She’s well read, well watched, active, well-rested, productive, a social butterfly, spiritually grounded, emotionally intelligent, financially secure, spontaneous and impossibly unphased.

She has it all.

She is it all.

I yearn to become her.

She’s an actress, a chef, a model, a writer, a scientist, an athlete, a lawyer, an engineer, a radio host, a comedian.

If she can be it all, why can’t I?

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The female urge to be everything is a concept that I think about a lot. And that’s because the urge hums quietly in the background as I attempt to go about my daily life.

I am often consumed by the desire to pursue everything all at once — a desire that leaves me reaching for everything but holding on to nothing.

I am constantly suspended between who I am and who I could be.

I think I know where she comes from. At least, I have a faint idea of something that plays a role in this desire that I know myself and millions of other girls out there experience.

The internet.

Every day we are exposed to hundreds, if not thousands, if not tens of thousands, if not millions of possible lives that we could live.

Possibility is endless, and that’s the problem.

The human brain was not designed to process the vast amount of information that it does. We were not designed to be exposed to that level of possibility. To that number of ‘what ifs’.

So decisions feel impossible — like mountains without summit.

It’s as if the different futures that I could have are constantly battling with each other, and I’m caught in the middle determining which one to take.

We are always being seduced with the ‘next best thing’ — self development culture has made this almost inescapable — convincing us that we are just fingertips away from unlocking a better version of ourselves.

So we are left waiting. Getting through what we are currently pursuing to reach the next level. Getting through our current relationship in hopes it will make us more mature for our next. Getting through our current job in hopes it will lead us to the dream one. Getting through Monday to make it to Friday.

Cliche? Yes.

The most exposing and true thing I’ve written about myself and my experience? Also yes.

Girls who have the desire to be everything are constantly in a state of movement. They can never rest, never sit still.

Is this a bad thing? Not always. But if untamed then the beauty of the present moment can slip right through our fingers. And it will be too late before we’ve even realised it.

The desire to grow and to improve isn’t the issue. The issue is that if we live our lives in a waiting room then we’ll never live at all.

I see you. You plan like your life depends on it, yet you rarely arrive at your destination (at least your perception of what ‘the destination’ is). You constantly feel behind — like you’ve got catching up to do, but you never stop. Don’t you see how far ahead you are!

You are missing out on life because you’re so preoccupied on what you could be doing to make your life ‘better’.

But what if you stopped and took a breath? What if you committed to your commitments? And by this I don’t mean continuing to plough yourself into the ground in the name of ‘commitment’. I mean, what if you chose one path and stayed on it for a while? What if you moved with the nature of the path?

Sign up for cookery school, get the law degree, go to drama school, start writing that novel that’s bursting at the seams from inside of you. Commit to it. And only it. Put the damn phone down. Forget what everyone else is doing. That’s their path — you are on yours. Now stick to it.

So what if it doesn’t work out? You can always pivot. But give it the time to not work out first without constantly changing direction.

We are not meant to be everywhere and do everything all at once.

You never hear winter apologise for not being summer, and you never hear Sabrina Carpenter apologise for not being Steven Speilberg — so don’t apologise for the season of life or the person of life that you’re in. You have one job: to live in it. To live in them.

I know how exhausted you are. All you want is to live life to the fullest. But that will never happen if you are constantly trying to pursue every possible version of yourself. It’s hard to see it clearly in the present moment, but one day you’ll look over your shoulder and see how each and every version of yourself was just as important as the other.

Remember to give today’s version of you the grace she deserves. One day you’ll look back and realise how wonderful she was. You’ll wish she could have slowed down and lived in the moment a little more. Because the moments she lived were utterly beautiful. And so was she.

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I’d love to know how the other girlies out there manage the possibility of all the women you could be, so please also…

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Olivia

xx

And at the ripe age of 20, I think I’m running out of time.

As a result, I’ve taken to this very unhealthy habit of filling my days with ‘shoulds’. In fact this isn’t a recent habit I’ve taken to. I’ve been doing this my whole life.

I should work hard in school.

I should be the best at my sport.

I should eat healthy.

I should be sociable and make people like me.

These are ‘shoulds’ I adopted from a young age, but more recently it’s become:

I should know what I want to do with my life.

I should stick to the plan.

I should have a clear sense of direction.

My life should have purpose.

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As you can tell, as I’ve gotten older, my ‘shoulds’ have become a lot more existential. You see, when I was younger, I could channel all of my ‘shoulds’ into the structure of my life. It’s easy to do when you’re a kid. You go to school, you do your sports, you hang out with ‘friends’. You’ve got this life built around you and you ‘know’ what’s expected of you. At least, what you expect from yourself.

But when that structure leaves — you graduate high school, college, you move out of home. You can be left with this huge black hole.

A black hole that — if you aren’t careful — can become something that’s filled with endless ‘shoulds’.

The structure from your life is gone. You have nobody else telling you what you ‘should’ do — maybe it was your teacher, your coach, your parents, your friends.

Well guess what.

Now it’s you.

And as mentioned, if you aren’t careful, you can be left with a heavy weight of existentialism.

However, I’ve been thinking a lot recently (what’s new?), and I’ve been thinking about ways to eliminate some of these ‘shoulds’ from my life. Because honestly, they aren’t productive, nor are they helpful, and 9 times out of 10 they lead to extreme burnout.

What you ‘think life is about’ isn’t actually what life is about at all.

You think life is about:

• Working / making money

• Being the person you think your friends want you to be

• Knowing your ‘5 year plan’

• Having your shit together

And whilst all of the above are somewhat important aspects of life — things that can act as a guide rail into turning that Pinterest board into reality. We tend to get so caught up on the small things — the daily habits, that we forget that life is about taking every day as it comes, but more importantly, finding joy in every day.

And if your daily routine is centered around work, being who you think others want you to be, thinking about what you’re going to be doing 5 years from now and ‘having your shit together’. Well, let me just say that that often results in feeling very very sad.

So. Here’s some things you can do to feel less very very sad, and more very very happy. Okay, I’m not promising you’re not going to feel very very happy all the time, because that’s unrealistic, but it might just help.

1. Go play!

This is number one, not because it’s the most important one, but because I think it should be at the forefront of everything we do. We only have one shot at this thing called life, and what on earth is the point if we can’t have fun?!

I don’t always think like this, but I sometimes imagine myself getting hit by a bus tomorrow. How would I live today if I knew that was going to happen? Okay, maybe it’s unrealistic to jet off to Disneyland anytime that thought comes into your head. But what small changes can you make to your day to incorporate a bit more fun?

• A board game after dinner?

• Building a den in your room and reading a book/ watching a movie?

• Chalking your driveway/ outside pavement (I always used to do this as a kid)

• Have a running race with your siblings?!

For me, play is about embracing my inner child, but for you, it might be completely different.

Just don’t forget that it’s okay necessary to have fun!

2. The Journey

We often think that we’ll feel happy once we reach that one goal. Once we finish our high school exams, once we get the degree, once we win the championship, once we lose the weight, once we get the job.

Truth is, these things only bring fleeting moments of happiness. It never lasts.

And that’s why it’s so important to enjoy the journey. In fact, if you aren’t enjoying the journey, the cost of ‘winning’ is far too great.

For example, maybe your goal is to lose a few pounds. But if your journey to losing the weight results in you being freezing cold all the time, miserable because you’re not having your daily ice cream (erm… joy!), and constantly grumpy because you’re constantly hangry… I mean, I’ll let you do the maths, the cost of ‘winning’ is far too great.

You have to enjoy your process. You have to enjoy your everyday routine. Your everyday life!

That doesn’t mean to say that if you’re working towards a big goal then every minute of your day will be filled with complete joy. If you’re training for a sub three hour marathon you have to accept that 1 hour of that day might be filled with a grueling training session.

But you have to dig a little deeper and ask yourself the question…

Do you love the grind?

I mean truly. Not like ‘oh yeah I love the grind David Goggins blah blah blah’.

Do you really love it?

If yes — then you’re sweet. Crack on.

If no — then you might want to reevaluate your end destination.

3. Spontaneity

In childhood, I rarely embraced spontaneity. Was this because since the age of 14 I swam 18 hours a week and put immense amounts of pressure on myself to be both the best student and the best athlete I could possibly be and anything ‘not scheduled’ was A a waste of time or B impacting my ability to be the best student and the best athlete I could possibly be?

Yes. Perhaps it was because of that.

It therefore makes sense why in adulthood I’ve struggled to embrace anything that’s off my schedule.

But recently, I’ve been thinking about the above two points — joy and whether I’m truly enjoying the journey, and at times I have to admit that I’ve entered cycles where neither have been present, and I think that’s largely due to the fact that I’m not spontaneous enough.

This is me giving me and you permission to FUCK THE SCHEDULE from time to time.

Example:

• Drive to the supermarket after dinner and buy a big phat sweet treat

• Go to the beach for the day (I live in a land locked area of the UK so this would be very spontaneous of me. I’m very jealous if you have a beach on your doorstep. I think that would increase my happiness levels at least 50%)

• Take yourself out on a date (one of my goals this year is to dress up and take myself out for dinner. I’ll update at the end of the year as to whether this happens lol)

• Buy that thing you’ve been ‘saving up for now’ (remember — the bus could hit you tomorrow)

Let me repeat. It is important to FUCK THE SCHEDULE or what you ‘think’ is the right thing to do from time to time.

