Godspeed, Sir. (A Remix in Two Parts)

What you need to know about that Saturday morning: I’d just finished a rousing round of quality time with myself. Look at me. Brave enough to allude to what I was doing but too prudish to spell it out. Walk with me here. I promise it has a point.

Anyway, there I was. Grinning, radiant, and ready to tackle the weekend. I slid open my phone’s screen for a quick morning scroll, only to find the last face I expected to see. Smack dab in the middle of my YouTube feed was the man who made me swear off men. Was this an episode of Black Mirror? Because I swore the same smile that convinced me to have drinks with him all those months ago sneered through the screen with smug judgement.

“How’s not going back to my hotel working for you now, Butterfingers?”

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I Only Look Good in Blazers

A lesson in trusting your gut.

Back in college, when I would proclaim myself “getting thick” when the scale tipped 105 pounds, I received two formative insights about my style.

The first, from a rockhead boy I wanted desperately to love me. A boy who once, as I sat on my twin bed post-coitus, looked at my hips and declared “You know, sitting down, you could trick somebody into thinking you were thick.” Tells you everything you need to know about my self esteem at the time. Point being: his compliments came few and far between.

Anyway. I’m sure I was in some combo of a sweater, button-up, and low rise bootcut jeans—all from Express, thank you very much—he looked at me and said “You look good in the preppy/work clothes look.”

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For the Love of God. Just Do What You Want.

Normalize having some audacity.

We live in a—categorically—absurd world. Where adults film themselves run-skip-jumping down the street for TikTok. And people surgically alter their faces because an AI-generated filter gave them an eyelid lift they really liked. Yet we can’t approach low stake activities—repeating outfits, eating alone, learning new physical skills as an adult—without blanket permission from strangers.

Please normalize this so I don’t feel weird.

What if you decided the thing, whatever it may be, is worth feeling a little weird? And you simply accepted it as the cost of doing what’s good for you?

Read more at Can I Kick It? on Substack