The dreaded paranoia the next day is 100 times worse than the dehydration headache. The difference between 3 am you, telling everyone in The Cut that you loved them, and 11 am you, wondering if you could flush your head down the toilet to avoid thinking about everything you’ve ever said to anyone, is big enough to make anyone want to go sober. Count yourself lucky if you happen to wake up surrounded by your closest friends, who you can share anxieties with and later laugh about.
Even in the winter. If you’re going outside, wear SPF.
Your love for them will stay the same, but the structure, predictability, and intimacy of any friendship will always continue to change.
By breaking parts of yourself off and giving them away to so many different people, you’re losing so much of yourself, when in reality, no one is asking or expecting you to do so.
If you buy enough lamps, you will never have to turn the big light on again. Also, fake candles are your best friend.
When you love a film, a singer, a hobby, etc. and a friend doesn’t. If they continuously make you feel bad for liking something then they are the problem, not you or what you’re passionate about.
The cause of many existential crises. There is little point to anything, and you’re moving out of the ‘when I grow up’ phase to actually being grown up. But you still carry on. You get annoyed when a TV show is cancelled, or clothes come out of the dryer still damp. You find joy in little things like the smell of fresh bedding, learning a new recipe, or seeing your friends at home when you return for Summer. You have complete control over your life now, and no one is going to stop you from going to Greggs at 2 am in your pyjamas. Adult life is both mundane and magical and serious and silly.
Or their hair. Or their shoes. It’s how I made 90% of my friends at university and I’m not exaggerating. It’s an easy way to start a conversation if you’re feeling out of your depth.
The societal belief that you can never be thin enough is embedded in everything, from the TV show you watch every night to the “one size fits all” clothes at Brandy Melville. You’ll be told that a dress looks “flattering” on you, that a fringe suits your forehead, that a pair of jeans makes you look taller, the best pose to hide your hip dips, and the best hair colour for your skin tone.
It’s okay to not associate with the person you were a year ago, but still take part in activities that heal your inner child. Buy yourself that teddy, watch Scooby-Doo, and decorate your notebook with glittery stickers.
The teacher that you admired. The cup of tea you just drank. The New Year’s resolutions you set yourself in 2019. That thing your aunt said about your body when you tried on that dress in 2015. The way your friends hug you tightly. The flowers you buy for yourself. It can be incredibly helpful to acknowledge all of these things and comb through your past to understand more about yourself.