Different Kinds of Whimsy

Happy saturday afternoon, dear readers!

I have been thinking about whimsy again.

This is probably not surprising if you have been around here for a while. I have a tendency to take a perfectly normal concept, stare at it for long enough, and eventually turn it into some kind of personal theory.

Whimsy has been one of those concepts.

I think we have gotten very used to thinking of whimsy as an aesthetic. You know the look probably by now. Whimsy is sort of a buzz word at this point and I am have found myself treating it as such. Little bows, mushrooms, vintage toys, fairy wings, cottage gardens, colorful clothes, old books, tiny teacups, maybe a basket involved somewhere. It’s very appealing (and marketable… but we don’t have time to go down that rabbit hole right now).

And I love all of those things by the way! Nothing wrong with each of these items listed by themselves.

But I think we should start thinking that whimsy is much bigger than how something looks because that idea can treat whimsy like a product that you can buy. Which is sort of anti-whimsy in of itself?

I don’t think whimsical people necessarily dress whimsically. I don’t think you need a cottagecore bedroom or a collection of antique teacups to be whimsical. I don’t even think you need to be particularly bubbly or cheerful.

I think whimsy is more about how you relate to the world.

And because apparently I cannot leave a thought alone once I have had it, I started thinking about the different ways people experience whimsy and that little spark of oh! This is fun!

So, welcome to my extremely unofficial theory of Whimsy Sources.

What even is whimsy?

For me, whimsy is the ability to find something delightful, interesting, playful, beautiful, strange, or meaningful in the ordinary world.

It could look like deciding that your coffee shop trip is an adventure and recording it in a journal. It could be making pancakes for dinner because you can and pancakes are kind of peak. Throw some whipped cream on it for good measure while you’re at it. Sprinkles for aesthetics. Or could be deciding to watch every single Disney Fairy movie and ranking them.

None of these things are particularly revolutionary. That is kind of the point.

And I think different people arrive at that feeling through different doors.

1. Nature Whimsy

Nature whimsy comes from finding magic in the natural world.

These are the people who stop to look at a weird mushroom. They notice birds and they collect rocks. They like walking through forests, watching storms, growing plants, looking for frogs, or sitting outside without necessarily having a productive reason for doing so.

Nature whimsy is basically the realization that the world is already full of fun weird little things.

You don’t have to decorate your house like an enchanted forest. You can actually just go outside and pay attention.

There is something wonderfully whimsical about realizing that a tiny beetle has been living its entire little beetle life under the same log.

2. Nostalgic Whimsy

Nostalgic whimsy comes from remembering.

Maybe you still love the toys you played with as a kid or you watch old cartoons. Maybe you collect things that remind you of childhood. This kind of whimsy is interested in the past, especially the little things that made life feel magical when you were younger.

In fact, I think there is something really beautiful about growing up while intentionally deciding which parts of childhood you want to carry with you.

You can pay your bills and still love Strawberry Shortcake, I promise. You can become an adult without deciding that everything you loved when you were eight was embarrassing. In fact, eight year old you was onto something.

Maturing is good.

You don’t have to throw away your sense of wonder in the process.

3. Storybook Whimsy

Storybook whimsy comes from seeing life through stories.

These are the people who give meaning to little moments. They journal. They write poetry. They love fairy tales. They imagine the history of an old building. They make traditions. They give names to things.

Storybook whimsy is probably the type I relate to most naturally because I am a writer. I love making up things and adding onto the huge world in my head that I’ve had since I was 11 years old.

4. Creative Whimsy

Creative whimsy comes from making things.

This can be painting, writing, crafting, baking, sewing, decorating, building, photography, music, or any other form of creative expression. And then you make it of course! (this can be a hard step if you’re perfectionist but I encourage you to give it try! It doesn’t have to be perfect! Just make!!)

I think this is one of the most sustainable forms of whimsy because you don’t necessarily need to buy anything.

You can take scraps of paper and make a tiny collage for exmaple. Or paint something that you normally wouldn’t think to paint. You can make something simply because you thought it would be interesting or fun.

There is something very whimsical about being a person who makes things.

5. Curious Whimsy

Curious whimsy is probably the easiest one to accidentally overlook.

It is the joy of finding things out.

These are the people who wander through museums. They love antique stores. They go down Wikipedia rabbit holes. And they ask questions. They want to know what that weird object is, why a building was designed that way, what a particular bird is called, or how something works. They’re very answer oriented. They want to find out more!

Curiosity is inherently whimsical to me because the world is incredibly strange when you actually pay attention to it. There are thousands of things around us that we simply don’t notice because we have gotten used to them.

Curiosity brings back that feeling of “Wait, what is that?”

6. Playful Whimsy

Playful whimsy is about, well, playing.

Games. Costumes. Silly traditions. Themed dinners. Pillow forts. Dancing to Barbie’s Princes and the Pauper Songs. Making up ridiculous challenges with your friends. Turning a normal outing into an adventure.

This kind of whimsy asks a very simple question:

“Why not?”

It’s the realization of free will in a sense.

Why not have a themed dinner? Why not dress up? Or make up a ridiculous tradition that only your friend group understands?

There are so many things adults stop doing simply because they have decided they are too old for them. Playful whimsy says maybe you don’t have to be and you can continue to make things up just because! Because why not??

7. Domestic Whimsy

Domestic whimsy is probably the quietest kind.

It is finding magic in ordinary life at home.

Baking something. Lighting candles all over the house to make it feel special. Decorating for the seasons. Making Sunday morning feel different from Monday morning by drinking out of your “Sunday Mug”. Or something like putting flowers on the table even though nobody is coming over.

Domestic whimsy focuses on realizing that your life does not have to be extraordinary to be meaningful and eventing little routines or habits that help with that.

You can have more than one

People I don’t think people fit neatly into one category. We often get inspiration and creativity and joy for many different places. These are not personality types or anything of that nature (I try to stay away from theories that are personality types. I don’t know enough about people to “categorize” them, plus it’s very hard to do accurately.)

They are more like sources of wonder.

Someone might be heavily nostalgic and creative. Someone else might be nature-oriented and curious. Someone might be deeply domestic but also extremely playful.

You could even have a combination like:

Nature + Curious + Storybook

Someone who likes hiking, learning about plants, and imagining the history of the places they explore.

Or:

Nostalgic + Creative + Playful

Someone who loves childhood media, makes things inspired by it, and enjoys turning ordinary gatherings into themed events.

Or:

Domestic + Storybook + Nature

Someone who loves gardening, seasonal traditions, baking, journaling, and making their home feel like a little story.

Whimsy vs. Escapism

This is probably the part of the theory I care about the most because I think whimsy can sometimes get confused with escapism. I also want to add, I don’t think escapism is inherently bad either but I do feel they are seperate things. Sometimes you need to watch a comfort show after a horrible day or, if you’re like me you need to play a video game for six hours and temporarily stop thinking about your responsibilities. Escapism in these scenarios feels healthy normal and, on certain days, neccessary.

We all need rest.

But Whimsy says:

“I wonder what’s interesting about being here.”

That distinction matters to me.

Whimsy doesn’t necessarily ask you to escape reality. It asks you to look at reality differently.

A walk becomes an adventure or a rainy day becomes an excuse to read. And one of my favorites, your garden becomes a tiny ecosystem worth observing. It is important to note that You aren’t necessarily trying to create a fantasy world because your real one isn’t good enough.

You’re finding the little pieces of magic that were already there.

And I think that can be a much healthier relationship with imagination.

Instead of constantly thinking, “I wish I lived somewhere else,” you start asking, “How can I make the life I have more interesting, meaningful, beautiful, or fun?”

That doesn’t mean you should ignore problems or pretend everything is wonderful.

Sometimes your life genuinely isn’t wonderful.

But I do think there is something powerful about learning to find joy inside reality anyway.

Maybe whimsy is a skill

This is where I have landed with all of this at the end of this thought exercise if you will. I don’t think whimsy is something you either naturally have or don’t have thought someone might naturally be more “imaginative” than other poeple. But I do think it can be cultivated. You can pick up an old hobby. You can create traditions. You can read stories and you can journal. And very importantly, you can let yourself be interested in things without needing them to be productive.

And that is what I mean when I talk about being a whimsical person..

Because adulthood asks us to become responsible, practical, productive people. And those things are good by the way!But I don’t think becoming an adult requires becoming completely disenchanted with the world. Maybe we can have careers and make things just for fun.

We don’t have to choose one thing.

What Kind of Friend Are You? Introducing My Friendship Animal Theory 🐕🐻🐍

I have a new internet project! But then again, don’t I always?

Well, technically I have had this internet project for a little while now, but I have finally given it a proper home.

I started a TikTok called Whimsy Theories, which is basically a place for me to take the random systems and theories that my brain comes up with and turn them into something other people can actually think about.

You may have seen my Fantasy Style Theory post, where I divide aesthetics into seven fantasy archetypes: Princess, Goblin, Knight, Wizard, Dragon, Mermaid, and Angel. That one is probably my favorite I’ve ever come with but it is definitely not the last. That theory started with me thinking about fashion and eventually turned into a whole little world of archetypes, combinations, modifiers, and aesthetics.

