and ethical standpoint. I built this document of what I wanted to achieve. I kept asking my family how they wanted to be treated in each scenario — like a fall or medical emergency — and I wanted to make the system flexible.

Then I transferred to Lovable. Lovable gave me a live development environment where I could describe what I wanted, see it built in real time, test it, and iterate. It connected the pieces, the frontend, the backend, the database, the authentication, the integrations, things I did not even know I needed until they were there. The chatbots helped me plan. Lovable helped me build.

I uploaded hundreds of training videos for nurses and healthcare providers to train the AI. I created a high-fidelity validation pipeline and a labeled dataset. I labeled real-world caregiving footage with established clinical benchmarks, like Stanford's C-I-CARE framework. When you approach a patient and introduce yourself, you tell them why they're there, you ask the patient's name and pronouns, and you introduce what you're about to do. You explain next steps and see if they have any questions or concerns.

I also started building an AI equipped with cameras to identify falls. I would fall in the middle of my living room and see whether the system recognized that and how long it would take.

It took me a few months to make it work

I tried different cameras and protocols, but ultimately, I had to hire an IT company to help me connect multiple cameras. The system can now identify a fall and send notifications to loved ones or EMS, and provide their location with a brief summary of their health records. The system also analyzes interactions between caregivers and my parents. It's sophisticated enough to analyze in real time — based on audio and video — if a caregiver is being rude or unprofessional. My parents have felt safer since I built this. I also built a feature that scans their environment for any trip hazards, such as cables.

I don't want to spy on my family, so I don't actively review all the video footage. When a concern is flagged, the system clips approximately 30 seconds around that moment and notifies mewith a summary of what it observed and why. It can also generate an advocacy letter from that same analysis: what was said, what was done, and how the interaction compares to the C-I-CARE framework to evaluate caregiver conduct.

I launched a company to offer this tech to others

This all started as an idea for my family, but the more I talk about it, the more people tell me they wish they had this for their parents. So I decided to launch a startup, called Alvis, to make this system available to others.

It detects falls in real time, recognizes when a caregiver goes above and beyond, and generates advocacy letters when something goes wrong. It's in private beta and accepting waitlist applications for our pilot cohort, launching April 13. The model will be a monthly subscription, similar to what families already pay for camera cloud storage, with a premium tier for AI-assisted analytics.

This week, my mom was hospitalized, and I used AI in four ways

First, I used it as a real-time medical interpreter: Every lab result went straight into Claude, so I understood what was happening immediately, not the next morning when a doctor was free.

AI was also my clinical advocate. When a history and physical exam understated her cancer history, Claude caught it. When her glucose started climbing from steroids, Claude flagged it.

Third, I used AI to translate updates into patient-friendly language in both English and Serbian.

Finally, Alvis — the camera system I designed — was running live in her hospital room all night, with her permission and a nod from her care team. It picked up her saying in Serbian, quietly, that she had endured too much. It flagged when I visited, and we recorded ourselves together.

It's amazing to see how vibe coding is democratizing access to AI tools. You can build a company that helps a very niche group that needs a specific thing. I still don't fully understand code or the extent of what I built, but it seems to be working.

• A dietitian created a simple template that helps her build balanced but enjoyable meals.
• Hailey Gorski anchors her meals in satiating protein and micronutrient-packed fiber.
• She focuses on what she can add to her plate rather than what she can remove.

Hailey Gorski has a simple rule for making delicious meals that fit her nutrition goals: PPP, or produce, protein, portion.

The 28-year-old dietitian based in Los Angeles anchors her meals in protein, to help her feel full, and nutrient and fiber-packed produce, such as veggies and beans.

To portion her food, she takes a plate and fills about half with produce, about a quarter with protein, and high fibre carbs and maybe some healthy fats for the remainder, she said. PPP can be applied to any meal.

"That's kind of how I visualize my plate and then I reverse engineer my meals from that," Gorski told Business Insider.

She developed the simple template to help her clients who want to lose weight, because she noticed they would often fall into the trap of adopting an all-or-nothing mindset, which was tripping them up.

Clients thought "either I'm super healthy and I'm eating at home, or I'm dining out and eating fast food and junk food and more convenience foods, and I'm being 'unhealthy,'" Gorksi said.

"When you give people a template 'produce, protein portion,' it makes it a lot easier to find healthy options that align with your goals," she said.

Following this template helped Gorski lose 20 pounds in 2016, without cutting out her favorite foods.

"What's great about it is it helps you build the plate, but also helps you shift from the deprivation to the abundance mindset," Gorski said.

When it comes to weight loss, eating balanced, nutritious meals that don't feel restrictive is crucial to long-term success, she said.