4. Embrace all the feelings

Okay, last one.

As a child, I very much struggled to embrace what I was feeling. I was often left wondering why I felt strange, weird or ‘high maintenance’.

I was constantly left with the impression that I ‘should’ feel differently. That I ‘should’ be able to cope. That I ‘should’ be able to handle the pressure.

And I guess I could ‘cope’ and ‘handle the pressure’… until I couldn’t.

My life was ‘effective’ for me because anytime I felt upset, sad, lonely, angry, frustrated [insert relevant emotion], I…well… I simply didn’t have to actually feel upset, sad, lonely, angry, frustrated [any other relevant emotion…] because my schedule was so jam packed and I was ‘so clear’ on my goals and what I wanted that dwelling on stuff wasn’t really a thing (and a ‘waste of time’ in my mind).

Well, turns out having a jam packed schedule to bandage your feelings is an insufficient way of coping and leads to the ripping off of the bandage being excruciatingly painful.

I’m not a therapist, but I feel I have some life experience in learning how to embrace and release all the feelings, so here are my tips:

• Scream into a pillow

• Journal your thoughts (I sometimes like to take myself on a 10-15 minute walk and talk out loud into voice memos (with my headphones) sometimes this is more effective/ quicker than writing things down)

• Go on a run/ do intense exercise until you feel better (I can highly recommend playing The Hunger Games soundtrack (specifically The Ballard of Songbirds and Snakes) and running bare foot through a grass field)

• Submerge yourself in a body of cold water — honestly, works a treat

The last one is very important:

• Ignore anyone and everyone who tells you your feelings are ‘too much’, that you’re ‘too dramatic’, ‘too sensitive’, ‘too anything’. YOU ARE NOT. STAY IN YOUR LANE. RAZOR SHARP FOCUS ON YOU.

Remember, this isn’t me telling you what you ‘should’ do, because that would completely defeat the point of this essay.

This is me simply reminding you that you do have free will in this life, and half the things you think are ‘making you more productive’, ‘happier’, ‘a better person’ might just be having the opposite effect.

Turns those ‘shoulds’ into ‘coulds’ and have fun in the process.

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Let me know if any of the above works for you, and if you have any tips that might be helpful in living a freer life (sometimes, I need all the help I can get lol).

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Olivia

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What’s worse…

A bone injury.

“I’ll never run again”

“The one thing that brought me happiness is obsolete”

“I’m such an idiot/fool/dumb-dumb [insert adjective to describe yourself in a very mean way where appropriate]”

All are thoughts that will swirl around your brain.

All are thoughts that swirled around my brain when I got told I had a grade 4a stress fracture in my shin back in November 2025.

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6 months; several mental breakdowns over aggressive women at the pool shouting at me for aquajogging; multiple identity crises; and a substack publication later — here I am, willing to share with you 5 things I learnt from being in a boot and on crutches for 5 whole months (surprisingly, I have had worse 5 month periods, but those are stories for another time…).

1. Embrace your new way of life

Okay, hear me out. I know what you’re thinking:

“how could I possibly embrace hobbling around the house, feeling my heart sink every time someone accidently taps my boot at the dinner table with their foot — thinking it’s going to impact the healing (spoiler alert: it doesn’t/didn’t), practically becoming a mermaid/ merman for 5 months and getting some very strange looks at the pool as you’re finishing off the last 2 minutes of a 30 minute tempo aquajog, which coincides with your face being as red as a tomato, and an expression that mildly resembles “I need/ I’m doing a poo”.

Yes, all of the above are valid thoughts to have. And yes, it’s pretty crappy. In fact, it’s very crappy. And it’s hard. And it’s going to feel like things are never going to get better. And you’re going to have days where you can’t think of anything worse than going to the pool. And like it’s all your fault that you are in the situation you are in.

Well I’m here to tell you that it is not your fault — but it is now your responsibility.

It’s your responsibility to make the most out of the situation you’re in.

Let me give you a few examples. My injury meant the only two forms of cross training I could do were aquajogging and swimming (consider yourself very lucky if you can weight bear in some way/ shape or form!). At times, the pool would get very busy. So instead of thinking “I hate my life. I hate these annoying kids for getting in my way. I hate aquajogging”, I would imagine myself in a cross country race. Toeing the startline, mud, bumps, hills, getting spiked, fighting for your spot… It made the busyness slightly less anxiety provoking, and it gave my mind something to focus on.

Now, you’re going to hate me for this one (and I should probably have taken my own advice, but hindsight is so wonderful, isn’t it?)... but you need to embrace the rest.

I know what you’re like. You hate not having your independence, you hate sitting still, you hate resting. But if you want to speed this recovery process along, you’re going to have to succumb to it.

Find a new series to binge watch. Find 5 series to binge watch. Listen to the podcasts you’d usually listen to while out running/ walking on the couch. Let your flatmat/ sibling/ parent clear your dinner plate for you.

Reduce movement and movement will return to you much quicker!

2. Manage your stress — don’t let your stress manage you

Wow. I got a bit carried away there with that one. But it’s true, you gotta embrace the grind, the new ways of finding small moments of joy — the adaptation.

That’s far more tenacious and will make you a much stronger athlete than having an easy, injury free ride the whole time.

But. You’re an athlete. I know what you’re like. You’re going to be freaking stressing out. You’re going to be stressing over how much sleep you’re getting, all the ways you can optimise recovery, stressing out over how you’re going to lose so much fitness, and how you’ll never gain it back. And how the others around you just don’t understand how significant all of this is, so you’ll probably take out some of your frustration/ stress on them too — creating relational stress.

Having an injury is just a big fat stress shitshow.

But it doesn’t have to be.

You can manage your stress.

You are in control. It might not feel this way. But it is true. You always have a choice.

Always.

I was listening to a podcast a few weeks back by two pretty renowned coaches in the running world — Megan and David Roche (recommendation 1: SWAP Podcast!) and they talk about all sorts on their podcast (running, science, mental health, comedy, sex…), but the specific episode I was listening to was about ‘why it’s okay if you can’t sleep’.

Turns out, the human body can function with a very limited amount of sleep, and in fact it’s better to sleep less and be less stressed than it is to sleep more and be more stressed. So, take a breath, and just relax. It’s all going to be okay. You’re going to get through this. The most important thing you can do is stay in control and not let your reactions get the better of you.

A few stress management tips:

• Splash your face with cold water if you ever feel yourself getting stressed — it’s great for regulating

• Distract yourself — a movie, Youtube video, Tiktok — whatever works at this point. Just get out of your own head

• Get outside (even if it means being sat on your front porch)

• Eat a snack (this is always a good option)

You deserve to have a brain that doesn’t interpret every little thing as a threat.

But unfortunately, human evolution means that when we interpret a threat we respond in the same way that we would if we were cavemen/women responding to a lion. Fight or flight.

Well turns out fight or flight isn’t really necessary 99% of the time in the modern world.

So your stress is valid, but it is also unnecessary, and it is up to you to get a hold over it.

3. Comparison is the thief of joy

Great. I went on another tangent. But I felt the first two were pretty important, and required a little explanation. The next three should be more self explanatory…

Do not compare yourselves to others!

When I was in the depths of my stress fracture, I remember a number of ‘influencers’ also being diagnosed with stress fractures. The difference? I was in rainy England muscling it out in the pool and not really being able to leave the house because I couldn’t drive; and they were out in Australia doing 60K bike rides, grabbing ‘coff’ at the beach afterwards with all their friends.

But we all know social media never paints a full picture, so where you can, try to switch off from it. Think of yourself as having two different brains — one brain that opens social media and gets inspired and motivated, and then one brain that opens social media and gets depressed and jealous. You have to know in yourself what mindset you are in before you go about navigating these apps. Because at times they can be very unhelpful dangerous.

I found leaning into creators who have shared their struggles with injury/ who are currently injured and being open and honest about it to be far more helpful. Recommendation 2: Allie Ostrander’s Youtube videos are great for this (scroll back to the ones where she was injured) because they’re super real, authentic and funny!

4. Eat a lot of food

This is self explanatory. I won’t lecture you on the fact that “even though you’re resting you need to eat a lot of food to help your injury heal blah blah blah” because you already know it. In fact, I won’t even speak any further on the matter, because it’s something I have struggled with and sometimes still do, I’ll just give you some recommendations of my favourite creators who show the importance of fuelling:

Amalia Dorion (Youtube, Instagram)

https://www.youtube.com/@amaliadorionruns/featured

https://www.instagram.com/amxlixa/

Lauren Charltonn (I love her Instagram page!) https://www.instagram.com/lauren.charltonn/

And remember,

take carbs as seriously as this little one does…

if you keep skimping on them she’s gonna beat your 5K PR before you can!

5. Recommendations

Now for some more general recommendations. This includes a mixture of podcasts, blogs I’ve found helpful, movies/ TV series I’ve watched to pass the time and more!

Podcasts:

• The SWAP podcast (Megan and David Roche)

• The Running Effect podcast

• Can’t Hurt Me (David Goggins) - it’s an audiobook/ podcast — desperate times call for desperate measures!

Blogs:

Colleen is great on ALL THINGS running!