Then I moved onto another fun little theory except this one focuses on friend types.

And that is how I ended up developing the Friendship Animal Theory.

To preface, it is loosely inspired by the Six Besties Theory by Alexandra Hayes (You can check out more of her work HERE, I especially enjoy her podcast on youtube which is a delightful advice column.)

So What Is Friendship Animal Theory (The Friendship Bestiary)?

The basic idea is pretty simple:

Different people tend to fall into different roles and dynamics within their friendships.

Not personality types. And, importantly, Not permanent identities. Not “you are a Hound and therefore you behave this way in every relationship.” Instead, these animals describe the role you tend to take on within a particular friendship or friend group.

You might be a Hound with one person and a Bear with another. Or you might have a very different dynamic with your childhood best friend than you do with your coworkers or your newest friend. And I think that is part of what makes this more interesting than a traditional personality quiz or something akin to that.

Friendships bring out different versions of us.

You might be extremely independent in most areas of your life but become incredibly loyal and sentimental with your oldest friends. Or you might be the responsible one at work but the absolute chaos goblin of your friend group.

The question isn’t necessarily “Which animal am I?” though I will add, that if you are one type of friend, there is a higher chance that that tends to be a role you have in other relationships in your life. These are relationship patterns that can be consistent but definitely aren’t the hard rule for how you relate to people. The idea is that friendships aren’t just collections of individual personalities. They’re little ecosystems.

And in an ecosystem, different creatures interact with each other.

Some relationships are nurturing. Some are protective. Some are complicated. Some become unhealthy. Some change completely over time.

Ask yourself: What kind of ecosystem are you creating together, you and your friends?

Sheesh that was a lot of yapping. Are we ready to talk about the actual theory now? I hope so, because here we go!

The Core Friendship Creatures

The first group contains the creatures that represent healthy or generally constructive friendship dynamics.

These are the Bear, Fox, Frog, Owl, Magpie, Rabbit, and Whale.

🦊 The Fox: Mischief & Adventure

The Fox is the friend who makes life more interesting. Their core, if you will, is mischief and adventure.

They are the person who says:

“Okay, but what if we just went?”

Fox friendships thrive on experiences and Exploring somewhere you’ve never been. Sometimes even trying something ridiculous. The Fox brings movement and curiosity into a friendship. They’re your spontaneous friend.

They’re often the reason a perfectly ordinary afternoon turns into a story you tell six months later.

The Fox reminds us that friendship isn’t only about emotional support. Sometimes friendship is about having something to remember and experiencing stuff together!

🐸 The Frog: Silliness & Humor

The Frog is the friend who makes you laugh.

Their core is silliness and humor.

Frog friendships are full of inside jokes, ridiculous conversations, funny voices, memes, terrible ideas, and laughing at things that absolutely should not be that funny. The Frog is also the friend who can make an ordinary day feel lighter.

They remind us that friendship doesn’t always have to be profound. Sometimes the most meaningful thing someone can give you is an hour where you forgot about everything bothering you because you were laughing so hard that you both cannot even breathe anymore. Truly healing.

The Frog brings fun into friendship.

🦉 The Owl: Wisdom & Perspective

The Owl is the friend you go to when you need perspective.

Their core is wisdom and perspective.

The Owl can help you step outside your immediate emotions and look at the bigger picture. They’re the friend who listens to the entire story before responding. Or they might ask the question you hadn’t considered. Or they might even gently point out that the situation you are currently convinced is the end of the world probably isn’t. We need these people badly in our lives to often ground us.

The Owl doesn’t necessarily solve your problems.

Sometimes they just help you see them differently.

🐕 The Hound: Loyalty

The Hound is the loyal friend.

So, as you could probably guess, their core is loyalty.

The Hound remembers who their people are. They do this by showing up. They check in. And they ALWAYS notice when someone is missing. They care about maintaining the bond.

The Hound’s love often looks like consistency.

It’s the feeling of:

“I’m still here.”

🐻 The Bear: Protection

The Bear is the protector.

Their core is protection.

This is the friend who wants to make sure you’re okay. They might walk you to your car or defend you when someone treats you badly. Sometimes they might bring you food when you’re sick or help you through a difficult situation without needing to be asked. They want to help, at the end of the day, and make sure you’re OK.

The Bear’s instinct is:

“Let me take care of you.”

At its healthiest, this is a beautiful form of friendship.

The Bear reminds people that they don’t have to handle everything alone. Sometimes you really do need someone willing to stand beside you.

🪶 The Magpie: Thoughtfulness, Sharing & Connection

The Magpie is one of my favorites because their friendship language is thoughtfulness.

Magpies notice little things. They always remember what you like. They are the kind of friends to see something in a store and think, “Oh my gosh, Brooke would love this.” Or they might send you a picture because it reminded them of you. They LOVE to give gifts and share things.

They collect little pieces of life and bring them back to the people they love.

The Magpie is about connection through thoughtfulness.

It isn’t necessarily about expensive gifts or grand gestures either. It can be as small as a snack you mentioned wanting to try or A funny rock you found on a walk. A common gesture is a book recommendation. Some days it’s just a message that says, “I saw this and thought of you.”

The Magpie says to their friends:

“I saw this and thought of you!”

🐇 The Rabbit: Encouragement & Enthusiasm

The Rabbit is the friend who gets excited with you.

Their core is encouragement and enthusiasm which makes them very fun to tell good news.

You tell them you want to start painting? They’re excited.

You tell them you got a new job?

They’re excited.

You have a weird little hobby you’ve become obsessed with?

They’re asking questions.

You want to try something you’ve never done before?

They’re probably already cheering you on.

The Rabbit helps other people believe in themselves.

They celebrate their friends’ victories, including the tiny ones.

They’re the:

“YOU DID IT!!!”

friend.

The Rabbit reminds us that encouragement is its own form of love. Sometimes you don’t need someone to give you advice. You just need someone who is genuinely excited that you are excited. They are the cheerleader friend and are amazing for it.

🐋 The Whale: Depth & Emotional Intimacy

The Whale is the deep friend.

Their core is depth and emotional intimacy.

Whale friendships often involve long conversations, vulnerability, shared history, and the feeling that someone really understands you.

You can talk about your childhood. Your fears. Your dreams. Or even your weird philosophical thoughts at 1 AM.

The Whale creates a sense of emotional depth but this doesn’t necessarily mean you have to talk constantly.

A Whale friendship can be quiet or even a long distance friend. It can be the person you haven’t seen in months but somehow pick up with immediately.

The important thing is that there is depth underneath the relationship. The roots go deep.

And Then There Are the Disruptive Creatures

Not every friendship dynamic is healthy. And sometimes, even perfectly good friendships can develop unhealthy patterns. That’s where this second category of dynamics and creatures come in.

These creatures aren’t meant to mean “bad people.” They describe behaviors that can disrupt a friendship ecosystem. And importantly, you can sometimes fall into one of these dynamics without being a fundamentally bad friend. Ouch, reflection. I am not always a fan of this but who is. But because of this, the disruptive creatures can be helpful in identifying the pitfalls we fall into, especially among certain friends and friendgroups. For example, I may fancy myself the hound friend because I’m soooo loyal but I can also be a spider or wolf where I can depend on people too much and have an “everyone else sucks” attitude.

Alright, I’ll chill with the examples since we need to go a little more in depth with these…

🕷️ The Spider: Entanglement & Dependency

The Spider represents entanglement and dependency.

This is when two people become so wrapped up in each other that the boundaries of the friendship start disappearing.

You may feel responsible for the other person’s emotions or you may struggle to do things independently. In some of my experiences, I felt like I had to constantly be available.

The friendship can become a web. The closer you get, the harder it becomes to move freely. This dynamic is combatted by the reminder that Healthy closeness still leaves room for two people to be separate individuals.

🐍 The Viper: Resentment & Criticism

The Viper represents resentment and criticism. Double ouch.

This is what happens when frustration starts accumulating underneath a friendship. Instead of talking about what’s wrong, you become increasingly critical. I know for sure, this is a dynamic that I have partipcated in.

Little things start irritating you. You keep score. You notice everything the other person does wrong. Eventually, the friendship can become full of little bites. And the difficult thing about the Viper is that resentment often doesn’t appear out of nowhere. There may actually be a real problem underneath it that should probably be addressed with apologies all around. The issue is that instead of addressing the problem directly, the resentment starts leaking out through criticism or quiet resenment towards the other party.

🐺 The Wolf: Isolation & “Us vs. Them”

The Wolf represents isolation and an “us versus them” mentality.

This is the dynamic where a friendship or friend group becomes increasingly closed off. There is 100% an inner circle and it is not open to the public, I assure you! There are outsiders.

And eventually, being loyal to the group can start meaning distancing yourself from everyone else. The Wolf isn’t simply having a close friend group. Close groups can be wonderful! But the real problem arises when closeness requires exclusion.