PPP rule-approved meals Gorski eats on repeat:

High-fiber, high-protein pasta

• High fiber pasta (portion)
• Ground beef in marinara sauce (protein)
• Three different frozen vegetables added into the sauce (produce)

Low-lift wraps

• High-fiber tortilla wrap (portion)
• Turkey slices (protein)
• Guacamole and arugula (produce)

Grain bowls

• Grilled chicken (protein)
• Tomato, cucumber, red onion salad (produce)
• Wholegrain pita, hummus, olives (portion)

• My wife and I moved to New York City with hopes of building a vibrant community.
• When my son was born, our priorities shifted, and we eyed a house near my in-laws in Delaware.
• We left New York City behind and couldn't be happier.

Two years before our son was born, my partner, Liv, and I moved to New York City to immerse ourselves in the city that never sleeps. She was working full-time and pursuing a master's degree at Columbia, while I was figuring out what it meant to be human after I quit my tech job.

We dreamed of the community and opportunity that awaited us in that glorious place of concrete and glass. After the loneliness COVID brought, I fantasized that we'd meet other adults who shared enough of our values to create a tight community in New York City, one that was more than just friends.

But everything changed after our son was born.

We moved to New York City to live our dream life

My sister-in-law, her boyfriend, and a handful of friends already lived in New York City. The region's high population density came with the promise of new close relationships.

Within six weeks, we sold our house in suburban Maryland and moved into a New York City apartment, sight unseen.

Living in NYC is like gripping life's volume knob with both hands and cranking it up past the breaking point. The city offers an unmatched variety of sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and feelings to the privileged people who can afford it.

Some nights over the next year, I sat on our windowsill, admiring the twinkling cityscape teeming with life. I was making new friends, but I wasn't seeing a path to the fantastical relationships with other adults that I thought would come easily.

The question of whether or not to expand our biological family also hung heavily in my mind.

After an errand to the Financial District, I shared a transformative conversation with a tourist couple from rural Germany. We talked about their children, and I revealed my ambivalence about having my own.

The man's response was warm and adamant: Having children is the best. There's never going to be a right time. Just do it.

We hugged, took a selfie, and parted ways. Six months later, having learned countless lessons from the city and its people, Liv was pregnant with our first child.

Our priorities shifted after the birth of our son

Shortly after our son was born and I became a stay-at-home dad, our family reached a decision point. We could not afford to live in New York City and enjoy our preferred lifestyle. We needed more space and more help.

A house in my in-laws' neighborhood was put up for sale at an attractive price. Liv's desire burned for this home and the comfort of neighbor-parents, but I was unconvinced. Leaving my community and moving to Slower Lower Delaware felt like a massive downgrade.

As our son's eyes opened and he began to crawl, my priorities shifted toward my growing family. Whenever my mother-in-law trekked up to the city to help with childcare, I felt rested and loved. If we moved, her love and nurturing spirit would be just down the road.

I chose to be excited about the move, focusing on the reasons it felt good, like the familial help, lower financial pressure, and quieter calm.

We bought the house and moved after our son's first birthday.

An unexpected step toward a dream come true

I am fortunate enough to both love and like my family, including the family I inherited from Liv. With this type of love comes a web of commitment to the well-being of all members of our system. Societal norms make the depth of this commitment far more accessible to family than it is to friends.

In an alternate universe, there's a version of myself whose hyperlocal community consists of friends and family, where our children have sprawling chosen families and roam freely between homes. In this imaginary village, shops and services are walkable, and what we make transcends money. I thought we might make this happen in New York City. Maybe it can for others, but it didn't for me.

Perhaps that idealized universe is actually this one, only set a few years in the future. The open-door policy we happily share with my in-laws is a part of the dream made real.

• Dani Aravich is a 29-year-old Paralympian who grew up playing sports.
• After college, Dani was introduced to the possibility of competing in the Paralympics.
• She now competes for Team USA in the Paralympic Games in track and field and cross-country skiing.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation Dani Aravich, Paralympian and cofounder of Culxtured. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I grew up in Boise, Idaho, playing all the typical sports — soccer, basketball, softball — and eventually got recruited to a Division I school to compete in track and field.

After college, I worked for an NBA team. And while working there, I learned about the Paralympics for the very first time. It had never really been on my family's radar growing up, so it never felt like an option for me as a kid.

Learning about the Paralympics also meant being introduced to the disability community in a way I never had before. I hadn't grown up around many people with disabilities, and suddenly I was meeting all these athletes who, like me, had disabilities and were fiercely competitive in sport.

It was a little overwhelming at first, but also really exciting.

I started thinking about the Paralympic Games

I started diving into everything I could find about the Paralympics and eventually learned that I actually qualified for a classification.

That's when the dream began to form. Maybe I could make the Trials for the Tokyo 2020 Paralympic Games.

In 2019, I started running again, mostly training on my own while working full-time. I went to my first para track meet that year and met other women who were missing a hand or had arm impairments like mine. For the first time, it felt like I might truly be competing on an even playing field.