Audiobooks:

• The Tenant (Freida McFadden)

• Ward D (Freida McFadden)

Both very crappy. Both very good.

TV Shows:

• Something Very Bad is Going to Happen (Netflix)

• The Crash (Netflix)

• Should I Marry A Murderer? (Netflix)

Films:

• Life of Chuck

• Vicky Cristina Barcelona (if you fancy a 2 hour vacation to spain)

• Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

• Mrs Doubtfire

• Palm Springs

General helpful creators on socials who have opened up about injury:

• Colleen Quigley (https://www.instagram.com/steeple_squigs/)

• Allie Ostrander (https://www.instagram.com/allie_ostrander/)

• Lucy Davis (https://www.instagram.com/lucydavis/)

• Philly Bowden (https://www.instagram.com/philybowden/)

(Please send me your recommendations too!)

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Remember,

you will get through this and it will make you a stronger, better, faster and happier athlete.

You’ll be back out on the marathon (or whatever distance you choose to run because it absolutely does not have to be a marathon) course in no time.

Look after yourself and don’t forget to

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for more!

Lots of love (and get well soon hugs)

Olivia

Cleansing.

Purifying.

Ridding yourself of what’s been to make space for what’s to be.

What’s just upon the horizon.

Summer.

Winter was long and gruelling. A test of endurance. But here you are. Springing into summer having made it through.

You persevered, and you will be rewarded.

The cold dark nights tested your patience, your tenacity — your spirit.

You tried to relish in warm blankets and hot cocoa, wrapped up on the sofa watching a movie.

But that wasn’t enough for you, it never has been (it never will be).

But still, you persevered, and you will be rewarded.

Spring was fine.

Fresh.

Lambs sprung in fields.

You watched them, longed to spring as they did.

You felt it coming over you, but not quite.

Spring was the start of something new.

But like all things at the start, you can’t quite see the end in sight.

But still, you never quit. You steadily kept your chin up, your head down.

The breezy sunny days helped you through, but still remained that chill in the air.

That chill that reminded you:

You preserved, and you will be rewarded.

Now is your time.

Spring into summer.

Be in summer.

The hard work is done. Your composure made sure of that.

Head down, chin up. Seven months straight.

You jumped off, you cleansed, and now it’s time to take that first breath of air.

You’ve risen to the surface.

You’ve made it.

Winter was a test of endurance.

Spring a test of patience.

It is time to reap the rewards in summer.

Dear reader,

Today it’s going to be 24 degrees in the UK!

And it’s got me in a very reflective mood. I’ve been reflecting on winter and spring, and what those months meant for me this year.

Obviously, we can’t live our lives waiting for summer, but I believe different seasons present themselves in different ways at different times in our lives.

For me, those months were about tenacity. Simply getting through. And that’s okay!

But now, it’s time to reap the rewards of an endurance testing winter and spring, and to relish in summer.

I hope you can too!

Olivia

Breathe it in. Inhhhhh

Breathe it out. Ahhhhh

It relaxes you?

It’s stabilises you?

It’s just always … there?

Predictable.

But what happens when it becomes a crutch? When it consumes every minute of your waking hours, leaving strictly no room for unpredictability (a concept that you think is ‘good’), but then naturally, also leaving no room for spontaneity — which inevitably leaves no room for…

LIFE!

I must confess.

For months, I’ve been a slave to my routine.

Eating a variation of the same three meals everyday. Not leaving the house when I know I needed a change of environment. Making cancelling plans because it’s ‘too much effort’ and will ‘throw my day off’.

Ultimately, I have been avoiding any and all new experiences in fear that it will leave me emotionally dysregulated, out of control, and—and not knowing what is going to happen next… Duh. Duh. Duuuuuuh (extreme gasp at the horror).

Recently, it’s become a matter of staying stuck, despite being self-aware enough to know that I was indeed stuck.

In the past, the pendulum has swung either too far left (routine obsoletion), or too far right (routine extremity).

But this time, I’ve decided to catch it. To let it settle. To allow it to balance right in the centre — where it belongs.

And in honour of my recent catching of the swinging (sing the next two words in Miley Cyrus) wrecking baaaaall that sometimes likes to disguise itself as ‘my routine’, I thought I’d share some things I’ve recently tried to change things up.

It’s really nothing fancy, and it’s probably nothing you don’t already know, but sometimes we just need those little reminders that

Because we all know that life is often lived in those raw and beautiful moments of spontaneity — outside the routine.

Disclaimer: I still rely on (and love) my routine, I’m just one of those people that always has and always will. But changing things up every now and again is important crucial.

1. I asked my dad to send me his most recent Spotify Playlist

Music. This is a big one for me. Once I get hooked on certain songs, I’m hoooked. To the point where I overplay a song to the extremity that it quite literally becomes an earworm that feeds on my skull (not good!).

So, ask a family member/ friend to send you their Spotify playlist.

Shuffle that play!

2. Not just saving ‘relaxation time’ for the evening

Me? I take my evening relaxation time very seriously. Probably because I feel the need to be productive right up until I’ve finished my evening meal, so if I don’t know I have dedicated time in the evening to ‘relax’ in my usual way (usually in the form of a film/ TV series/ book/ Youtube video), I FREAK OUT.

But, relaxation pockets aren’t just earned when you’ve exhausted yourself from ‘trying to be productive all day’. We can find these little pockets throughout the day.

No.

We must find these little pockets throughout the day.

Examples of how to incorporate relaxation time throughout the day:

• Catch up on your favourite series on your morning commute (not while driving though pls)

• Take a 10 minute lunchtime walk with no distractions. Just you and the brain — call it a lunchtime ‘business meeting’ with your brain if you must.

• Watch an afternoon film (god I’m quivering at the thought of this. What do you mean I can sit on the couch at 1pm for 2 hours straight on a Saturday afternoon?)

Long story short, you deserve to be able to relax at any given hour of the day. Humans are not clocks, nor are they machines that simply ‘turn off’ at nighttime.

Think of it as like buttering a piece of toast. You don’t only save the butter for the top quarter of the piece of toast, eating the rest ‘dry’. That would be weird/ non-sensical psychotic.

You gotta spread the rest!

3. Have a mini dinner party

As I said, I take evening relaxation time very seriously.

So, inviting a friend over for dinner would inevitably interfere with this.

Did I start anxiously yawning by the time it hit 9 o’clock and we hadn’t even finished dinner yet? Yes.

Did it take me a bit longer to get to sleep because my mind hadn’t had ‘time to decompress’? Yes.

Was the company and different experience worth every second of it? Yes.

Bonus recipe. Guess what? It’s your lucky day (scroll to the end for a new recipe idea)

4. Eat one different meal this week

I don’t only ‘like’ comfort, I crave it. Specifically in the form of food.

Yes, I have very specific set of comfort foods which make me feel ‘safe’ — in a space of ‘familiarity’. Even my taste-buds are highly strung when it comes to needing to know what they’re getting next.

So, what did I do this week? I tried different foods.

I went to the store and bought a tonne of different snacks (which took approximately 95 minutes by the time I was done deciding what I’d be okay with, and cost just short of a 50 British Pounds daylight robbery!

Let’s just say my cupboard and I are now feeling a little overhwhelmed.

I also, spent a significant amount of time on Instagram (intentional consumption is something I try to practice when navigating such apps…) researching new recipes and ideas of yummy snacks to make.

Okay, I’ll admit, I’ve only cooked one different meal (scroll to end), and have only tried a handful of new snacks. But right, left baby steps. Am I right?

It’s giving you’re in kindergarten and Miss Jeffery has just praised you for finishing your afternoon snack (I really do exhaust myself sometimes).

5. Order some new clothes

I am definitely an ‘outfit repeater’ (I mean, at least I’m not an ‘outfit rememberer’ which is definitely even worse).

So when it comes to clothing, I’m guilty of only using the top ⅛ of my draws — the clothes I ‘forget I have’ do begin sinking further and further down my closet as the addiction to the same long sleeve, tight (yet comfortable) t-shirt and pair of joggers grows stronger.

It’s bad. And whilst I’m all about embracing minimalist fashion, it gets to the point where I’ll spill an entire cup of coffee down said long sleeve, tight (yet comfortable) t-shirt and pair of joggers and still wear it the next day.

So, I treated myself to some new clothes, because, well… I deserve it. And that’s it. No explanation needed. Sometimes you just deserve to treat yourself.

It’s all part of breaking the mindset that you are enough without your routine… see?

I’m going to leave you all with a quote. I’m pretty proud of it (I actually did it myself)

Love (always),

Olivia

xoxo

Recipe: Olivia’s spicy tuna, sweet potato & sticky rice Supreme

Ingredients:

• 1 sweet potato (enough for a portion of wedges)

• rice (I used sticky and they come in microwaveable pouches (120g) — the convenience is life changing)

• a tin of tuna (one per person)

• some chopped red onion (about 1/4 per person)

• a bunch of chopped chives

• a dollop of Greek yogurt (again, one dollop per person)

• salt and pepper (however much floats ya boat)

• 1 tsp of rice wine vinegar per person

• a drizzle of sriracha (dependent on spice tolerance)

To serve (optional):

• some jalapeños (again, dependent on spice tolerance)

• extra sriracha

• soy sauce

• seaweed (I used the Itsu mini snack packets)

• veggies (dependent on how much you honour #healthgoals lol). My friend made a side of guac and we cooked some broccoli and corn.

