Every morning, I wake up and make my first decisions.
They’re not big decisions. Not “what jobs should I apply for?” or “how will I know if I’ve found ‘the one’?”
They’re a few smaller decisions. More manageable decisions. And as someone with serious decision paralysis, they’re my favorite ones to make. There is something deeply comforting about a few small stable choices before the world throws the uncontrollable at you.
Hot or iced? Honey or vanilla? Single shot or a double? Maybe even a triple? At home or out at a cafe?
I would like to clarify that this is not medical advice. This is not some brilliant statistics study. This is definitely not me claiming that therapy can be replaced with caffeine. I go to therapy. I believe in therapy. And I actively recommend that everyone else does too.
Coffee may not be my therapist, but it is my emotional support beverage. And that has to count for something.
it’s always been more than caffeine
Here’s the thing: I was destined to be a coffee lover from the start. I grew up with brewing coffee as the soundtrack of my mornings. It’s generational, on both sides of my family. So, naturally, when my parents finally let me start drinking coffee, it kind of all fell into place.
Not in some sort of dramatic, sirens-going-off kind of way, but more in a “oh… so this is why everyone in my bloodline is like this” kind of way.
Some families pass down heirlooms, recipes, or jewelry. We do all of those. But, more than anything tangible, we pass down a caffeine tolerance, and some very strong opinions about espresso beans.
Espresso as a language
Coffee is so much more than a quick pick-me-up drink. In my house, it’s the background noise and family bonding. It’s the silent rule that if something big is about to be discussed, we need to put on a pot first. So, when each of my cousins started drinking coffee with the adults, it didn’t feel like picking up a new habit; it felt like finally participating in the real family talk. As the baby of the family, the moment I had my first sip, I thought I could take over the world.
Now, as an adult myself (a generous use of the word), coffee is my daily anchor. It’s one thing every day that I am 100% positive I will be doing for myself. The daily ritual keeps me grounded even if everything else feels chaotic.
Not a cure, but close enough
In my defense, caffeine has proven benefits. It boosts energy, alertness, and dopamine. I’ve also definitely read some studies that suggest coffee may actually be associated with lower rates of depression. Which is validating, although I’d probably drink it either way.
Coffee is also deeply social. “Do you want to grab a coffee?” might be one of the most universally loaded sentences in the English language. It can mean a lot of things, but mainly:
I need to talk. I miss you. I have news. Tell me everything you’ve been up to. I met someone. I made a bad mistake. I need advice. I want to just be in your presence.
Coffee is a low-commitment way to find connection. It’s the act of sitting across from someone you care about to create a safe space to yap, laugh, cry, or spiral a little bit.
I love my at-home latte ritual and alone time. But don’t even get me started on the cinematic experience of getting to buy a coffee out. The overpriced menu, the fun names of new flavors, the human connection with everyone else who also needed this experience today. The ambient chatter found in a coffee shop is like music to my ears.
Comfort that you can count on
And that’s the entire point. It’s not about the caffeine itself or being a stellar barista. It’s the consistency that I crave. It’s the one small thing I can count on in my everyday life, even if everything else feels out of control. In a world where my next step is unknown, and the pressures of life can get heavy, coffee feels light and steady. It’s a piece of my family, a piece of my routine, and has become a vital piece of who I am.
So no, a coffee a day probably doesn’t keep the depression away. But it does make snoozing my alarm a little harder, and getting out of bed a whole lot easier. Coffee gives me a reason to pause, even if it’s just for a few sips.