It’s been nearly six months since I last wrote. I can’t believe it’s been so long. I can’t believe how much time has passed and how much has happened. So much has happened, so fast, that I’ve felt a little like I’ve been a spectator of my own life. Or maybe this is what it feels like in the eye of a storm – like life is whirling madly around you and you’re simultaneously at the centre of it but outside of it all too.
Where do I even begin?
I struggle a lot with “new year”. I struggle with New Year’s Eve, New Year’s Day, and January. Let’s be real – I struggle with the whole year after that, too.
I just can’t handle the overwhelm around this period. The pressure is so intense – the pressure to have an amazing New Year Eve’s, the pressure to start January 1st as you mean to go on, the pressure to change overnight and fulfil all those New Year’s resolutions overnight… It doesn’t happen for me, ever. And then the depression and demotivation set in. The feeling that I’m a failure because I’ve ruined 2017 already and it’s barely started.
Another long one. This post is all about aesthetic uniformity. And I get to why I love Moleskines so much about halfway down.
Thoughts On Being Aesthetically Uniform
I really rate aesthetic uniformity. By that I mean anything that’s aesthetically uniform and coherent – whether that be a person, an Instagram account, a blog, a stationary addiction. Any sort of aesthetic uniformity speaks volumes to me: this person has got their shit worked out. They know what they like and value and that comes through in every little corner of their lives. It’s something I’ve always distinctly associated with being a grownup, that thing I’ve dreamt of since I was a little girl.
This post is accompanied by sunsets and sunrises just because.
I suffered a lot from I want to be a grownup syndrome when I was younger. Suffered hard. I wish I knew where it stemmed from, why it started. I wish I’d enjoyed being a child more, enjoyed the simple freedom and innocence of that time.
But in reality, I was dreaming about becoming an adult already when I was about ten. I watched the older girls at school and women out and about and my sister and her friends and just wished. They had their flats and their glasses of wine with friends and their bills and their grocery shopping and their jobs and their boyfriends who could stay over whenever and their nights out… So much adulting that I wanted to be a part of right now.
This is a long post because it’s something that’s really changed me and that I feel deserves an essay. It’s also another excuse for writing a list, and I love lists. But if you’re short for time, the tl;dr version is at the bottom. Also, there’s lots of swearing in this.
I’m a born fuck-giver. Maybe you are too. As a self-described overachieving perfectionist, I gave my fucks liberally all throughout my childhood and adolescence. […] This was no way to live.”
This could be written by me. I’m an over-thinker. I attribute it to having a stupidly wild imagination, one I’ve been overwhelmed with since I was a little girl. From imagining there were snakes in my bed, to imagining I had a dog for a whole year, to imagining I was actually twins with my sister who’s 21 years older than me… You name it, I imagined it.