When I woke up on Saturday morning, I got the bright idea to make cinnamon rolls. Something about them just sounded so good to me.

I wasn't a baker, and I knew that for sure. I was confident enough in myself to understand that being able to bake didn't make me any more or less of a woman. That was why I kept the premade dough in the fridge at all times.

Mixing butter, cinnamon, and brown sugar in a bowl, I let my mind wander. I wanted to get married in November, I ...