Method:

1. Roast the sweet potato in some oil, salt and pepper in a 200 degree Celsius (392 Fahrenheit?) oven

2. If boiling rice, get it on the stove. If microwaving, feel free to do so and keep warm

3. In a bowl combine: tuna, yogurt, red onion, chives, rice wine vinegar, Sriracha, salt & pepper

4. Service! Plop the sweet potato and rice on a plate, dish out the tuna mixture. Serve with extra jalapeños, srircha, soy sauce and veggies

It got me thinking about how much my mood changes when there’s a live sporting event on. How much my spirit raises.

No, not the mid-week football leagues, not the rugby, and definitely not the snooker (sorry Dad).

A live sporting event that captures the attention of a whole nation.

THE LONDON MARATHON.

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Every single time I have turned on national radio this week there’s been some sort of talk regarding the London Marathon.

AND I LOVE IT!!!!

It fills me to the brim with camaraderie, inspiration and pure joy at how incredible humans are.

Hearing that actor James Norton (who starred in one of my favourite British TV series —Happy Valley) is running for type 1 diabetes following his own diagnosis; that Dame Laura Kenny (Britain’s most decorated female Olympian) is running her debut to raise awareness for ectopic pregnancies and miscarriages. That Daddy Pig — yes — the Daddy Pig — is running for the National Deaf Children’s Society.

I mean — of course it’s wildly exciting to hear about all the famous people taking on the 26.2 (I’m specifically talking to you, Daddy Pig).

But what fills me with the most joy is the masses of ordinary people running for their own individual cause. Everyday folk. Like you and I. Who have to deal with everyday shit that life throws them (‘everyday shit’ feels like a gross understatement — but the sheer number of people dealing with this sort of stuff really does show how ‘everyday’ it is):

Laura running in her wedding dress in memory of her late husband, Xander.

Dawn-Marie running in honour of her dad, best-friend, grandfather, great-grandfather and cousin — all of whom she lost to brain tumours.

Angus — aiming to break the Guinness World Record by becoming the youngest and fastest person to run the marathon with an intellectual disability.

It’s an indescribable feeling of joy combined with heartbreak.

Heartbreak — being reminded that millions of people across the globe have awful, devastating and unfair life situations that they have to deal with daily, minutely — secondly.

Joy — also being reminded that there are millions of people across the globe giving a huge middle finger to these awful, devastating and unfair life situations — by taking on one of life’s most difficult endurance sporting events.

And while there’s a lot of talk about the fact that marathons have become a ‘trend’ over the past few years…

And when you combine the above with raising money for charity… what on earth about this event is not totally spirit-renewing?

Doesn’t it make you want to just — get up, put your trainers on and go RUN.

We were quite literally born to run. It’s one of the human body’s most natural biological movements.

So why on earth wouldn’t a global sporting event dedicated to the purity, simplicity and innate goodness of human nature perk up your mood?

Hey. If you want another way of tackling the Sunday Scaries —

— just turn on the London Marathon.

There’s quite literally nothing more perspective shifting than watching 59,000 people run 26.2 miles around London (for the cause of hundreds (if not thousands) of illnesses, diseases and tragic life events) to make you realise that the week ahead of you perhaps isn’t quite as intimidating as you thought it was.

Keeping running my friends (but not if you’re injured. yeah. really don’t keep running if you’re injured. instead, read my blog guide to surviving injury)

Olivia

All this ‘spirit raising’ talk had this song as my earworm while writing…

I know they’re here because despite doing all the steps – morning pilates, a cold shower, a walk outside, marinating in the sun, staying off social media, meal prepping, planning each and every second of the week ahead so there is absolutely no time for a mental breakdown – they are not going away.

The Sunday Night Scaries.

Maybe it’s just me (I know it’s not just me), but no matter how much my week ahead reflects that of a pasty skinned, blood-sucking, life-draining vampire that’s sure to sink its teeth into my neck as soon as my alarm goes off at 7am Monday morning; or that of a rather harmless, cute, bright eyed and bushy tailed little rabbit, minding its own business, frolicking in a field of daisies – I feel the Sunday night scaries in equal measures every single week.

Irritable. Tense. Restless. Fidgety (god help my nails by the end of the day). You name the symptoms of The Sunday Night Scaries and I am feeling them.

So, what I am going to do – in efforts to combat this foreboding feeling of dread, this impending sense of doom (it’s probably not helping that I’m currently sending by self off to sleep via the Netflix show – Something Very Bad Is Going to Happen. iykyk) – is practice gratitude.

Yup. You heard me. G-R-A-T-I-T-U-D-E.

Nothing groundbreaking. Nothing special. Simple – but very effective.

Here’s 3 things that have happened this week that I’m grateful for — because hey! Once I figure out that the week just gone has actually brought me a lot of joy at times, in a sense, I’ve got factual and statistical evidence that this week can also bring me a lot of joy.

And if you know me, you know I love a bit of hard evidence to prove all my irrational fears wrong.

Time to beat these Sunday Night Scaries up until they are black and blue in the face:

1. Going to the theatre with my mum

Yesterday afternoon, I went to watch Private Lives with my mum at The Royal Exchange Theatre in Manchester.

And oh… it was a glorious afternoon.

If you’ve never been to The Royal Exchange, it’s a theatre where the stage is in the centre of the room and seating forms a ring shape around it – a stage layout that creates a real feeling of intimacy.

I’d not been to the theatre in such a long time, but god had I missed it.

There’s nothing quite like going to watch a play. Especially one like Private Lives. It’s not like watching a film – where you’ve got to concentrate on multiple things at once: the scenery, the extras, the cinematography, the editing, the visual effects etc etc.

With a play like Private Lives all that there is to focus on is the characters, the dialogue and how the characters express this dialogue (the latter was definitely my favourite part of Private Lives).

It’s so simple. Yet it is so uniquely wonderful in a way that I’m not quite sure how to put into words yet. Almost like it conveys meaning in the simplest and most human form possible – through visceral and hyperbolic emotion.

2. My meals

I don’t know what sort of Gordon Ramsey fever has been in the air, but my meals have been on another level this week.

Okay, maybe they’d get absolutely destroyed on Kitchen Nightmares, but you know what… I’m proud of them and I think they look cute and I’m proud of me for making them.

It’s the little acts of self love that make a difference, ya know?

3. 5 minute walks outside

None of you know this about me (other than potentially ) but since December I have been bound to a boot and crutches – the result of a grade 4a stress fracture in my tibia (if you’re nosey like every other person in the street who sees a young person in a boot and crutches… it’s from running).

If you know me, you know that I will have found this hellish. Worse than hellish. The ultimate punishment. Hell on earth for that matter.

But… I’m finally able to start doing some 5 minute walks outside and oh my god…

I will never ever in a million trillion gazillion years take movement foregranted again. I am so grateful for it and if you can do it freely then so should you.

It might even be the smaller things than the 5 minute walks outside that are making the biggest impact. For example – not having to hobble with a pair of crutches around the house which more often than not would result in smashed cups of coffee, broken phone screens and overflowing bowls of porridge as I am unable to move from the kitchen sink to the microwave quick enough to stop it boiling over.

Yeah. It’s safe to say it’s been a rough 5 months but you know what – Spring is here and as is the light at the end of the tunnel.

If we are getting super detailed regarding these 5 minute miracle walks – I’m grateful for how gorgeous the cherry blossoms are looking, the little lambs in the field at the end of my road (the furthest destination I can adventure on foot for now), and oh yeah – the sun. On my face. It’s pretty nice. You should try it from time to time.

So there you go. 3 things that happened on the week commencing 13th (ew what a gross number) April that I’m grateful for.

It’s cliche (and maybe you’ve already clicked off this article because you found it too jarring) but as I type these final few words I can feel that impending sense of doom a little further removed than it was at the start.

And remember, it’s all about the mindset. The Sunday Night Scaries literally don’t exist other than in your own mind – they’re just a manifestation of all the anxiety you have about the week ahead.

Okay I’m going to stop pretending to be a self help guru for now I’m not sure it’s suiting me… But… if you think it is suiting me, don’t forget to

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Good luck this Monday (some em who’s boss)

Peace and love (I need to come up with a consistent sign off but I’m too chaotic for that),

Olivia

Or how about this one:

Wait… something a little jazzier:

Oh yeah — can’t forget this one:

If familiarity hasn’t knocked on your door by now then — congratulations — you are officially not chronically online, but also let me introduce Miss Carrie Bradshaw: the cultural icon, the symbol of hyper-visible femininity, the TV character who will most likely go down in history as the ultimate source of inspiration for all the Pinterest girls out there (you know who you are — she’s either saved to your board named ‘revision motivation’, ‘dream wardrobe’ or ‘dream life’).

To expand, Carrie Bradshaw seems to have transcended into somewhat of a cultural archetype: something that reflects everything ‘a girl’ (I want you to think utmost traditional stereotypical girl here — do your worst) wants to be — studious and fashionable; but also something that reflects everything a girl wants to have — a closet overflowing with designer items, the best girlfriends in the world ever, and an unattainably romantic (to the point where it feels like a fantasy) and desire-stricken relationship.