When “we’re close” becomes “we’re against them.”

🦅 The Hawk: Domination, Superiority & Competition

The Hawk represents domination, superiority, and competition.

This is the friendship where someone starts trying to establish themselves above everyone else.

Who knows more? Who is more successful? Who has more friends? Who is more attractive? Who is the leader?

The relationship stops feeling collaborative and starts feeling like a hierarchy.

The Hawk doesn’t necessarily have to be loud and domineering in an obvious way. Sometimes superiority is subtle. It can look like constantly correcting people, one-upping stories, competing over achievements, or needing to feel like the most important person in the room.

The Hawk can be combatted by the concept that friendship isn’t supposed to be a scoreboard.

🪱 The Leech: One-Sidedness

The Leech represents one-sided friendship.

One person gives and the other takes. And takes. And takes…

One person always listens. One person always needs help.

One person makes the plans. One person always has an excuse.

Of course, friendships aren’t perfectly equal every single day. Sometimes one person needs more support especially during difficult life phases. Sometimes someone is going through a difficult season and that’s all there is to it.

The Leech dynamic happens when the imbalance becomes the relationship.

There is no real reciprocity.

One person keeps pouring into the friendship while the other keeps consuming it. Signs you may be dealing with this is a constant drain from a friendship.

🦜 The Parrot: Gossip & Carrying Information

The Parrot represents gossip and carrying information between people. Oh boy, this is gonna be fun…

This is the friend who always knows something. And more importantly, always seems to have something to tell someone else.

“Well, she told me…”

“Apparently he said…”

“Don’t tell anyone I told you this…”

The Parrot can become the communication highway between different parts of a friend group. Information travels. Then Secrets travel. Comments get repeated that probably shouldn’t be. And then things get taken out of context. And suddenly everyone knows things they probably shouldn’t know and everyone is upset while the Parrot might shrug and think they’re simply a nuetral third party.

The Parrot dynamic reminds us that information is part of relationship trust.

Just because someone told you something doesn’t mean it was yours to pass along.

Principals

The Species Principle

The first rule of the theory is something I call the Species Principle.

And it is probably the most important one.

People are not species. Relationships are ecosystems.

You aren’t simply a Bear Friend™ who behaves like a Bear in every relationship you have.

You might be a Bear with your little sister, a Magpie with your best friend, and an Owl with a coworker you have slowly become friends with.

The creature describes the dynamic, not the person. This is why I don’t really think of the theory as a personality test (sorry if I keep repeating myself). The same person can behave completely differently depending on who they are with and I think that’s normal. That’s what makes people so layered and complicated sometimes, so it’s no wonder our friendships can ALSO be layered and complicated at times.

The Mirror Principle

We don’t just bring our own behavior into friendships.

We respond to each other.

A friend who makes you feel safe might bring out a more vulnerable side of you. And A friend who is constantly critical might make you defensive (naturally). A friend who is silly might bring out your own silliness.

Please don’t take this to mean other people are responsible for our behavior. It means relationships are interactive. You affect the ecosystem, and the ecosystem affects you. That’s why I don’t think these creatures should be treated like permanent identities.

Which leads into the Combo Principle!

The Combo Principle

Most people are combinations.

You might be a Hound + Magpie with one friend.

You’re deeply loyal to them, but you also love remembering little things about them, giving them gifts, and collecting memories together.

Or maybe you’re a Fox + Frog.

Every time you get together, something ridiculous happens, and you are usually the person who suggested the adventure in the first place.

Maybe you’re an Owl + Whale, where your friendship revolves around deep conversations and understanding each other.

The combinations are endless. And honestly, I think combinations are probably more representative of real friendships than trying to force everyone into one a rigid and hyperspecific category or animal.

The Transformation Principle

One of the most important ideas in this theory is that creatures can change.

A friendship isn’t frozen.

A Hound can become a Viper when loyalty turns into resentment. A Whale can become a Spider when emotional intimacy turns into dependency. Remember friends, the positive and disruptive creatures aren’t completely separate worlds. There are cases where the unhealthy dynamic is simply a healthy instinct that has been pushed too far.

That’s why I don’t want people to try and use these animals as permanent labels. They’re more useful as warning signs and lenses and probably best used in hindsight or reflecting, especially in cases where we may be in the wrong!

The Impermanence Principle

The final principle is that friendship ecosystems are temporary and changing.

People change. You change too actually even though you may not feel it.

People move, get new jobs, get married…

You discover new interests. You go through difficult seasons. Sometimes friendships grow stronger and sadly but realistically, sometimes they become more distant. And though I hate it when this happens, sometimes a person who was once central to your life becomes someone you see once every few years. It hurts but it is part of life. To quote the Ratitouille movie by Pixar, “Change is Nature”.

That doesn’t necessarily erase what the friendship meant. Some relationships belong to a particular season of life and, miraculously and amazingly, some evolve with you.

And Some end.

And that’s okay.

An ecosystem isn’t supposed to stay exactly the same forever.

Possible Additions to the Theory…

I do have a two additions I’ve considered for this theory…

I’m unsure how to add them though as they truly do feel like “nuetral” creatures that describe a specific type of relationship in people’s lives. So I’ll let you leave your thoughts on these in the comments.

The Cat 🐈

The Cat represents independence. I know, shocker.

This is the friend who loves their people but also really likes having their own little world. They might disappear into a hobby for three days. They probably are also very low maintence and do not need constant texting.

They can spend time alone without interpreting it as loneliness. And they generally don’t need their friendships to consume their entire life.

A healthy Cat understands that closeness and independence can coexist. You can love someone deeply and still have your own life.

🦋 The Moth: Rekindled Friendship

The Moth represents the rekindled friendship.

This is the friend you find your way back to.

Maybe you were inseparable in high school and then life pulled you in completely different directions. Maybe you had a falling out. Maybe you simply lost touch. Maybe years passed without either of you realizing quite how long it had been. And then, somehow, magically, you find each other again. There is something very moth-like about this kind of friendship and I love it. You may have wandered away from the light for a while, but eventually you find your way back.

A rekindled friendship doesn’t necessarily become exactly what it was before. Sometimes you discover that you have both changed too much for that. Instead, you get the strange and wonderful experience of meeting an old friend again as the people you’ve become.

The best Moth friendships don’t try to recreate the past. They make something new and good.

There is usually a little nostalgia involved. Old jokes come back. You remember things you had completely forgotten. You find yourself saying, “Oh my gosh, remember when…” But there is also a new layer to the friendship because you are no longer the same people who knew each other the first time around.

The Moth relationship can remind us that distance doesn’t always mean complete disappearance or even means the end of something.

Some friendships go quiet for a season and still have enough warmth left to be rekindled. These cases are rare but they’re oh-so-beautiful when they occur. You are truly blessed if you have a moth friendship.

So What Creature Are You?

Maybe the answer isn’t one creature. Most people aren’t to be completely honest with you. I’d be shocked otherwise.

Maybe you’re a Hound + Magpie with your oldest friend.

A Fox + Frog with your adventure buddy.

An Owl + Whale with the person you have all your deep conversations with.

A Rabbit + Magpie with the friend you are constantly encouraging and surprising with little gifts.

And maybe there are certain dynamics you’re trying to move away from.

Maybe you’ve noticed some Viper creeping into a friendship because you’ve been holding onto resentment. Or you’ve been slipping into Parrot behavior by carrying information between friends. It’s so easy sometimes, I’m sure. Especially among certain crowds and groups.

That is what I actually want this theory to be useful for. Not putting yourself into a very specific box with parameters and DEFINITELY not deciding that someone is a “bad friend” because they fit an animal. I would also add to not treat these as permanent personality types. Instead, I want them to give us a fun little language for talking about something that is actually pretty complicated:

the ecosystems we create with other people.

Because friendships are weird and nuanced.

Sometimes you’re the one bringing little gifts or encouraging people. There friend groups with which we’re the “class clown”. There are days where we’re the enourageer. And sometimes, if we’re being honest, we’re the one who needs to take a step back and ask ourselves what we’re contributing to the ecosystem. Which is probably why I like this theory so much.

It gives us a way to look at friendship without reducing people to personality types.

We’re not species. Our relationships are ecosystems (hit me if I say this again lol.)

And apparently I am going to keep making theories about them.

Stay tuned everyone and thank you for sticking around and getting through this so very long post!

Byeeee!

My Fantasy-Inspired Style Theory

Happy July afternoon, dear readers!

Lately, I have fallen down a very specific rabbit hole.

And by rabbit hole, I mean the kind where you open Pinterest to find outfit inspiration and suddenly you are three hours deep analyzing whether a dress belongs to your woodland fairy Pinterest board, an enchanted princess board, or a wizard board.

(As one does.)

I have always been fascinated by personal style. Not just trends or what is popular, but the deeper question behind style:

Why are we drawn to the things we are drawn to? Why do certain outfits, rooms, colors, and objects immediately feel like “us”? Why can two people wear the same trend but somehow look like they belong to completely different aesthetics or have totally different vibes?