But that same day, I nearly walked away from it all.

I was running well until I fell on the track with 10 meters left in the race. I remember thinking maybe that was my sign to quit and go back to the traditional career path I had been on.

My mom — who had actually been hesitant about me stepping away from my business career in the first place — was the one who told me I had already put months of work into this goal. I owed it to myself to at least see it through and not let one fall end the dream.

So I kept going.

I decided to focus on Nordic skiing

Not long after that, I was invited to try Para cross-country skiing at a camp. I had downhill skied before, but cross-country skiing is a completely different sport.

In 2021, I competed in the T47 women's 400m at the Tokyo Paralympic Games (which were delayed a year because of COVID). Just six months later, I competed again at the Beijing 2022 Paralympic Winter Games.

After that, I made the decision to step away from track and focus fully on Nordic skiing, leading into the 2026 Paralympic Winter Games in Italy.

And here I am now.

The dream of becoming a Paralympian came much later in life for me than it does for a lot of athletes. Mostly because I didn't even know it existed growing up. I had never seen it in the media, never heard about it as a possibility.

This year, I've been in Europe since early January, first for the World Cup season, now the Paralympics.

One of the things that's made these Paralympics especially meaningful is being able to invite friends and family to come watch in person. Four years ago, that wasn't possible because of Covid restrictions.

I love seeing kids watch us race

For Nordic skiing, we're based in a tiny town in Italy, which is pretty remote from some of the other venues. But the town has completely embraced the Games. One of my favorite moments has been watching local school kids come out to watch us race.

And it really does feel like the Paralympics are growing.

More people are watching. The media is paying attention to the drama and intensity of the competition. Online engagement is growing. It finally feels like the world is starting to see these athletes the way we've always known them to be — elite.

Once people watch the Paralympics, they realize the competition is just as intense as the Olympics. And once they see that, they're hooked.

More broadly, I think society is shifting in a really positive direction when it comes to diversity and inclusion. Humanizing disability and making it something we talk about openly — rather than something hidden away — is incredibly important.

Not just for the Paralympics. But for society as a whole.

• At the weekend reading retreat I attended, our intergenerational group bonded over more than books.
• We had thoughtful discussions, did a guided meditation, and went on a hike in the woods.
• I came home inspired by the other retreat members and our shared connection.

In my 30s, I joined a book club but soon dropped out. Between juggling work and family, the last thing I needed then was another deadline, even a read-for-fun one.

Flash forward decades: I'm in my 60s now, the kids have flown the nest, and I have more downtime and love all things outdoorsy.

So when a friend suggested All Booked, a luxe reading retreat for women in New York State's Catskill Mountains, I was excited to try book clubs again, especially this one-off weekend version.

When I signed up, I imagined lengthy chats surrounding the retreat's featured trending book: "Mother Mary Come to Me," a memoir by prize-winning author Arundhati Roy. We certainly had those.

But what made the literary getaway especially meaningful were the casual connections we shared as total strangers — eight women in our 20s to late 60s — about life, love, and living with intention.

The retreat's luxe cabin was the perfect place for book chats and a reset

Tucked among 12 wooded acres in Windham, New York, the weekend retreat's luxury log cabin was straight out of Airbnb central casting, complete with pine exposed beams, stone floors, and a dramatic great room with soaring vaulted ceilings and cozy reading nooks.

The first night, we met our host, Suzanne, a former New York City journalist who headed to the Catskills a few years ago and never left.

We introduced ourselves with a favorite book recommendation over an Indian-inspired dinner of delicata-squash salad and curry-marinated chicken, a nod to featured author Roy, who calls New Delhi home.

After changing into our PJs, we gathered on yoga mats in the cabin's loft for a guided meditation before padding off to our log beds.

Introductions continued the next morning over a breakfast of blueberry scones and homemade granola.

Among us were two 20-something bookstagrammers, each with her own daunting stack of extracurricular romantasy novels to speed-read.

Their tripods and ring lights triggered the multitasking question that seemed to trail many of us these days wherever we went: Should we turn an experience into shareable content or power down and just enjoy it, conceivably leaving likes, followers, and revenue (from somewhere) on the table?

Aside from planning to snap a few photos, I am Team Commune with Nature.

Our multigenerational group bonded over books, nature, and a lively debate

After a morning of quiet reading time, our group met at the Windham Path for an afternoon of forest bathing, which turned out to be a slow-motion hike led by Beth, our certified forest therapy guide.

Beth, who left a corporate job to embrace her calling as a forest therapist, invited us to wander off and "connect with a tree you are drawn to."

After appreciating the bark, treetops, and stillness, we reunited with a tea ceremony. Beth poured tiny cups of tea steeped from pine needles from an insulated kettle.

