I have never been a breakfast person. Growing up, my mom would have to force me to eat in the mornings, and I would only eat buttered sourdough toast, sugared strawberries and bacon if cooked the way I like. Muffins or a few breakfast items disguised as dessert were fine, but I would not touch eggs and didn’t even like pancakes.

Fast-forward many years and 2016 has elevated breakfast to another level in the form of the trendy and unavoidable brunch. At the start of this summer, I loathed brunch: I saw it as just a bunch of weird egg dishes that would leave me hungry two hours before dinner. That was before I lived in Los Angeles, arguably the brunch capital of the world, for eight weeks. While brunch has yet to eclipse dessert as my favorite meal of the day, the six brunches I had during my time in California have led me to appreciate – and dare I say like – brunch.

1. Brunch One: The Med at The Valencia Hotel in San Diego, CA

After visiting my uncle in San Diego, my mom and I stayed overnight at beachside hotel The Pink Lady of La Jolla. Before driving to L.A., we woke up early to stroll on the beach and then ate a late breakfast (what some might call brunch) on the hotel's terrace.

Since I was hungry following the walk, I played along with the brunch game and ordered Waffles & Strawberries with a side of chicken apple sausage and a glass of OJ. Maybe it was the long wait for the food or the gorgeous ocean view, but as I tasted my fluffy waffles, I thought -- probably for the first time in my 19 years of living -- that I would have chosen this meal over lunch.

Still, this was a private musing that I convinced myself was biased by hunger and nice scenery.

2. Brunch Two: Circa 55 at The Beverly Hilton

Once in L.A., my mom and I stayed at The Beverly Hilton until my lease began. Still jet-lagged, we decided to sleep in and eat brunch instead of the usual three meals a day. Normally I would have protested, but I told myself it was my longing for sleep -- not a craving for this weird hybrid meal of "brunch" -- that allowed me to accept this plan. Little did I know that I was destined to meet my brunch soulmate that very morning: french toast.

As I bit into my brioche french toast and apricot compote, again accompanied by chicken apple sausage, I realized all the soggy french toasts of slumber parties past had wrongly dissuaded me from the best that brunch had to offer. Gobsmacked, I turned to my mom and uttered the unthinkable: "this is good brunch." I hastily qualified my words with remarks about lunch's superiority and gripes about brunch's overuse of eggs, but my praise could not be unsaid.

3. Brunch Three: The Rooftop Grill at Montage Beverly Hills

Brunch Three almost ruined me for brunch. Just like on rotten apple can ruin the barrel, one overrated brunch nearly derailed my progress. My best friend from high school came to visit me and wanted to see Rodeo Drive, so my parents let me take him to a ritzy hotel within walking distance of the shops. Since the Montage was so expensive, we decided to make two meals into one -- brunch, if you must call it that. What started as a pleasant enough wait with a view from the rooftop ended with our food taking over an hour and the restaurant charging over $20 for water.

I almost quit brunch for good that morning, and the service and price of The Rooftop Grill certainly reminded me why I found brunch over-hyped in the first place, but my meyer lemon rhubarb pancakes coupled with my reliable chicken apple sausage -- while not as tasty or reasonably priced as my beloved Beverly Hilton french toast -- were pleasing enough to not put me off brunch forever.

4. Brunch Four: Go Get 'Em Tiger in Larchmont Village

When my twin sister Annika came to town, she humored my dietary quirks and agreed that we would do a fancy lunch instead of brunch. We faced a dilemma, however, when my sleep-deprived twin craved coffee and hipster environs. I drove her to Go Get 'Em Tiger in the Larchmont Village neighborhood of Hollywood for what I planned on being just a coffee stop, but my stomach growling and the 11 a.m. hour signaled that I would be brunching it yet again.

As I slowly sipped my too-small-to-cost-six dollars iced latte and Annika and I split a dutch baby (this is a type of pancake, not an actual Dutch child), I was surprised at how much I savored the doughy, berry-filled concoction. Our fantastic lunch at The Roof Garden of The Peninsula Hotel, however, convinced me that my momentary enjoyment of brunch was simply caused by my low blood sugar and caffeine deficiency.

5. Brunch Five: The Polo Lounge at The Beverly Hills Hotel

A few weeks into my time in L.A., my high school roommate Grace came to visit, and since Grace and I share a love of Old Hollywood and fancy decor, we decided to splurge on brunch at The Polo Lounge at The Beverly Hills Hotel. I complied only because lunch would have made Grace late for her flight home.

When I saw the menu, it seemed as if the chef was determined to renew my hope in brunch: I ordered the french toast with a nectarine, cherry, and peach compote that came within spitting distance of topping my first french toast love from so many weeks ago. Before I realized the gravity of my actions, I turned to Grace and said, "I'm glad we decided to get brunch."

While I would still not count myself among L.A.'s brunch die-hards, I had finally accepted that -- sometimes -- brunch was a good idea.

6. Brunch Six: The Griddle Cafe on Sunset Blvd.

During the last couple weeks of my time in SoCal, some friends from work and I decided to hike to the Hollywood sign. We woke up ungodly early to start our hike, so brunch was the only logical meal choice given our need for immediate calorie intake (it's a long hike). Since we were driving back down Sunset, brunch professional Erin suggested we stop by The Griddle Cafe in West Hollywood since its namesake indicated that it would offer many egg-free options.

When we arrived at our table, our waiter gave us a breakfast and a lunch menu. I cowardly chose lunch and opted to split the scrumptious chocolate chip coconut pancakes with my friends for dessert. While my lunch was cheesy and delightful, seeing mile-high stacks of strawberry waffles and french toast bigger than my hiking bag made me realize that I missed brunch. No qualifications, no excuses -- I wanted brunch. There was no taking back this epiphany as I Instagrammed my hiking photo with the hashtag #diditforthebrunch.

Eggs will always be a no-go for me and I still occasionally struggle with fancy and over-priced brunch spots, but my time brunching across SoCal opened my eyes to the variety of delicious brunch options just waiting to be devoured. While my UCLA classes and internship have taught me many more important things, my choosing to eat brunch by myself this morning at the Malibu Farm Pier Cafe was probably my biggest personal change of the summer.

Either that or I learned that the brunch food I like is really just dessert masquerading as breakfast...