Recently, I came across Ellie Jean’s Style Theory and I was immediately intrigued.

I really loved the idea behind it: that personal style is not just about finding clothes that look good, but about understanding the patterns behind what we naturally gravitate toward.

I like to think that style is storytelling. Our closets, homes, and Pinterest boards are often little collections of the worlds we wish we belonged to.

However, while I really appreciated Ellie Jean’s theory, I never fully found myself fitting into it. Not because I thought it was wrong or anything, just to be clear. Actually, I think it is a really creative and thoughtful way to approach style. But I realized that my brain approaches aesthetics a little differently and has a bit of a different lean. I don’t just look at an outfit and think, “I like that dress.”

My brain immediately goes:

“That looks like a fairy’s ball gown!”

“That looks like a Wizard’s casual fit.”

“If I were a knight, I would wear THAT.”

(Yes, this is how my brain works. No, I cannot turn it off.)

I realized that I didn’t just connect with style through categories. I connected with style through stories. Specifically, fantastical creatures and characters that are associated with these stories that we often see in popular media. And that is where my fantasy-inspired style theory came from.


The Fantasy Style Theory

The idea is simple:

Your personal style can be understood through seven fantasy archetypes.

These archetypes are not meant to tell you who you are as a person. They are not necessarily personality tests. Instead, they are a fun way to describe the themes, feelings, and imagery that you are naturally drawn toward.

The seven primary archetypes are:

👑 Princess — Beauty

The Princess is drawn to elegance, romance, softness, and things that feel special.

🌿 Goblin — Nature

The Goblin loves the organic, handmade, collected, and earthy.

🛡 Knight — Structure

The Knight values craftsmanship, practicality, order, and strength.

🔮 Wizard — Wonder

The Wizard is curious, imaginative, and drawn toward mystery, knowledge, and magic.

🐉 Dragon — Power

The Dragon embraces confidence, intensity, drama, and richness.

🧜 Mermaid — Flow

The Mermaid loves movement, elegance, emotion, and things connected to water.

😇 Angel — Peace

The Angel is drawn toward serenity, harmony, spirituality, and lightness.

Rule One: Primary Archetypes

Most people will not fit into only one archetype. Actually, I think the fun comes from mixing them together.

Maybe you are mostly Princess with a little Wizard. Maybe you are a Goblin who loves Knight structure. Maybe you are even a Dragon who secretly loves soft Angel details.

Your style is a recipe in a sense. And these seven main archetypes are the ingredients. Now, onto rule number TWO!

Rule Two: Child Archetypes

When two archetypes combine, they create a new expression.

Examples:

👑 Princess + 🌿 Goblin = Fairy

👑 Princess + 🔮 Wizard = Enchantress

🌿 Goblin + 🔮 Wizard = Druid

🛡 Knight + 😇 Angel = Paladin

🔮 Wizard + 🧜 Mermaid = Sea Witch

These combinations create smaller aesthetics that blend the qualities of both archetypes.

Rule Three: Major Aesthetics

When three archetypes combine, they create even more specific aesthetics.

Examples:

👑 Princess + 🧜 Mermaid + 😇 Angel = Venus

🌿 Goblin + 🔮 Wizard + 😇 Angel = Cottagecore

🛡 Knight + 🧜 Mermaid + 🐉 Dragon = Lighthouse Keeper

👑 Princess + 🔮 Wizard + 😇 Angel = The King’s Seer

These combinations are where the storytelling really starts to happen. You can also go HIGHLY specific from here.

Rule Four: Emphasis Matters

This is one of the most important rules. The recipe matters, but the proportions matter too (Just like with baking!).

Two people can have the same archetypes and create completely different aesthetics depending on what they emphasize.

For example:

🌿 Goblin + 🛡 Knight + 😇 Angel

With more Angel:
A peaceful pilgrim aesthetic. Soft, simple, spiritual, serene.

With more Knight:
A forest guardian aesthetic. Practical, protective, structured.

With more Goblin:
A woodland caretaker aesthetic. Earthy, handmade, collected.

Same ingredients, but you can end up with a totally different “flavor”.

Rule Five: Modifiers

Sometimes someone resonates with more than three archetypes.

Those extra archetypes become modifiers. It is important to note, however, that modifiers do not replace your main aesthetic. They add another fun little layer to the overall aesthetic.

For example:

A Princess + Wizard + Angel might be a King’s Seer.

Add a Dragon modifier, and suddenly the aesthetic becomes richer, darker, and more mysterious.

Add a Goblin modifier, and it becomes more nature-focused and earthy.

Think of modifiers like adding spices to a recipe. (Yes, I know I keep comparing style to cooking. I stand by it. Also, I’m not a great baker so let me have this.)

Rule Six: Distillations

Each archetype also has a pure expression. (Still workshopping these tbh)

👑 Princess → Muse

🌿 Goblin → Forager

🛡 Knight → Champion

🔮 Wizard → Alchemist

🐉 Dragon → Sovereign or Empress

🧜 Mermaid → Tidekeeper or Leviathan (Still thinking about this one)

😇 Angel → Saint

These are the strongest expressions of each individual archetype.

The Purpose of the Theory

At the end of the day, this is not about putting yourself into a box. I want it to be about giving yourself more language to understand what you already love. You can be a Princess who wears combat boots, A Knight who loves pink, A Dragon who collects flowers, and even a Wizard who lives in a cottage.

The point is not to follow the rules. Or box youself into a highly specific category. The point is to discover the story you are already telling.

Because, in this theory, personal style is not just about what we wear. Maybe it is about tapping into the little fantasy world we create around ourselves. Pretty cool, huh?

ANYWAYS, sorry for the info dump, and thank you for making it all the way through this post. Feel free to leave your thoughts below!

The Winter Yuck and How to Not Rot Entirely during Winter

This is something I’m half writing for myself. Let me set the stage for you real quick.

It’s January. I’m snowed in. The Holidays are done and over with, and I am more than a little antsy. My weekend has left me bored and stagnant, as I’ve been trapped at home for far too long. While some might think this would be a WONDERFUL time to catch up on the long-dead hobbies and creative endeavors that I’ve left at the wayside of life due to busy-ness, I have found this time not so…constructive nor productive. Why, you might ask? It’s simple… I’ve got a case of Winter Yuck.

I am so so so ready for spring. It gets dark early. It’s nasty outside. When I get home from work, I just want to eat, watch tv, and hit the hay early. I am anything but motivated. Perhaps it’s the perpetually gray sky? Or perhaps it’s the inability to go outside for a refreshing walk, but regardless, the result is the same. I am doing a whole lot of nothing.

So, I’ve written a little guide for myself to follow as spring slowly creeps ever closer. Maybe you need it too?

First, bullet point number one….

Don’t go to bed immediately. Try to stay up and enjoy something. This could be reading a mere 5 pages of a book or popping popcorn and watching a new movie. Just do something that you can tell your friends that you did with your evening. One redeeming thing is all it takes. Then you can go to bed.

Bullet point number two is in regards to your writing…

If you find yourself absolutely hollow creatively, maybe put a pause on the self-induced guilt trip, and try consuming writing instead. This still contributes to your growth as a writer. It is so so important that you read and engage with other creative voices, and it’s a little more pasisve and requires less energy than creating the work itself.

My other tip in regards to your winter writing slump, is to do something ELSE creative. Not writing related but still creative. Writing is creativity + words. When you read, you’re still developing the WORDS part of that equation. When you’re doing another creative hobby, you’re developing the CREATIVE part. Still progress, friends. It still counts.

Bullet point number three…

If it’s miserable outside, try to get up and move around your house. You can do this by cleaning or taking a quick shower. Sometimes this is all it takes to get you out of hibernation mode. If not, then at least you or your house its clean. Time to go to bed,

And Finally…

Be easy on yourself. Winter sucks. I get it. It’s my least favorite season, too. I’m a plant at heart. I need sunshine. But spring will come again soon, just hang in there.

It’s at the point that I’m going to insert a master list of winter-friendly creative tasks, divided into low-energy to medium-energy. Maybe give it a skim if you find yourself at a loss for what to do with your life right now. Some of these are even winter-unique so perhaps you can find a bright spot in all this gray!

Please note, I tried to make these activities have a bit more of a whimsical spin. You can scroll Pinterest for your more generic “learn to crochet” type activities. I am by no means going to preach the benefits of scrapbooking either. Here are just some out-of-left-field but fun things you can do to try and prevent yourself from succumbing to winter-induced brain rot. Take what you want and leave what you want.

