Thriving, Apparently

My Instagram algorithm told me it all starts with improving your physical health.

So I drank enough water, ate a very-fucking-green vegetable, went for a run, did the ten-step skincare routine, and slept for a full eight hours. Then I came home tonight and still let out the kind of scream that will probably void my lease.

Let me provide a little context. I entered this health-centric journey from a seemingly hopeless state: I could barely drink half of my 24oz Owala water bottle because, honestly, why bother when I could have a third latte instead? Between that, skipping meals, bed-rotting, and being unable to fall asleep until three in the morning because of the Thoughts, there was little hope. Now, it's all changed. Just like magic, I should be cured of all other ailments.

Well, all right. I feel healthier. I feel better after working out than I do after six consecutive hours of staring at the ceiling while reliving every mistake I've made over the past half-year to increasingly depressing Taylor Swift songs -- surprise, surprise.

Hydrated, sweaty, full of salad, and totally mentally stable! It's a miracle. I'm back to thriving and overachieving with ease.

beginning term three of six for my master's!

All right, I'll stop lying to you.

There is a lot to juggle. I work full-time as a Social Media Manager, while completing my Creative Writing Master's, also full-time. I work out every day and journal every night. My week is scheduled by the minute. Clearly, I'll do whatever it takes to succeed. Or so people keep saying about me.

I've been curating this "overachiever" look since I was in high school, taking Advanced Astrophysics on top of seven other courses while writing thousands of words per week. College only emphasized that, as I got near-perfect grades in an assortment of subjects while becoming the youngest supervisor at my long-term barista job. I know how to play the part.

(Despite never taking an acting class. Regretfully.)

light filters in (poems) by caroline kaufman

So I've heard it all. You're so strong and focused. So ambitious, so driven. It's always a double-edged sword; half-compliment and half-jibe. When I told my mom that my long-term relationship ended, she said, I figured, you're so focused on work. You never have time for the rest. I'd laughed along, then hung up and bawled my eyes out at my desk. You know. Like a grown-up. Totally not like a toddler.

People deserve recognition for their hard work; don't get me wrong. But the expectation that people have to stifle their emotions in order to be taken seriously and succeed? Not too sexy. But once you've built an overachieving persona, it's hard to show up as anything else.

So you're limited to crying in the work bathroom -- then going to your 3PM meeting like nothing happened. Kindly ignore the mascara stains, guys. Thanks.

light in the darkness (or, work photography)

It's not like the world quits spinning because you're grieving. We've all had to learn that the hard way at some point in our lives. I could barely hear a song on the radio at work without changing the station when my relationship fell apart, but the deadline for my project stayed the same. Life drags you along either way, so you might as well act like you have your shit together, right? Even if you don't?

I definitely don't.

All snark aside, the critics were kind of right about drinking water, working out, etc. Drinking a green smoothie isn't going to fix all of my problems, but it might fix some of them. I'm starting to feel like I'm getting my life together, bit by bit. But I still spent hours bed-rotting yesterday, and yes, I did wail into my pillow tonight like a recently-exorcised demon. That's the whole point.

It isn't linear. It'll never be linear, for any of us.

boba date with my best friend :)

On social media, you see the highlights. Someone's backpacking through Western Europe while you're in an office cubicle. Someone else just got engaged the week you suffered through a breakup. Are you enjoying that microwaved dinner? This girl just meal-prepped enough for a week, solely with organic, vegan, low-calorie ingredients. Do you feel good about yourself? Not for long!

I mean, I get it. That's my entire job. Make it look good, hide all the flaws, make it catchy, make it cute. Make someone want to consume. So when my Instagram algorithm promised it all starts with your physical health, I listened.

Then there's the soul-crushing guilt when I backslide, crying in the work bathroom for the forty-seventh time. I should be better, a little voice says. Why am I not better?

Progress is slow. Good days, bad days, and in-between days -- just like I said in my last post. As contradictory as it might feel, repressing your emotions makes the process even slower. You have to be compassionate towards yourself, even if you skipped a workout or didn't do as well on an assignment as you hoped.

emotional support almond croissant

If you need to scream into a pillow, do it sooner, rather than later. Better that than crying in a Target aisle next week because someone else grabbed the last oat milk.

(Been there, done that.)

Really, here’s my advice: Take the mental health day. Say no when you need to. Answer honestly when a friend asks if you're okay. Then do the cardio, take the walk, drink the water, eat the greens. All the good stuff. But don’t stress if you slip up. I’m still learning, too. We all are.

I'm not thriving, apparently. But I'm getting close to content, and I think that's even better.

Lastly, if no one's told you: softness is not a weakness. You won't be any less likely to succeed just because you give a crap, I promise. The algorithm didn’t tell me that part -- so I’m telling you now.