But do we really understand how Carrie and Sex and the City became so iconic? How a low-budget pilot shot in New York — where the characters dressed in outfits that were “begged and borrowed [...] from warehouses” (Sarah Jessica Parker) — became a showplace for fashion, not to mention the visual catalogue of aspirational femininity.

So, I thought it would be fun to break down some of the moments that lead to Substack writers — I’m sorry but sometimes tirelessly (it’s really nothing personal…) — posting pictures like this:

And that lead to a constant stream of Pinterest collages like this:

And of course, that turned fashion from this:

Into this:

Okay, maybe the above two pictures are a little hyperbolic but you get the gist — it shifted fashion from absolute minimalism to personalised and individualised maximalism.

If you know me, you know I love to explore a deeper meaning behind something, so why not be a little more educated about Miss Bradshaw before you post your next Substack? Really, it’s nothing personal if you’ve posted her and we can totally still be friends. But…

I hate to admit it but the novelty is starting to wear off — so let’s at least understand her significance, rather than just hopping on (Pinterest) board with the trend.

Patricia Field as a visual storyteller

Speaking of trends, the irony arises in the fact that Sex and the City’s costume designer, Patricia Field actually despised trends — just as much as Anna Wintour despised the emergence of ‘grunge’ fashion in the early 1990s.

Not only did she refuse to submit herself to trends — therefore giving each character their own timeless and personal aesthetic; but what was really special about Patricia was her ability to use psychology to define the characters — and to ultimately to tell the story of a freelance writer and her three best friends as they navigate: sex, relationships and their careers, all amongst the hustle and bustle of New York City.

It sounds obvious, but each character’s outfit reflects their personality. Field is quite literally the master of her craft when it comes to showing not telling (she was clearly paying attention in her high school English class):

And what happens when you mush four juxtaposing personalities (and styles) together? Well, you get a 6 series, 94 episode hit TV show and two blockbuster movies. Oh, and a spin off series — And Just Like That (it just wasn’t quite the same without you Samantha, and I’m a tad confused on the alarming transition from Cosmopolitans to vibrators?!)

So, with some highly intelligent storytelling thanks to Fields, combined with the rise of consumer culture (millennial nostalgia is screaming from the rooftops right now) — we can see why and how four female characters in a TV show about fashion, friends and love had (and still has) the ability to redefine what ‘trendy’ is over 25 years later. Patricia, I’m sorry, I know that sentence would make your heart sink a few inches.

Storytelling in the iconic moments

Patricia Field’s costuming had this weird and wonderful ability to tell stories through fashion. But what specific moments in the show stand out?

1. The Tutu

Imagine this — you’re strutting through New York in a baby pink tank top and tutu, you approach a pedestrian crossing — but a bus cuts in front of you and whilst doing so splashes you with a concoction of grit, oil and residue — all of which splatters over your childishly pure yet equally elegant and innovative outfit.

Your expression quickly turns from whimsical to positively frustrated — but in the meantime — little do you know — in this very moment you are becoming a symbol of cultural significance.

This clip in the opening credits of the TV show is a moment that introduces Carrie as the whimsy, unpredictable, naive and dreamy character that she is — and there’s not even any dialogue — just a couple of 5 dollar thrifted pieces, and a girl that screams relatability (like Bridget Jones but with better fashion sense).

Patricia Field’s choice of mixing ‘designer looking pieces’ with thrifted items was quite literally the gateway to modern styling.

At the time, it was non-conformist, it was bold, and it was even a little fairy tale-like.

It broke away from minimalist norms and embraced individualism — even if it didn’t make ‘sense’ then — it certainly does now (perhaps a little too much so).

2. The Baguette!!!!

Okay, let’s pretend you’re headed home to change out of your now grit, oil and residue covered outfit.

You take a shortcut, an alleyway on Jersey Street. I mean it’s the middle of the day, it can’t be too risky?

Wrong.

All of a sudden, you are approached by a rather tall, dark and handsome looking man. But NO. He’s pulled a gun out… and he’s pointing it directly at you!

You panic. You don’t have any cash on you. You’re not wearing any particularly expensive jewellery. You’ve got nothing to give! Maybe he’ll just shoot you there and then.

“Give me your bag” he insists

“Oh for goodness sake”, you think to yourself.

At least if he’s going to take your ‘bag’ — call it by its true name — a Baguette. Fendi. Purple sequins. The green FF logo and all (insert: bawling crying emoji).

Surely not, surely he isn’t going to strip you of your baguette. The utter horror of it!

After a much needed linguistic correction — “My Baguette?!”, he then demands “Give me your Manolo Blahniks”

Seriously?! This man really knows how to strip a woman of her most beloved and cherished possessions. You got these half price at a sample sale too (the latter being something that you exclaim to him in much dismay, but he seems rather uninterested — evident by a huge eye roll).

It’s too late — you continue your journey home — now both Baguetteless and Manolo Blahniksless.

“These guys aren’t just after money anymore — they’re after fashion”, you think to yourself.

Then, as if by magic, the purple sequin model with the green FF logo becomes the world’s first ‘It bag’. Sales for Fendi surge overnight, it becomes the defining accessory of the 2000s.

Not only this, but ‘the baguette’ scene gave other luxury brands a ‘kick up the arse’ so to speak, and encouraged them to utilise product placement across film and television. (enter Carrie entering tripping and falling and sliding flat on her face into a Dior store).

Carrie: The Writer

So, we understand how a few seemingly insignificant moments in the show lead to Sex and the City taking the fashion industry by the scruff of the neck and showing ‘em whose boss.

But what about this whole ‘writer aesthetic’?

I’ve got a few thoughts swirling around my mind as to why ‘Carrie: The Writer’ seems to have really landed with a few (million) girls across the globe.

Let’s break them down:

1. ‘romanticise it’ culture

The phrase ‘romanticise it’ has become somewhat of a buzzword in daily life.

Washing the dishes? Romanticise it by pretending you’re Anna Bates (the head housemaid) from Downtown Abbey

Going on a run? Romanticise it by pretending you’re Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games running away from a group mutts.

Revising physics? Romanticise it by pretending you’re Albert Einstein on the cusp of laying out the foundations of light, gravity and matter.

Writing an English essay? Romanticise it by pretending you’re Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City who’s about to send an article to Vogue.

Capesh? Ahhh — capesh.

Romanticising the mundane makes the mundane, well… less mundane.

It fills a void — A void that has likely formed due to social media and influencers who portray the perfectly aesthetic life. Romanticising everyday shit that you don’t want to do turns chores into rituals.

And consumerism. We now feel the need to buy aesthetic candles aesthetic mugs aesthetic laptops aesthetic pens aesthetic journals aesthetic cutlery aesthetic blankets aesthetic looking gummies that stop you from bloating — all in order to achieve the perfectly aesthetic lifestyle. Say aesthetic one more time, Olivia. I dare you.

But what does romanticising life 24/7 do in reality?

It creates this exceptionally high standard of living — a standard of living that rarely meets up to its expectations — ironically making the void we attempt to fill bigger; as we feel the need to consume more in order to miraculously discover: precisely what we should buy, precisely how we should act, precisely how we should live — as if one day it will just ‘click’.

A little romanticisation every now and again is probably harmless — in fact, it’s probably a good thing (whatever will get you that grade A). But the more I think about it, the more I see consumerism taking over, and the more I see real life slipping away into a black hole of digital noise.

Okay, mini rant over.

Overall, it’s okay to romanticise the English essay you’ve been procrastinating by channelling your inner Carrie, just make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons — not just because you’ve seen a gazillion other people do it online.

2. she makes overthinking look pretty

Creator Darren Star really did hit the nail on the head when casting Sarah Jessica Parker as Carrie.

Undeniably SJP is beautiful, and even when she’s upset, confused, mad, sad or bawling her eyes out in her wedding dress — she still looks like a complete and utter goddess.

Overthinking, anxiety and self-analysis (and even times of ‘depression’ or low mood) is made pretty by being turned into “I couldn’t help but wonder”. And in a pandemic of mental health issues, it makes sense why so many people latch on to Carrie as a means of coping — as a means of feeling less alone in their struggles.

3. final Pinterest slander I promise

I won’t bore you with anymore romanticism ranting, but, with the emergence of social media, it feels inevitable that Carrie would become a symbol of aspirational femininity.

How to create a symbol of aspirational femininity:

writer + a deeper thinker + extremely fashionable + three girlfriends with distinct personality + one nuanced boyfriend = the aspirational female i.e. Carrie Bradshaw

I’m sorry but her aesthetic was practically built for social media. The show was extremely ahead of its time in that sense.

What does social media preach?

Hustle culture →Carrie. Tick — a hard working and accomplished writer; a writer for Vogue; a published author; features in Vogue (in her wedding dress of all things); a podcaster.

What else does social media preach?

Spiritual engagement → Carrie. Tick — an overthinker; a deep thinker; vulnerable; curious (I’ve just realised I have been subconsciously Carrinfluenced — see below image describing my other newsletter. FFS!)

And finally, it wouldn’t be social media if consumerism wasn’t in each and every corner you peak into…

Aspiration and consumption →Carrie. Tick — overflowing designer pieces (I’m sorry but 100 pairs averaging 400 dollars each off an early 2000s newspaper columnist salary?); a shopaholic (uses shopping as an emotional response to stress specifically boy issues — I’m not using the term ‘shopaholic’ lightly here — she literally embodies the term with body, heart and soul); style first mentality — wears impractical outfits for everyday life (i.e. the tutu).