Low-Energy (Bed, Couch, or Chair by a Window Activities)

  • Re-title your life as if it were a novel
    Write five alternative titles. Bonus points if one sounds vaguely Victorian or mildly tragic. The modern version of this is title your life like it’s a show and divide your life into “seasons”. Who would the characters be?
  • Make a “things that felt important this winter” inventory
    Include tiny things: a mug, a song you played on repeat, a phrase you overheard. This can help you try and find some creative meaning in the midst of a not-so-fun or colorful season.
  • Annotate your own memories
    Pick one small memory and write footnotes explaining what you didn’t realize at the time. Kind of like journaling but shorter and more focused.
  • Create a winter alter ego
    Give her a name, a coat, a favorite hot drink, and one quirky habit or interest.
  • Transcribe comfort
    Handwrite a poem, passage of scripture, recipe, or letter that steadies you. No analysis. Just copying as a means to meditate or collect.
  • Design a room you’ll never have
    Describe it in words only. Light, textures, where the chair sits. No Pinterest allowed.
  • Write extremely short letters you will never send
    To: the moon, your childhood bedroom, the version of you who thought 2020 was the year (oof. Sorry, girl).
  • Make a list called “Things Winter Is Good At”
    Keep it humble. Dusk. Soup. Long shadows at 4:30 pm.
  • Rename the months like an old folklore calendar
    January becomes “The Month of Locked Doors,” and so forth. You can make them cute or ominous or fantastical or something entirely different.
  • Curate a personal winter museum
    Five objects on your desk. Write one sentence about why each deserves a placard.

Low-to-Medium Energy (Tabletop, Floor, or Soft Music Required)

  • Create a survival guide for your specific winter
    Include rules like: “No big decisions after sunset” or “Always light a candle before you shower”.
  • Make a tiny ritual out of something you already do
    Tea, skincare, feeding the cat. Give it a beginning, middle, and end. Then write it down for yourself down the road. Collect these winter rituals in a book. Maybe even ask your friends if they have some of their own?
  • Rewrite a fairytale as Southern gossip or local legend
    Not a full story—just the tone and rumor version that you’d imagine your local church-going gossips reaccounting.
  • Assemble a “cold-weather soundtrack” for a fictional character
    Or even yourself. But this can also be a character development exercise.
  • Practice intentional loitering
    Sit near a window or porch and observe one thing for a little while.
  • Write a poem that never mentions winter but is clearly about winter
    Focus on restraint. Omission is the point.
  • Create a recipe that exists only in theory
    Name it. Describe when and how it would be served. You do not have to cook it.
  • Sort your photos like an archivist
    Create albums that are separated by color, adventure, life phase, or even time of day.
  • Draft a one-page “field guide”
    Examples: Field Guide to People Who Disappear in Winter, Field Guide to Indoor Light, Field Guide to Quiet Evenings.

Medium-Energy (Still Gentle, Still Cozy, But Upright)

  • Rearrange one small space like you’re preparing for a long stay
    A drawer, a shelf, a nightstand. Be prepared, yaknow?
  • Write a winter letter to yourself to read in spring
    I’d recommend to keep it observational, not aspirational. No goals. Just telling your future self how excited you are for sunshine to come back.
  • Create something meant to be used up by the season
    A candle plan, a soup rotation, a nightly reading list.
  • Host a solo “slow afternoon”
    One album, one warm drink, one creative task. No multitasking allowed.
  • Make a map of your hometown or neighborhood. Make it winter-specific if you’d like.
    This can be real or imagined. Perhaps you map all the hibernation spots of the fairies and goblins or maybe you make a map that shows you the best place to get a hot chocolate.

I hope these tips have been useful to you. Hang in there, and stay alive!

How not to be Boring

Let’s clear something up first and straight out of the gate. Please note that being “boring” has very little to do with how exciting your life looks online and everything to do with how engaged you are with your own existence. I am not at ALL talking about performative “interesting” that hounds us online. That, very honestly, could be a blog post of its own. This isn’t about appearances.

You can live in a small town, work a normal job, go to bed at a reasonable hour, and still be deeply interesting and have a remarkable personal life. Conversely, you can travel constantly, attend trendy events, and still be painfully dull if you move through life on autopilot and without engaging with those experiences.

The difference is passion (In my humble opinion at least).
And not the loud, capital-P, quit-your-job kind that also seems to be making its rounds regularly on the internet. Capital P passion is usally used to sell you lifestyle coach or course that supposedly will fix your life. I’m talking about quiet attentiveness. Curiosity. The ability to take the mundane and tilt it just enough that it becomes intentional and…well, interesting!

If you want to not be boring, you don’t need to overhaul your life. I think the secret lies in reframing your perspective.

My authority to speak on this matter comes entirely from me having the audacity to write this and the fact that I KNOW I’ve been boring in certain phases of my life but interesting in others. That’s another note I guess, that is also worth mentioning here: You can become interesting if you find yourself falling into the lull of being a boring person. The vice versa can also be true. You can be interesting and then slip into monotony. Let’s not pretend these are permanent labels.

Alright! I think that’s all the disclaimers. Let’s dive into what I think makes an interesting person interesting…

The Core Rule: Care About Something (Preferably Many Things)

The most boring people I’ve met all share one trait: they don’t care. They scroll and consume, and comment vaguely, but they don’t engage. No strong opinions. No enthusiasm. OR their whole personality depends on whatever is trending that month. It doesn’t go deeper than that.

Passion is what gives life texture. You don’t have to be the best at something to love it. Nor do you have to know everything about everything. You just need to care.

Care deeply about your morning coffee and the perfect way to fix it.
Try to care about how your body feels when you walk, and how nice those birds are singing today, and how red that mailbox is. Care about learning one strange, specific thing really well.

Boredom is less about what you do and more about how absent you are while doing it.

Moving Around: Make It a Game, Not a Chore

Movement is one of the easiest places to inject interest, because it already asks something of you physically. The trick is to stop framing it as productivity.

Instead of:

  • “I need to go on a run.”

Try:

  • “I won’t stop running until I’ve spotted ten blue things.”
  • “I’m walking until I notice three houses with weird door knockers.”
  • “I’m stretching while imagining I’m a medieval scribe trying not to get scoliosis.”
  • “I’m running to collect five weird rocks. I will not stop until I have collected five weird rocks.”

Movement becomes interesting when it has a focus, not a finish line.

You don’t need a fitness goal (though those are totally fine too!). You probably just need something to notice. Something to collect. Something slightly ridiculous. Everything doesn’t have to be a to-do list, including movement. I think, in part, this is why it was so easy to move around as a kid. I wasn’t “going for a walk to walk off my dinner”. I was going on an adventure. I was going to collect dragon eggs (which involved finding the roundest rocks in the area and then bringing them home and painting them a variety of colors). Try and tap into the whimsy.

Mind-Building Activities: Give Your Brain Something to Chew On

A bored mind is usually an underfed one.

This doesn’t mean you need to be constantly “learning” in a grindset way. It means you should regularly do things that require sustained attention and mild effort.

Examples:

  • Reading books that challenge your worldview or introduce unfamiliar ideas.
  • Listening to long-form podcasts instead of endless short clips.
  • Memorizing poetry, facts, or historical oddities for no reason other than delight.
  • Thinking deeply about one question and letting it bother you.
  • Oh! And write down what you discover. What’s the point if you don’t retain anything or can’t look back on it?

If all your thoughts are borrowed from the internet, you will sound like the internet. And the internet is, frankly, exhausting and irksome at times. It’s also ever-changing and ever enraged. You need to ground yourself in something that isn’t in a screen.

Life Skills: Competence Is Interesting

There is something deeply un-boring about a person who knows how to do things. And helpful. Dear Goodness, so helpful. Your friends will thank you.

Learn how to:

  • Cook one meal really well.
  • Sew a button.
  • Fix something small instead of replacing it.
  • Write a clear email.
  • Host people comfortably.

Life skills ground you in the physical world. They give you stories as well as some confidence. They make you less dependent on convenience, which automatically makes you more interesting. In fact, I would go as far to say that competence is downright attractive. Curiosity about competence is even better. Don’t be a damsel in your own life, waiting for people to save you from whatever “dragon” crosses your path. While I give the internet a lot of crap, I do think it is amazing for cracking down on lame excuses to not learn how to do something.

Hobbies: Be Bad at Something on Purpose

You don’t need a monetizable hobby. You need a hobby that absorbs you. The internet will try to tell you that hobbies and interests are “cringe” (Not always, but I’ve seen it). Try, friend! You don’t have broadcast it. Just try the thing and feel good inside.

  • Paint badly.
  • Play guitar poorly.
  • Dance badly.
  • Garden with reckless optimism.
  • Collect something niche and inexplicable.

Hobbies are where passion is allowed to exist without justification. They remind you that joy doesn’t need an audience. And, sometimes, eventually, if you stick with something long enough, you might even get good???

If you can talk excitedly about something no one else cares about, congratulations. You’re not boring. You’re doing something right.

The Necessities (Yes, These Are Non-Negotiable)

Read

You simply cannot be interesting if you don’t read.

Reading gives you language and Perspective. It introduces you to thoughts you didn’t know you could have. There is not escaping its importance.

Read fiction. Read essays. Read things that annoy you a little. Read slowly. Read often. Read magazines. Read articles. (Maybe take a break from reading tweets, though).

Journal

Not because it’s aesthetic and definitely not because it’s trendy. Do it because if you don’t record your life, it might disappear from your memory.