Before sipping the sour reddish liquid, we were instructed to pour some on the ground to give back and thank the forest for its sustenance.

During Saturday night's dinner, Suzanne moderated our discussion of "Mother Mary Comes to Me," about Roy's complicated relationship with her mother, Mary, which eventually led to this question for the group: Is it OK to go no-contact with your parents if they upset you?

The 20-somethings were Team No-Contact, while those of us in midlife and beyond disagreed because bad-parenting moments come with the territory, and well, family is family.

Our POV tracked with the memoir's theme: Roy remained stubbornly devoted to her mom despite their lifelong turbulent relationship.

The connection and community I found that weekend reminded me that life is full of possibilities

The next day, I came home intoxicated with pine-scented fresh air and nurtured by the experience.

Confession: In this chapter as an empty nester, I often feel nestless. It's almost like I'm back in my 20s, asking fundamental questions again, such as: What should I do now? Where should I live now that I don't have to be tied to a good school system?

However, spending the weekend with retreat members, including Suzanne and forest-bathing Beth, who've made bold midlife moves, reminded me that life is an open book, filled with exciting possibilities.

Meanwhile, I've been really noticing the trees during my daily walks, brushing up on my vlogging skills (inspired by the bookstagrammers' industriousness), and seeking out even more ways to meet new friends of all ages.

• Winston Hall works out seven days a week and spends up to five hours a day outside on his bike.
• The 77-year-old has been super-fit since he was drafted into the US Army during the Vietnam War.
• He wants other seniors to follow his lead by gradually increasing their movement.

This interview is based on a conversation with Rena Clare, 67, a retired professional photographer from Omaha, Nebraska. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I wasn't particularly sporty in high school. Golf was just about it. The whole idea of fitness or having a healthy lifestyle wasn't much of a concept.

Then, in 1969, I was drafted into the US Army, assigned to the First Cavalry Division, and completed basic training before being deployed to Vietnam.

I enjoyed running

In basic training, you had to run three miles before breakfast. Then, during the day, you were always on your feet.

I found that I really enjoyed running and looked forward to doing it. It made me feel more energetic. But I hadn't really connected the dots when it came to food. I ate a standard American diet, including red meat and potatoes.

After three years in the military, I returned to my college studies before becoming a full-time professional photographer. My workplace was nine miles from home, and I'd usually cycle there. I found it fun.

Meanwhile, my father was having severe health issues, and I didn't want to go through the same thing. I started thinking more about the role of diet and stopped having meat altogether.

Still, midway through my career in the late 80s, I realized I was getting out of shape. My job took me around the world, and I stayed in hotels where it was hard to choose what to eat.

I became more focused through exercise

I knew I felt better and more focused after exercising, so I'd use the hotel gym. If it didn't have one and I couldn't get outside, I'd run around the parking garage.

It could be 8 p.m. or later, and the security guards would stop me and ask what I was doing.

Movement became a regular part of my life. I ran or biked as much as I could to expend any pent-up energy. After a while, I started doing more endurance cycling and running in biathlons.

One of the best things I've done is go on bikepacking trips. They're exhilarating, like an adventure. I have a small, lightweight tent which I keep in a pannier. It compacts nicely until you set up camp for the night.

I have a household gym

Last summer, I went to Colorado and would ride from the campground every day to visit new places. I also bicycle a lot in my home state of Nebraska, as well as Minnesota, Iowa, and Kansas.

Back home, I have a gym on the lower level of my house, where I work out seven days a week. Also, when the weather is good, I can spend up to five hours outside on my bike, particularly along gravel trails on disused railway tracks.

I weight train three days a week before moving to the treadmill or stationary bike. On the other four days, I do isometric-type exercises and core work.

I adopted a whole-food, plant-based diet — part vegetarian, part vegan — and enjoy cooking for my wife, Sharon, and me. Typically, I'll have two meals a day.

Breakfast is usually between 10 and 11 a.m., consisting of oatmeal with chia and hemp seeds, soy milk, and fresh fruit.

Society can ignore people my age

I don't snack in the afternoon. Then, around 5:30 p.m., I'll either prepare a salad with beans for protein or a dish like rice and beans. I like to finish eating at least three hours before going to bed.

Recently, I was thrilled to learn that Senior Planet, an AARP initiative, appointed me as one of its 2026 Sponsored Athletes, working to redefine what it means to stay active in later life.

Society has somehow bought into the idea that, once we reach retirement, we're irrelevant, disappear, and no longer contribute.

And many people my age let themselves go, thinking it's the beginning of a decline.

Firstly, I don't believe that's true, and it's a great opportunity to make the most of the time you have on your hands. Secondly, I want to inspire and motivate older people to get out and about and find adventures.

You don't have to start big. It's good to increase your movement gradually. Please believe me when I say it's never too late to get healthy — and feel more alive — through diet and exercise.