The persona of Carrie was quite literally geared towards a life that operates in constant interaction with social media. Not only do designer fashion brands have a lot to thank her for (particularly with the shift from physical media to digital media), but so does the ‘It girl’ side of the internet — and all the brands and influencers that operate and make a living because of it.

closing thoughts…

I implore I plead and I beg you to consider the above before falling victim to Carrinfluence (I’m copywriting that word and want students to refer to me as a media theorist in their essays in years to come— something along the lines of ‘Theorist, Olivia Lloyd-Jones coined the term Carrinfluence…’).

By all means, rewatch the TV show (I don’t even know where to begin if you’ve not even watched the show!) and take all the inspiration you wish from the outfits and the lifestyle and the relationships — but just remember it is dramatised and not a true reflection of what real life is like.

Once again the media succeeds in distorting our perception of reality.

It is so okay: to not have a designer filled closet; to not ever land your dream job; to not have found your three best girlfriends that will be ‘friends for life’ (I mean the irony in the whole Samatha situation is best to be left for another day…); and to not constantly be in a situationship — which is merely fueled by desire, distance and delayed fulfilment.

If Carrie and Big’s relationship were to define the cultural impact that the show still continues to have (I’m not saying it does, but if it did) — then it is a huge red flag.

Dear reader

Thank you so much for reading!

I hope this article didn’t come across as too slanderous toward Sex and the City. Because I really do love Carrie and everything about the show/ films.

However, what I don’t love is the internet’s ability to distort how we see reality.

And what I also don’t love is the internet’s ability to take wonderful shows like Sex and the City and wonderful characters like Carrie Bradshaw and transform them into a means of commodification. It makes me sick to my stomach!

Anyway, would love to know your thoughts in the comments!

Leave a comment

And don’t forget to

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LOL (lots of love because that’s why it really means)

Olivia xoxo

I know they say the prefrontal cortex doesn’t fully develop until age 25, but let me tell you — I could practically feel the unused synapses in my brain shedding — as if to make way for more frequently used pathways — providing me with a purifying shower of clarity. Not to mention the literal sensation I felt when the link between my prefrontal cortex (responsible for rational thought) and amygdala (responsible for emotional reaction) became noticeably stronger — as if to allow my rational brain to indeed regulate my emotional brain, in a way that it simply has never done before.

I digress… I became privileged enough to experience this brain rewiring phenomenon because of some research I was conducting for an essay on my other newsletter — After The Credits — which involves in-depth analytical pieces that explore film and fiction through a lens of feminism, Marxism, but also through a lens of psychoanalysis.

We’ve all heard of Sigmund Freud and his revolutionary approach to understanding the labyrinth that is the human mind. Well, the theory that I came across does indeed stem from Freud and his psychoanalytic approach; but it wasn’t Freud himself who came up with this theory. It was a gent called Jacques Lacan — aka Freud wearing a beret, holding a baguette, and sipping a glass of red wine (apologies to all my French subs, I know there’s more to you than that).

So, Jacques Lacan was a French psychoanalyst who ‘reinterpreted’ much of Freud’s work. And before you jump to any conclusions… No, I do not agree with all of his principles — it appears he was, and is, quite the controversial figure… The words ‘cultish’, ‘scammer’ and ‘phallus’ ( i.e. his work largely focused on the male species, rejecting women entirely and reducing them to ‘the Other’ or ‘not man’ — we hate to see it) all spring to mind when forming an accurate description of his work.

But nobody’s perfect, right? Okay he really was not perfect but that’s not the point and I implore you to keep reading to discover the same hidden gem amongst the rough.

But before I do indeed reveal this hidden gem to you, first, you’ll need some context.

Lacan formulated a concept called ‘mirror stage’, which occurs during the first 6-18 months of life.

Ever wondered why babies appear so confused, curious and sometimes even unsettled when seeing their reflection in the mirror for the first time? Well, Lacan has the answer to all your wonders. He argues that the mirror stage is particularly disturbing for infants because what they see in the mirror does not reflect how they feel on the inside.

You’re probably as confused as I was (and as confused as that baby looks) on learning this. Allow me to explain.

The human mind operates at a gazillion miles per hour. As humans, we are in a constant stream of consciousness.

We have thoughts speeding around our skulls at a faster speed than Lando Norris speeds around an F1 track.

We have relentless images, colours and shapes gracing our eyes — the white plate with a fork on it and crumbs of a pitta bread; the way the two chairs opposite are not quite straight and facing outwards like they’ve just had an argument; the blue and grey faded shirt hanging on the back of one of said chairs like its just finished a painstakingly dull day at an admin based nine-to-five (if you can’t tell, I’m listing things that my eyes give me the ability to see at this very moment in time).

Anyway… to say that humans have ‘a lot going on’ in their heads is a gross understatement.

So, when a baby looks in the mirror and sees a reflection that is not only none of the above, and in fact — quite the opposite — a stable, symmetrical and stationary image i.e. their face — it is unsurprising that they would be confused, and perhaps begin screaming or crying at the utter horror of it.

With all the doubt, hesitation, scepticism, query and disbelief that they have the ability to muster up at such a youthful age, the small child looks in the mirror and ponders to themselves…

“How on earth am I supposed to convey to the world what I am feeling if my mirror image reflects nothing of the sorts? Will I really spend my life being misunderstood?”

Okay, maybe it’s not quite the above fully formed sentence, but it’s along those lines…

And then as if to rub salt in the wound, the baby does not even have the ability to form words. They aren’t even given the opportunity to try and make themselves understood (in a somewhat decorous manner, at least) — so of course they resort to hour long wails of anguish to inform their parental figure that their nappy is soiled and causing great discomfort amongst their buttocks; and of course they squeal with all the joy in the world a little too inconsiderately at a restaurant when their mother allows them ice cream for the first time, as if to say, “yes mummy, feed me this instead of broccoli”.

Perhaps for babies the luxury of language is obsolete, but for us privileged adult folk, (according to Lacan) it is words (language) that bridge the gap between our internal and external states; at least, they give a well-meaning effort to.

As humans, we use language to try and express how we are feeling. But language more often than not fails in its role as the sturdy, dependable and reliable bridge we expect of it; and more often than not acts as a ladder. Except the gaps between each rail of the ladder are approximately 8 meters wide, so it’s not exactly easy to get all (if any) of the information between the internal and external across.

This leaves our true intentions… floating in the abyss — falling through the gaps of a ladder. Or sometimes not even able to take the first step…

What I gather from this:

No matter how much you try to verbally explain yourself to someone else, they will never understand you. Ever. Kinda refreshing, no?

Lacan also had a lot to say about the fashion industry, arguing that it is sustained by a human’s yearning to be understood and accepted. He believed clothing is a ‘second skin’ — something which offers both physical protection, but more importantly, psychological protection. It is one of the only times that humans can truly identify with an idealised version of themselves — the version of themselves that they long to be.

Basically, he believed anyone with a remote interest in fashion to be a narcissist who is attempting to manage what they lack within, and this management is done by supervising the outer appearance. yeah I always knew deep down I was a narcissist.

Overall, what I took from the above Chicken Caesar Salad of words, sentences… allegations — is this…

As humans, we will never ever in a million years be understood by anyone else.

Nobody. Not our mum, not our dad, not our teacher, not our nan, not our brother, not our sister, not our best friend, not even our therapist.

No matter how many heart-to-hearts we have with our bestie, or how many seemingly intimate conversations we have with our sibling, or how many interactions we leave feeling truly ‘understood’ — it is simply impossible for a being who isn’t us to understand our lived experience as… well — us (You, Me, She, He etc etc…).

Yet we have this innate desire to be understood; to be accepted; to become fully realised versions of ourselves, so that we can present our image to the world in an exact and true — yet equally idealised — way (don’t even get me started on that paradox).

We want our mirror image to reflect the perfect image. But there is no perfect image, only our vision of the perfect image — a vision that nobody will ever truly understand.

It’s a paradox — we live in a constant state of trying, yearning and longing to be fully comprehended; yet others will resolutely be trapped on the outside of our internality. So where’s the surprise humans that are so damn depressed, anxious, and generally unhappy with their lives? They are persistently chasing external validation and falling short of what they are after — every. single. time.

Think of it like a tortoise chasing a floating carrot. But the carrot is being held by a small rabbit sitting on its shell, which is holding said carrot out in front of the tortoise using a stick and a very fine, almost invisible, piece of fine string. The human is the tortoise. External validation is the carrot. No matter how hard the tortoise attempts to pursue the carrot, it will never get any closer (and one day, the carrot external validation may indeed lead the tortoise human off a cliff…).

Lacan suggests (not me — Lacan — you can’t hold me accountable if you attempt this and anything freaky happens…) that humans should accept that they will be in a forever state of being misunderstood, and therefore (naturally) also in a forever state of misunderstanding.

But besides acceptance, I’m actually not sure what else you should do, I didn’t look that far into it. But I once heard someone say that acceptance reduces emotional suffering and builds resilience… or something along those lines…

Wait, actually, here me out. I’ve got an idea.