Journaling turns experiences into a narrative. It helps you notice patterns and preserves the small, strange moments that would otherwise evaporate into a fine mist that is gone before you even realize.

Interesting people remember their lives (or most of it anyway). Journaling helps with that.

Get Off Your Phone (Sometimes)

Your phone is a boredom amplifier masquerading as entertainment.

Being constantly online flattens experience and trains your brain to be in a million places at once, but NEVER the present. Everything starts to feel the same. You stop noticing where you are because your attention is always elsewhere.

Boredom, ironically, is often the doorway to creativity. Put the phone down long enough to let your mind wander. Something will eventually happen. A spark will replace that boredom eventually, but you have to let it happen. You’re also training your brain to be lazy and never come up with ideas on its own. This is why our first instinct when we’re bored or uncomfortable is to seek solace and direction from our devices.

Final Thought: Pay Attention

Not being boring is not about doing more. It’s about noticing more. Build a life you are actively paying attention to, and boredom won’t stand a chance.

Passion is being present. That is the takeaway here, I think.

But Idk, man. These are just my opinions. It’s your life.

The “Don’t Save the Sticker” Theory: There’ll never be a perfect time for anything

This concept is not novel, but I was thinking about it in specific terms the other day. When you were a kid, did you have save stickers to wait for the perfect time and perfect surface to use them on? But, surprise, surprise, that perfect moment never came? Circumstances were never quite right enough.

I logically know that life is imperfect by nature and most things are hard to begin but the seriousness of decision paralysis hit me in a special way when I considered this childhood lens. Those stickers I hoarded? I have no CLUE where they are now. The window for using them ended at some point, unbeknownst to me. A theory very similar to this one that I’ve dubbed the “don’t save the sticker” theory (so official sounding, I’m really breaking new ground over here) is the Fig Tree analogy. The idea is that in life, you are presented with a branch of figs which represent opportunities. These figs tend to serve as a metaphor for different careers and life paths one could pursue BUT you only have so much time to choose your figs as they will eventually rot. You have to choose one or you essentially choose none.

This theory is a bit hyper-focused in career paths and “roles” one could play in life so, to a degree, I disagree with it. I think you can be a successful artist who is also a horse-back rider. An accountant can go home and write novels. We are limited by time, yes, but I don’t think it’s quite so dire that we can only choose one singular fig. I think we can be many things in life and it’s never too late to try pivoting.

That’s why I like the concept of the “Don’t save the sticker”. It really emphasizes simply taking what opportunities you can, even if they’re not what you perceive as “perfect” circumstances. This is theory is in line with the saying of “do it tired” or “do it scared”. Just do it. (Oh look, I’m Nike now).

I think the real tragedy of saving the sticker isn’t that we might use it “wrong,” but that we quietly accept inaction as neutrality when it’s actually a choice. Not choosing is still choosing. I have to remember that not making a decision is often me choosing comfort, familiarity, or the illusion that I’ll be more ready later. And later is SUCH a slippery concept. It feels infinite right up until it isn’t.

Maybe the goal isn’t to use every sticker wisely, but to use them at all. To slap them onto notebooks that get scuffed, water bottles that eventually crack, or moments that aren’t Instagram-worthy but are real and lived-in. A sticker on a scratched surface still did its job: it existed.

I don’t want a life where everything stays pristine because I was too afraid to commit. Let things be temporary, flawed, and unfinished if that’s the cost of letting them exist at all.

After all, unused stickers don’t become more valuable with time. They just disappear.

That time I started writing a Self-Help Book

Did you guys know that I started a self-help book at one point in time? It sounds goofy, but it was on a topic I had become passionate about as it personally affected me. This, of course, as this title suggests, was the art of living alone. Guys, when I tell you I struggled…

I grew up a fairly introverted person (at least I thought anyways). I liked playing alone. I didn’t have tons of friends in middle school, which generally didn’t bother me too much. I liked having my own space and keeping it nice and neat. I thought moving out would be a cinch.

After a brief stint with a roommate, I was living alone. Which was amazing! Until it wasn’t. And then I started writing this book and got 5 chapters in before abandoning it. I was actually revisiting it recently as I was cleaning some files off my computer and started rereading. While there are already some edits I think I would make (gosh, I was melodramatic at this time), I did enjoy the trip back in time especialy now that I’m married and definitely NOT living alone. So I thought I’d share the first chapter with you here. Let me know what you guys think and if I should bother resurrecting this long-dead project! So here we have it! Chapter one of…

How to not go Crazy (And other notes on living alone)

Introduction

The windchime outside my window is a reminder that there’s a world beyond these four walls, but some days, it’s hard to remember that I’m part of it. Inside my apartment, the air hangs heavy with the kind of silence that amplifies every creak, every hum, and every thought with nowhere else to go. The fridge drones away in the kitchen. The coffee machine sighs and grumbles like a mechanical beast awakening from slumber as my coffee drips into the mug. This is my life as a woman in her 20s, living alone.

In my newly found sanctuary, I find myself night after night, wrestling with thoughts that only seem to show their ugly face when the house is still. They whisper about the coming future, taunting me with the “what ifs” that I am far too familiar with. The apartment that is filled with the laughter of friends and family during the day sighs with the weight of my loneliness when everyone eventually parts ways.

It was on one of these nights that I started a list. I can see it clearly: me, lying in bed, the phone’s glow illuminating the darkened room, fingers poised over the keyboard. The title was simple and direct. I just want to be good at being Alone. It was a declaration of intent, a manifesto, a silent shout into the void that was my apartment. I’d uttered it out loud many times, often to myself, sometimes to close friends, my mother, and my sisters. Truth be told, they’re probably tired of hearing it. I feared that if I didn’t get better at this, they’d stop asking me how I was.

But they didn’t, and they haven’t. They still care. They still ask. They still listen. It’s a testament to the most important lesson I’ve learned in my solitary living: I am alone, but I am also not alone. Nights may be long, but, as corny as it sounds, morning always comes.

Chapter 1: Learn to Cook for One

I began jotting.

Learn to Cook. Have a Crock Pot. Collect Recipes.

Then underneath:

This is not only a practical skill to learn but a point I want to prove. People often equate companionship with a shared meal. I just want to show myself that I can be satisfied. I want to show myself that I can take care of her.

Cooking for one is an art form. It is one that requires patience, foresight and even a bit of creativity. It’s about finding joy in those little victories. The comforting warmth of a meal prepared with care as well as the knowledge that you’ve provided for yourself. It’s not just about feeding your body; it’s also about feeding your soul. It’s about telling oneself that you deserve to invest time into your meals even if they’re just for you and you alone.

In the beginning, it was hard. I found myself standing in the grocery store, staring at the aisles of food that seemed designed for families or couples. Bulk packaging, family-sized portions were my biggest opposition at first. Nothing seemed to fit my life. But I quickly realized that cooking for one is about more than just cutting recipes in half. It’s about learning to see the kitchen as a place of possibility rather than yet another area of life that highlights my loneliness.

The first dish I mastered was a simple one—beef stew. There is something deeply comforting about a bowl of homemade stew, especially on those days when the world feels too big and scary. I made it in my trusty crock pot, the slow cooker that has become my closest ally in this solo culinary journey. The process was meditative, and I loved every bit of it from The slow chopping of vegetables, to the seasoning of the broth, to the slow simmering that filled my apartment. It made my humble abode actually feel like a home.

As I stirred the stew, I realized that cooking for one shouldn’t’ be a chore. It’s should be about savoring the moment, taking the time to care for yourself in a way that’s both practical and deeply loving. It should be about being present. There’s a satisfaction that comes from knowing that you can sustain yourself, that you can create something yummy (even if its only for you!)

I began to experiment more in the kitchen by trying new recipes and adapting them to fit my needs. I learned how to freeze portions for later and how to make a meal that would last for days without losing its appeal. I found joy in the ritual of cooking and in the simple pleasure of feeding myself well.

Over time, I elaborated on this list item even more.

  • See grocery shopping as a little solo adventure and not a chore.
  • Invest in good ingredients sometimes; don’t be afraid to spend a little $$$ on yourself sometimes
  • Don’t be afraid to try something new.

Cooking for one became a way to reclaim my independence and to remind myself that I am enough, just as I am. It was no longer a task to be dreaded, but a skill to be honed. It was a form of self-care that nourished not just my body, but my spirit.

And so, I encourage you to do the same. Find your favorite recipes, experiment with new ones, and most importantly, savor the experience. This is your space, your life. Take the time to make it delicious.

Have a Crock Pot.

Of all the kitchen appliances you could own, the humble crock pot might just be the most useful when living alone. At first glance, it’s easy to overlook. I historically disliked it when I lived at home. It was a bit bulky as well as a bit old-fashioned (very reminiscent of my grandmother’s kitchen). But don’t let appearances fool you. This unassuming appliance is your secret weapon in the art of solo living.

