Dear Diary,
I have recently decided that every aspect of my life deserves to be romanticized. Especially the time I spend alone.
There is something incredibly exciting about getting home after a long day, changing into my comfiest pjs, making a snack, grabbing a glass of wine, wrapping myself up in a blanket, and settling in for an evening with my current obsession (right now it’s Sex and the City). An evening with absolutely no plans? Sign me up. An evening spent catching up on schoolwork at a coffee shop or in the library, accompanied by the most ridiculous coffee order I can come up with? Suddenly, I’m starring in my own coming-of-age film. Even the mundane tasks of everyday life have started feeling a little more exciting when I decide to make something of them.
Perhaps I’ve become a little too good at entertaining myself, but I really don’t see the problem and honestly, I encourage everyone to do the same.
I think we put an awful lot of pressure on our twenties to be the most exciting times of our lives. There is this unspoken rule that we should be constantly going out, travelling, meeting new people, building careers and making memories before we’re old and don’t have the energy anymore.
I’m over it. Why should I have to constantly be doing something “exciting” for my life to be worth living? I’ve been thinking that perhaps I’ve been overlooking something rather amazing. My twenties are also about learning to enjoy my own company, discovering what makes me happy, and finding little pockets of joy in the life that I’m actually currently living instead of the one I could be! Not every memorable evening needs to involve a big occasion, and not every weekend needs to be filled with plans.
Sometimes the best part of my day is getting into bed with my book. Sometimes it’s when I take the long way home because the sunset is particularly pretty. Sometimes it’s buying myself flowers, trying a new recipe, or getting disproportionately excited about Hudson Williams being in a new TV show (no, I will not explain myself). Sometimes it’s simply having a quiet evening where I can be perfectly content in the silence.
I think we could all benefit from being a little less serious about our own lives. Be enthusiastic about the things we love, even if they’re a little unconventional. Make an occasion out of an ordinary Tuesday. Stop waiting for other people to make our lives interesting. I refuse to need an audience to enjoy myself and my own company.
I don’t know, maybe I’m just getting sentimental in my old age (I’m still in my early twenties, for the record), but I think I’d rather spend this chapter of my life getting a little too excited about the ordinary than constantly waiting for something extraordinary to happen.
Anyway, it’s getting late and I have a Sex and the City episode to watch with absolutely no intention of being productive for the rest of the evening.
Goodnight.