You could attack the small rabbit which has inhabited itself on your shell, bite into its neck like a blood sucking vampire, cut the very fine piece of string attaching itself to the carrot, give the carrot a big ol’ middle finger, and live happily ever after…

But then again, that’s just my interpretation. I’m not taking responsibility if it all goes pear shaped for you. Who knows what could happen once you stop seeking external validation and find it within yourself — once you stop unceasingly striving to make yourself understood and instead understand yourself.

I mean, you might turn into some crazy spiritual Buddha-like figure who ejects (I hate that word) self love and doesn’t equate their happiness to how much self love and understanding they receive from others.

I mean, I, for one, don’t know… however I don’t know about you, but I’m starting to feel like it’s about time that I do indeed get to know.

Jacques Lacan, I don’t love you or worship you or anything of the sorts, but thanks for the perspective shift. It’s much appreciated xoxo

Hey there reader, thank you so much for making it to the end.

I love writing little pieces like this. As in, cosplaying as a philosopher, putting my world and everyone else’s world to right. It’s so much fun lol.

But seriously, I actually think that the concept that Jacques Lacan came up with regarding nobody ever truly understanding you — takes off a lot of mental pressure. I mean, it did for me at least, as someone who constantly feels misunderstood (#feltvulnerablemightdeletelater).

I would love to know your thoughts — maybe you completely disagree and think being understood and connecting with others so that they are able to truly understand you, is a vital part of human existence?

Let’s start a discussion…

Or not… and if not, until next time xoxo

It’s taken many years for me to recognise exactly what these sources of comfort are, and I can’t see myself developing any new ones any time soon, as it takes some serious familiarisation with said ‘comforters’ in order for them to do their job ‘to a tee’. For like of a better way of putting this - my comfort taste, if you will, is rather… acquired.

But let me tell you, when I find these emotional anchors, I latch onto them for dear life, and the feelings they formulate inside me have become somewhat imprinted into my neurochemistry. For instance, the mere thought of one of them presents me with a certain ‘easefulness’; I don’t even have to be physically experiencing them at that moment in time. Impressive huh?

1. A Bookstore

If by some cyberattack-like tragedy the whole of the internet collapses, I want dibs on my local bookstore. Everything about a bookstore makes me feel at ease. In fact I think it’s psychologically and physiology impossible (for me) to feel anything other than serene when physically immersed within one.

We’ve got to talk sensory pleasures when talking bookstores. Whilst the distinctive smell of books comes from a rather volatile organic compound that is released as paper’s cellulose and lignin break down (not especially romantic sounding, but stay with me); that vanillary, almondy, woody, musky smell may as well be stapled to my nostrils at this point, because the way it lights up my olfactory bulb is difficult for me to put into words (seemingly ironic considering I could happily inhabit myself in a store full of them… words… that is).

Something about a book store enables me to find order in the chaos of the world. Everything is how it should be: books ordered alphabetically by author’s surname, different sections of the store all dedicated to different genres, themes and audiences. I can physically walk from sci-fi vampire murder mystery: to breakfast dishes around the world: to David Bowie’s biography: to 101 ways to style a beret: to Victorian romance, all in a matter of seconds. The endless possibilities of stories and narratives and creations are endless, without feeling overwhelming. It takes me out of my own head and into the lives of so many others - the ultimate way to gain perspective (in my opinion). It’s inspirational and fascinating and terrifying and mesmerising, all at the same time.

And it’s not even like I’m going to read all of these books, much to my dismay, but I would be in there until my last dying day (still barely even scratching the surface), and it would require some form of internet shut down because I just love film too much. But sometimes just staring into the souls of the book covers (each different piece of art) is meditation in itself. Each cover is so strikingly diverse. Some matte some glossy some with extravagant landscapes some cartoon animated some with doors some with a pair of dice some with a pair of eyes some showing an intricately detailed coffee shop some with teacups some with an apple some with an avocado some with human silhouettes some black some white some blue some navy blue some baby blue some pink some orange some teal some viridian… it’s all just so… beautifully spellbinding.

2. Fantastic Mr Fox (2009) - the film

Speaking of loving film too much… If a gun were to be placed against my skull, and I was forced to choose one movie to rewatch time and time again, it would be Fantastic Mr Fox. It really does just scratch my brain in all the right places.

Firstly, it’s a stop motion animation. The characters are physically moved in a ‘frame by frame’ fashion, and I can practically feel the care and intention put into it by the animators; precisely curating each move so it flows effortlessly, whilst still enabling me to escape into the world of animation. The film director, Wes Anderson, has a distinctive style to his masterpieces. He uses symmetrical framing and composition. At any given moment in the film you could press pause and that exact, unsystematic shot in which you paused, would happily sit as a piece of art displayed on my wall.

The inclusion of certain tactile characteristics such as: visible vibrations of the animal’s fur, the soft flowing of the trees in the wind, and harsh digging of Boggis, Bunce and Bean’s menacing tractors churning up soil; it feels like slurping a bowl of my Grandma’s warming, rustic, homemade soup. Each and every handmade detail sending internal heat through my bloodstream and into my neurons (I’m not actually sure if that’s scientifically possible, but you get the gist).

I feel like it would be a complete and utter crime to fail to mention the use of cinematic gastronomy (the use of food in cinema) in Fantastic Mr Fox. The subtle display of ‘cockscomb jelly’ and ‘gosling jam’ jars on the breakfast table; the way Mrs Fox pours a black cup of joe using a cafetiere (that is an uncanny resemblance of my own) into Mr Fox’s cup; the way the liquid drops into then bounces out of the cup; the way Mrs Fox paces around the kitchen, ranting to her son whilst simultaneously whisking some form of egg mixture. It all feels so sophisticated, so humane, so relatable. But then… the manner in which Mr Fox gobbles, gulps and wolfs down his toast, his crumby remains scattered around the table, exactly how you would imagine a wild animal to consume their meal - it brings a whole new sensory experience (using juxtaposition) that I didn’t even know I needed. Don’t even get me started on the nutmeg ginger apple snap, apple cider, or supermarket scenes because I will be here for days.

All in all, Fantastic Mr Fox is whimsical, it’s slightly off-kilter, but most crucially it acknowledges imperfection, anxiety and oddness without turning it into a spectacle. Practically a solid 90 minutes of cerebral satisfaction.

3. Emma Chamberlain’s Youtube Channel

Now onto what Google describes as ‘American businesswoman’ (I just love that for you, Emma) - Emma Chamberlain. If you don’t know who Emma Chamberlain is: a) have you been living under a rock? b) she’s a Youtuber, podcaster, model, business owner, fashion icon, and just icon for that matter. My (regrettably) parasocial relationship with Emma has been a staple throughout the last 7 years of my life (when I discovered her). I would love to describe each and every aspect of those 7 years in immense detail, but that would likely take us to a 400 page book, so let me save you some time…

When Emma started her Youtube channel back in 2017, it was giving ‘chaotic’. We had the constant melodramatic sound effects - suspenseful music to a clip of her putting her phone in a box, followed by a ‘Kaboom’ sound effect as she informs us she’s putting her phone away for THE WHOLE DAY (the title of the video being 24 HOURS WITHOUT A PHONE) Not to mention the constant zooming in on her face to add emphasis to certain sentences (a Youtuber’s version of italics), and the altering of the pitch of her voice to sound really high or really low (for the extra lols and emphasis… obviously). If you still have no idea what I’m talking about, you can find a perfect example of Brandy Melville, teddy bear jacket, Converse, messy bun, cute crop and joggers, obsessed Emma here.

Without question did 13 year old me find this style of her content fun, exciting, stimulating and even comforting. But Emma’s Youtube has undergone a major glow up over recent years (and my already overstimulated and anxious 20 year old brain thanks her for it nearly everyday). We now get long shots of scenery like skyscrapers, parks, roads, coffee shops (usually in New York, LA, or whatever cool European city she’s visiting that month); long shots of random items, like an open suitcase peppered with shoes, clothes, lipstick; or a slow zoom of an isolated piece of dark chocolate, crumbling at the edges; not to mention a pair of retainers, caseless on her bedside table, next to a puddle of spilled water from her bedside glass. All of which is accompanied by ambient lounge music, which just makes you want to melt into your bed (or wherever you’re watching her videos from).

It’s still. And it’s even kind of boring. But that’s why I love it. It enables tranquility to exist in a space (the internet) which is constantly moving, frantically for that matter. Not only until you finish one of her videos and click onto the #goodvibesonly #lookatthisbrandnewrangerovermydaddyjustboughtmeataged16 and #feelingblessed can of worms that is the majority of social media, that you realise just how refreshingly unfiltered and calming Emma’s is. It doesn’t expect anything from you, and it doesn’t drain your attention; it’s just there for you when you need it.

Like being in a warm bath. While you’re in the tub, you’re enjoying some R&R, you’re nice and cosy, but maybe after a while you start to get a little bored, and begin to crave a different stimulus. Then you step out, and you’re now shivering in your towel. Only once your skin is exposed to the brisk air and begins developing goosebumps, do you realise just how much you appreciated the idleness that being in the bath provided you with.