Why a crock pot? Because of its simplicity, convenience, and the power to transform basic ingredients into something that feels like coming home. When you’re living alone, time can either stretch or shrink depending on the day, and a crock pot gives you the flexibility to feed yourself without being tethered to the stove or forced to babysit a dish all day.

Imagine this: you wake up in the morning, knowing it’s going to be one of those long, exhausting days. The last thing you want to do when you get home is cook. We’ve all been there. But the good news is, with a crock pot, all you need is a few minutes of preparation. Throw in your ingredients—maybe some chicken, vegetables, broth, and spices. Then set it, and forget it, sister. As you go about your day, your meal is quietly simmering away, filling your home with the comforting aroma of something cozy and yummy. By the time you return, dinner is ready, and you’ve already put all the work in at the front end of the process and even then it wasn’t that much.

Having a crock pot isn’t just about convenience (though that is an enormous plus). It’s also about consistency. When you’re cooking for one, it’s easy to fall into the habit of eating quick, unhealthy meals or skipping dinner altogether. I know the latter was a trap I found myself falling into far too often. It came to a point where I had to tell myself that no, chips and salsa don’t count for an entire meal. My eating habits were bad and all over the place. Another plus of the crock pot is that encourages you to take the time to plan ahead as well as create meals that will carry you through the week. It’s a tool that helps you establish a routine and a rhythm in your life that grounds you when everything else feels uncertain. It helped add a certain level of dependency to my meal plan.

Next, let’s talk about versatility. Whether you’re in the mood for a rich beef stew, tender pulled pork, or even a comforting mac and cheese, the crock pot can do it all. It’s particularly great for making meals in batches, which means you can cook it once and eat multiple meals. This is a lifesaver for those days when you simply don’t have the energy to prepare anything but still want something home-cooked. It isn’t just limited to soups and stews.

Another benefit of using a crock pot is that it’s incredibly forgiving. Unlike other cooking methods that require precise timing and constant attention, the crock pot is more laid back. You can experiment with different ingredients and spices without worrying too much about getting it wrong. The long cooking process melds flavors together in a way that makes even the simplest of ingredients taste like you’ve been slaving over the stove for hours.

And let’s not forget the cleanup. As you may be all too aware of, cleaning up is up to you and you alone. The last thing you want is a sink full of dishes to deal with after work. With a crock pot, you can often make your entire meal in one pot, saving you both time and effort. A quick wash and rinse and it’s ready to go!

In the end, I view my crock pot as more than an appliance. It’s a companion on my journey of living alone. It is a simple but amazing tool that makes the everyday task of meal prep feel a little less daunting. Please take this as a reminder that you deserve to eat well, even if you’re the only one at the table. So, invest in a good one, and let it become a reliable, old friend.

Collect Recipes.

In learning to cook, recipes can serve as more than just instructions for making food—they can be threads that connect you to the people and places you love. When you’re standing in your kitchen, cooking a meal from a recipe handwritten by your mother, it’s as if she’s right there with you, sharing a moment that transcends the physical distance between you.

Collecting recipes isn’t just about building a repertoire of dishes; it’s about creating a personal archive of memories, stories, and connections. Each recipe you gather is a piece of your history, a way to carry the warmth of loved ones into your daily life. Your mother’s handwriting on a worn recipe card, the smudges of flour and sauce, the little notes in the margins—they all tell a story. They speak of her care, her love, and the countless meals she prepared with you in mind.

When you cook from these recipes, you’re not just feeding yourself; you’re participating in a ritual that spans generations. It’s a way of saying, “I’m here, and so are they.” In a way, your kitchen becomes a meeting place for the people who’ve shaped you, even if they’re miles away or are no longer with us.

It’s not just family recipes that carry this power either. Recipes from friends should also hold a special place in your collection. Each one is a token of friendship, a shared experience that lives on long after the meal has ended. When a friend shares their favorite recipe with you, they’re offering a piece of themselves, a gesture of affection. And when you cook that recipe, you’re reminded of the times you’ve spent together along with the bond you share.

Just think about it! How cute is it that humans not only developed unique ways to prepare their food and nutrients to please their palette but also feel a sense of identity with these aforementioned methods? We record these processes and share them with those close to us. Sharing recipes is an innately human experience so please take part of it!

Building a recipe collection is also a way to create new connections, to expand your culinary horizons. You might come across a recipe online or in a cookbook that intrigues you, something you’ve never tried before. As you experiment with it, tweak it, make it your own. Who knows? Maybe it’ll become one of your regular meals and something you can one day pass on to others.

In this way, your recipe collection becomes a living, evolving document of your life. It’s a mix of the old and the new, the familiar and the adventurous. It can become a reflection of who you’ve known and where you’ve been. I’d like to think that as I add to my growing collection of recipes, I am also collecting memories, experiences and a sense of community.

When I’m feeling particularly alone, pulling out one of these cherished recipes can be a huge comfort. It’s a way of reaching out to the people who care about me, even when they’re not physically present in my small one-bedroom apartment. The act of cooking becomes a way of reconnecting with my roots, of grounding myself in the love that surrounds me, even in the quiet moments of solitude.

So, take the time to gather these recipes, to write them down, to keep them close. Whether it’s your mother’s famous apple pie, your friend’s go-to pork recipe, or a killer casserole recipe that you discovered on your own, each one is a reminder that you are never truly alone. Allow your recipe collection to be more than just a list of meals. Let it be a physical testament of the enduring power of community and the connections that sustain us, even when we’re cooking for one.

No One Prepared Us for Adult Friendship

Recently, a certain topic has been occupying my thoughts more and more. I have read a few books and listened to a handful of podcasts on it, yet I still feel like it is not discussed nearly enough. I am, of course, talking about friendship. Female friendship specifically.

Right now, we live in a time where dating advice is everywhere. Dating coaches dominate social media feeds, and the internet is overflowing with content about how to attract, keep, or heal from “the one.” Meanwhile, friendship, and the role it plays in shaping our lives, often feels like an afterthought. It is treated as something secondary or assumed, rather than something that also requires intention, care, and understanding.

My interest in this topic has only grown as I have moved through different stages of life. There are particular growing pains that surface when you and your friends make the leap from high school to college. Things become complicated, but not in the dramatic, obvious ways we expect. Instead, the complications are quieter, slower, and often harder to name.

High school friendships are already known for their turbulence. There are obvious highs and lows, and plenty of material there for discussion. Lately, though, what draws my attention most are articles and podcasts that focus on adult friendship. These are conversations led by people who are trying to put language to experiences many of us share, especially those that feel unique to this moment in history. How do you transition from high school to college without losing everyone you care about? Why does it suddenly feel like people are drifting away or ignoring you? Why do your friends start changing in ways that make you wonder whether the friendship can survive at all?

There are also new complications that previous generations did not have to navigate in quite the same way. I have a friend who is a terrible texter, and our friendship has suffered because of long distance. Before the age of phones, this kind of constant but uneven communication was barely possible. Now, silence can feel personal, even when it is not meant to be. We find ourselves living in a unique era for adult friendship, one shaped by technology, mobility, and shifting expectations. That reality fascinates me.

These nuances still feel under-discussed, so I want to share a few of the voices I have been reading and listening to lately that have really fueled my interest in this topic.

First, and easily my favorite, is Alexandra Hayes Robinson. She is a YouTuber who runs an advice column, and she gives friendship the kind of thoughtful attention it deserves. One of her most well-known ideas is the “six besties” theory, which I love so much that I want to briefly recap it here.

The core idea is that different friends play different roles in your life, with varying levels of closeness and responsibility. She talks about a Good-Time Bestie, someone you genuinely enjoy spending time with and can have fun with, but who may not be the person you call during a crisis. She also introduces the North Star Bestie, the friend who plays an active, steady role in your life and who feels safe knowing the deepest parts of you. She goes on to describe coworker besties, people you genuinely like and enjoy within a work environment, even if you rarely see each other outside of professional settings, along with other friendship categories that reflect real adult dynamics.

I appreciate this theory because it helps make sense of how messy adult friendships can look once you leave the structured world of school. Not every friendship has to be all-consuming or lifelong to be meaningful. This framework allows for friendships to shift without immediately jumping to the conclusion that they have failed or must be ended entirely.

I also think this approach helps manage expectations. Not every friend can, or should, meet the same emotional needs. This theory simply gives language to a truth many of us already feel but struggle to articulate. For that reason alone, I highly recommend checking her work out.

Next up is Charlotte Morabito. While I do not watch her content quite as regularly, she has a strong catalog of thoughtful videos on friendship, particularly on the unhealthy mindsets we often cling to that end up creating unnecessary conflict in our relationships.

Just this morning, I watched an excellent video of hers titled “Why You Always Care More Than Your Friends.” What I appreciated most is what the video does not do. She does not default to the familiar narrative of telling you that you are “just such a giver,” while everyone else is lazy, selfish, or simply not worthy of your time. There is no rush to villainize your friends or to encourage cutting people off at the first sign of imbalance.

Instead, she approaches the topic with a more critical and grounded lens, walking through a variety of dynamics that could realistically be at play. One possibility she explores is the idea that you might be trying to prove your friendship to someone by immediately showering them with praise, favors, and attention. While this often comes from a good place, it can quickly become overwhelming and even unhealthy, especially when it is rooted in insecurity or fear of being abandoned.

She also talks about how mismatched expectations can quietly erode friendships. It is possible that you have never clearly communicated what you need from your friends. Maybe they genuinely believe you enjoy planning every outing or initiating every conversation and do not want to step on your toes. In that case, what feels like neglect to you may simply be a misunderstanding on their end.

I really appreciate this framework for discussion because it steers away from accusation and instead encourages self-reflection. It asks people to consider how their own patterns, assumptions, and unspoken expectations might be contributing to the situation or even creating it entirely. If there is one thing that feels universally true, it is that people can get very lost inside their own heads.

Anyway, I have linked the video below if you are interested in checking it out for yourself.

Third up is Psychology with Dr. Ana. She is a licensed psychologist, which brings a slightly different and more scientific perspective to many of the scenarios she discusses, and that is especially true when it comes to her conversations about friendship.

Much of her content centers on the expectations we carry in our heads but never actually communicate to the people around us. She talks about boundaries, the importance of naming your needs, and the thinking patterns that can quietly cause us to get in our own way without us realizing it. Rather than framing these issues as personal failures, she presents them as habits that can be examined and adjusted with awareness and practice.

What I appreciate most is that she manages to cover these topics without slipping into overly polished, holier-than-thou therapy language. Her approach feels accessible and practical, which makes her insights easier to absorb and apply to real-life friendships rather than leaving them stuck in the abstract.

Finally, I read a book. Yes, everyone, I am now an expert.

That said, I will admit it is not as directly related to adult friendship as my previous recommendations. The book focuses specifically on female friendship during middle school and high school. Even so, I found it incredibly relevant. It explores how, as women, our friends often have the ability to wound us more deeply than almost anyone else in our lives, all while leaving us questioning whether we are imagining the hurt in the first place.

A large portion of the book examines female aggression and the subtle ways it tends to be expressed. Rather than overt conflict, it looks at exclusion, silence, passive behavior, and emotional manipulation, patterns that are often dismissed or minimized. While the book is not explicitly about adult friendship, I still think it is an excellent resource for anyone who carries a lot of baggage from past female friendships, or honestly, for anyone at all.

I do not have to tell you that some people do not outgrow the behaviors described in this book. Those patterns can easily follow us into adulthood if they are never named or challenged. Because of that, I also think this book can be useful as a mirror. It gives us the opportunity to check ourselves, to make sure we are saying what we mean, communicating clearly, and having necessary conversations instead of letting resentment quietly build. (See said book below)

IN CONCLUSION…

Friendship is not a static thing we master once and carry effortlessly through life. It changes as we change, shaped by distance, time, technology, and the quiet evolution of who we are becoming. The transition from adolescent friendship to adult friendship can feel disorienting precisely because there are so few clear scripts for it. We are often left trying to interpret silence, shifting priorities, and unmet expectations on our own.

What these books, videos, and conversations have helped me realize is that many of the tensions we experience in friendship are not signs of failure, but signs of growth happening in real time. Adult friendship asks us to be more self-aware, more communicative, and more honest than we were ever required to be before. It challenges us to examine our expectations, our insecurities, and the roles we unconsciously assign to the people we love and probably want to keep around!

If nothing else, I hope this encourages more open conversation around friendship, especially female friendship. It deserves the same thought, care, and nuance we so readily give to romantic relationships. I think this post is probably the beginning of many, as I delve deeper into this topic, so there is likely more to come! Stay tuned!

Your Screentime Problem Isn’t Discipline, It’s Boredom

Or, at least mine is, come to find out. But before I dive into today’s blog post, I just wanted to say hi and recap my last post. I gave you readers a little life update about how I want to commit more time to writing and continue to fight this nasty habit of mine: doomscrolling instead of doing something that actually makes me feel fulfilled. I’ve made numerous posts about this little struggle, which I’m sure is becoming almost universal at this point. Who isn’t trying to lower their screen time these days? Especially when we all know there are tons of more fulfilling things to do.

So that leads me into today’s post, which comes from a few random thoughts I had when I realized that I’d actually managed to lower my screen time lately. To a whole two hours a day! (Cue the round of applause.)

Okay… so maybe it could still be better, but as a self-proclaimed YouTube essay addict, cut me some slack. This is better. But I began to wonder how I managed this over the past month. I’ve made a variety of attempts to lower my screen time with varying degrees of success, so it felt important to pinpoint what strategy finally worked for my life. Why exactly was I able to reduce my screen time this time around? What changed?

The conclusion I arrived at was simple: I needed a hobby.

In my previous blog posts, I’ve described my distant desire to reduce screentime, but I didn’t elaborate much on my strategy for doing so because I assumed it would be as simple as that. I’d decide to be on my phone less, and therefore, I would be. Alas, it doesn’t always pan out that way (hence those varying degrees of success I mentioned).

Turns out sheer willpower is a tough thing to rely on when it comes to breaking a bad habit. You need to fill that empty space with something else. You, or at least I, need something else to occupy your time. I feel a little sheepish typing that out. The conclusion seems obvious, but it wasn’t so obvious to me at first. Certain months, I was terrible about filling my evenings after work, and lo and behold, those were the nights I was most likely to do something… screen-y.

This last month, however, was different. I didn’t plan for it to be different. It just sort of happened. I wanted a book from the library. I wanted to spend more time writing. So I invested time in both. My focus was less on reducing screen time and more on simply doing something else. But it seems that the lack of doomscrolling was a delightful byproduct. And so, my conclusion was made: I need to stop focusing so much on not getting on my phone and instead focus on what hobby sounds fun to dive into on a random weeknight.

This is probably obvious to everyone reading and hardly a novel discovery, but, fool that I am, I didn’t realize until recently that I need more than willpower to kick an overindulging screen habit. I need a hobby. Actually, a few of them.

But if you happen to be in my shoes and are possibly just as dense as me, maybe this post helped you realize that you’re not a weak-willed weenie. You just need to direct your attention toward something else you enjoy. Focus less on not doing something, and more on doing something better for you.

So here’s your gentle reminder for the week: put the phone down, pick something up, and let your hands and mind get busy with life again.

And I think that’s all for now! Byeeee! 🙂

How to Be More Whimsical (Without Moving to a Forest)

Sometimes life feels like a never-ending list of emails and meal-prepping and remembering your passwords. And while that’s all very adult and responsible of us, sometimes you just want to inject a little whimsy into the day. I’m not talking wearing a tutu to work of course (unless you’re into that? Idk where you work). I mean tiny, delightful oddities that make life feel like a storybook for a second.

So here are some specific ways to be more whimsical. Even if you’re a practical person with bills to pay and a Google Calendar that rules your life. Aright, here we gooo:

Start carrying around one overly specific item for no clear reason.
A vintage skeleton key. A feather quill. A deck of cards. Let people ask questions. Refuse to explain. Mystery is 30% of whimsy.

Host a “mismatched tea moment” once a week.
No guests needed. Just you, an oddly paired mug and saucer, maybe a cookie, maybe a journal. Bonus points if you wear a shawl like you’re some mysterious wizard woman.

Leave secret messages for your future self.
Tuck tiny notes into your coat pocket or inside a book you’ll eventually re-read. “You are loved. Also, buy ice cream.” It’s like time-traveling kindness.

Assign your day a genre.
Decide that today is a romantic comedy, or a slow-burn fantasy epic, or a chaotic detective story. Suddenly your coffee run is a plot point, and your bus ride has cinematic tension.

Make a “soundtrack” for your day.
Start your morning with French café jazz, switch to dramatic classical when you do emails, then blast 2000s bops while you make dinner. Be the main character in the most eccentric indie film ever made.

Pick a word of the week and use it dramatically.
Not a normal word. Something like “bewildered” or “henceforth.” Use it in casual conversation.

Choose a random object as your daily talisman.
A marble, a mini pinecone, a button. Carry it like it has secret powers.

Add a secret ingredient to something you cook just because it feels magical.
Nutmeg in your eggs. Rose water in your lemonade. Not because it’s gourmet, but because it feels like a potion. Say “a dash of enchantment” while doing it.

Tell the time like you’re in a fantasy novel.
“It is the second hour past dawn, and I have yet to answer my emails.”
“It is nearly the witching hour—I must fetch snacks.”

Hide something for a stranger to find.
A doodle. A quote. A “congratulations, you found this” note under a library chair or taped to the back of a street sign. It’s low-stakes mischief. Good for the soul.

Rename your calendar events.
Instead of “Dentist Appointment,” call it “Royal Council with the Tooth Kingdom.” Instead of “Grocery Store,” try “Foraging Quest.” Suddenly errands are… thrilling?

Go out dressed like a book character.
Not full cosplay. Just a little nod. A scarf like Miss Marple. Overalls like Anne of Green Gables. Boots like a pirate.

Hopefully these will add a bit of sparkle to your routine!