4. Waking up 3 hours before your alarm, with 3 HOURS of sleep left (not the usual 7 minute pre alarm wake up which goes by in about 8.5 seconds)

Okay, surely this is a universal feeling? But you can’t tell me there is a more comforting experience than waking up in the middle of the night, thinking it’s 6:25am (your alarm going off at 6:30am), then heavily disorientated, stumbling across your room, low-key zombie style (because it’s pitch black and you’re extending your arms out to prevent yourself from walking right into your wardrobe), patting down the floor in attempt to find your phone (in the same style as a cop would if some sniffer dogs have just sniffed out some cocaine on someone through airport security), and the illumination of your phone showing 2:08am. The feeling of relief; it’s about as rewarding as finding pure gold (because I know exactly how that feels…). You then place your phone back down, and, with ease (because you mapped out your ‘route’ to the other side of the room about 34 seconds prior) hop, skip but ultimately disappear back into your crisp yet snug sheets, with the smugness of knowing you have another fours hours of hibernation ahead of you. Pure. Bliss.

5. Thoughts of Death

Let’s end with something a little bit deeper…

But firstly a disclaimer: this is not how it sounds!

What I really mean by ‘thoughts of death’, is knowing that someday, when (hopefully) many years have passed, none of ‘this’ is going to mean anything. Anything. How liberating and anxiety zapping is that!?

And an added bonus…in about another 150 years, the mere thought of your or my existence (from someone else’s perspective) is also going to mean nil/nada/nichts either. Because they’ll be dead too!

Whoooo! We are all gonna die! Yay!

So when I catch myself spiralling; worrying about something that happened 5 years ago, worrying about a decision I have to make today, worrying about how today’s decision is going to impact me in five years time; I force myself to pause. Pause and think the following - one day I’ll be six feet under at the local graveyard, or (more favourably) my ashes will be sprinkled into the snowy Alps of Switzerland, or into the Mediterranean sea, off a coastal cliff in Greece, looking out over a fierce golden yellow and blood orange sunset; and that will be it. The end of my existence. And whilst that time is likely going to be a long way away, and I will have many more instances where I am forced to ‘sit’ and ‘dwell’ on decisions I’ve made in the past, make in the present, and will make in the future; at least I have the solace that nobody makes it out of here alive, so existential worrying is rather nonsensical.

~

If you’ve made it to the end of my waffling on about niche experiences and moments in my life that bring/ have brought me comfort, thank you. Really, it means a lot. And I hope that my weird and wonderful grounding forces have perhaps inspired you to consider some elements of your own life that bring you comfort in times of anxiety, chaos, unease or uncertainty.

Because when life gives you lemons, you don’t always need to make lemonade. You don’t always need to do the internet cold turkey, yoga retreat, caffeine detox, extravagant gratitude journal sesh, 30 minute daily meditation practice that the rest of the world tells us to do.

Be different. Be unique. Find your own ways to emotionally ground yourself. Make pink lemonade (or whatever flavour gets you through).

ps - if all else fails, just try listening to some Bon Iver in a dark room. Extra points if you’ve got some form of light projector that projects blue ocean waves onto your ceiling. Works a treat.

I used to be knee deep in the whole universe shit, and it brought me immense feelings of comfort. That absolutely everything was going to work out in my favour; that I was on exactly the correct path; that everything coming my way was happening for a very specific reason; that in years to come I would sit back, rocking chair and all, gently nodding to myself ‘ah, yes, so this happened triggering this to happen’ so on and so forth. Present me is eyerolling at myself so hard for even thinking this (it’s not MY fault that Pinterest exists! (still love you though Pinterest 🫶)).

But recently, ideology surrounding ‘the universe’ has been getting my knickers in a twist. See, I used to be 100% invested into believing the ‘universe had my back’ (whatever the hell that means). But then I would open the news and… oh look, mother and child die in a house fire, 9 million people died from worldwide hunger last year; not to mention numerous wars with millions of innocent suffering dying and or both. I mean, why didn’t the universe have their backs?

So, I came to rethink my relationship with the universe as of late. Perhaps I was unhealthily relying on it to ‘save me’, ‘tell me what to do’, be the ‘knight in shining armour to my damsel in distress’...again… eyeroll.

But I’ve since come to realise that the universe isn’t actually what is in control, and sometimes, neither am I (nor are the millions suffering across the world, completely and utterly unjustly for that matter).

And the thought of that in itself brings comfort; you do not always have control of the bad things that are going to happen (or have happened) to you. But most importantly, neither does the universe!!!

I can’t predict whether I will get hit by a bus tomorrow; whether I just so happen to book that long anticipated trip to Thailand during its largest tsunami yet; whether I’m in the wrong place at the wrong time when a group of armed robbers decide to burgle my local corner shop (I’m a complete hypocrite, but I’m knocking on wood right now).

The above is scary to accept. And my deepest and most sincere condolences are with those experiencing unwarranted abuse. But I’ve come to realise that the universe and its (nonexistent, by the way) power and ability to intervene with our individual lives is not what’s causing war, world hunger, or certain catastrophic events. The universe is not some moral agent with the responsibility of distributing fairness and protecting people. Instead, it is systematic failure and randomness which causes events like the above.

Therefore my comfort in ‘the universe having my back’ rather becomes - I trust that I can cope regardless of what happens; I trust that I can control my reaction to things sent to destroy my peace.

The only thing you have ultimate control over is your own actions. So this is me giving you permission to let go of the comfort you’ve been borrowing from the universe, and to find your own. Perhaps this is through moral clarity, or through confidence in knowing that you will do your best (whatever the hell that means) regardless.

Start taking control of what you can, instead of sitting back, relaxing and waiting for the universe to ‘work its magic’ (I hate to break it to you sweetie, but it’s not gonna).

The snow day. Once a day filled with pure bliss, ecstasy even, free of all routine and responsibility. Now? A burden.

You might have guessed that as I type this, I look out over my garden which is covered in a blanket of the fluffy white stuff. In fact, my view is really quite stunning; it’s about 3pm on a January afternoon, the sun is starting to lower in the sky creating that wintry midafternoon golden slant on my face. The snow crystals are in full on ‘glisten mode’ and to some degree dazzling my eyes. I sit here longing, yearning for my childhood. For one more day of opening my curtains with an uncontrollable smile, nodding my head in excitement as if to say ‘Yes! The universe is on my side today!’

Okay, perhaps I wouldn’t be contemplating my relationship with the universe at the ripe age of ten; more likely checking with my mother that she had received an email from school confirming my freedom for THE WHOLE DAY!!!

But the snow day isn’t like any regular day off school. No no. The snow day is very different.

Upon researching, I discovered that the feeling you get as a child on a snow day is something called a frisson - ‘a sudden strong feeling of excitement or fear; a thrill’. In my experience at least, it’s that feeling of not quite knowing whether your wildest dream has come true (the day off), alongside the slight possibility of the worst case scenario (school) being 45 minutes around the corner (if the miserable gits decide to ‘plough on’ regardless, that is).

But oh boy! The satisfaction of rushing downstairs to see both parents still in sleepwear, enjoying their morning coffees a little too nonchalantly, as opposed to the usual morning mayhem of: Lunchboxes! Water bottles! Homework! Ingredients for food tech this morning! That sight is everything and more to give you peace of mind that the hours from 7am to 10pm that evening are utterly and wholly your own.

Yet how is it that a day once so magical and enchanting, becomes a burden, miserable even?

I’ll tell you how.

Adulting.

What was once a day free from all societal expectations, where you could quite literally run around the park for hours on end throwing compact pieces of snow at your friends, followed by getting back into your pyjamas at 1pm, followed by drinking hot chocolate instead of water, and nobody thinking to question you - is now a hindrance. Not to mention the hints of resentment you feel towards those children throwing said compact pieces of snow at each other, as you watch their smug little faces across the street, sitting in your baltic car waiting for it to defrost, with a whole day of pure mundanity ahead of you. The only remote positive is that at least you have a scenic winter wonderland to view from the window of your painstakingly dull office job.

Like with most aspects of adulthood, we must learn to accept the disenchantment of the snow day. Yes it’s inconvenient, yes it’s a lightly depressing reminder of the childhood emotions ‘never to be experienced again’, and yes it should have happened two weeks sooner, so at least you could have appreciated it alongside your still present Christmas tree as you sat down to indulge in your third Christmas movie of the day (I write this on 6th January, two weeks prior being 23rd December, the midst of the ‘festive break’).

So no, there is nothing especially ground breaking to learn from the snow day. Except this. The feelings of immense joy we were lucky enough to have experienced on a snow day give us hope that this joy hasn’t vanished - simply relocated itself.

I advise you to hold on tightly to the (big or small) moments within your snow day that enable you to feel even the slightest sense of childhood nostalgia. The slightest admiration for the silent magic that covers your morning commute from head to toe. The satisfaction of getting home that evening and treating yourself to a soul filling cup of hot chocolate with a comfort movie. Or even changing how you view those ‘smug’, little children on your morning commute. Instead appreciating the circle of life for its rounds, knowing that in about 10 years they’ll be the ones reminiscing.

Because although this snow day may appear like a ‘nightmare after Christmas’, Jack Skellington (The Nightmare Before Christmas) reminds us that ‘just because [we] cannot see it, doesn’t mean [we] can’t believe it’.

Just because we are no longer children waking up to a day of complete heaven, doesn’t mean we can’t (somewhat) act like them. Learn to romanticise the seemingly inconvenient or minor elements of life. You never know, you might just learn to rediscover the magic in them.