This article is based on a journal entry I wrote when I was in a much more volatile and burnt-out state. It’s so interesting to see what things look and feel like when you simply walk through the tunnel and almost get to the other side.

Where I was

Lately my insecurities and emotions have been spiraling. I’ve been letting external validation get the better of me more and more. I can openly admit that I am not the most self-assured person, but it was starting to make me make decisions I didn’t even want to make. I kept finding myself in situations where I was unhappy or frustrated because my needs weren’t being met, and I wasn’t bold enough to articulate those needs to the people around me.

My therapist said it’s one step at a time. First, I need to stop showing up the way everyone wants and learn to be okay with being myself. But what does that even mean? Especially when you don’t think people will like it.

It also becomes hard when you feel like no one really wants to build a connection with you, and part of me wondered if that was because I wasn’t really offering who I am.

I was getting triggered constantly, trying my best to self-regulate and self-soothe, trying to be okay with where I was. Rejection, they say, is protection. But how do you articulate to someone where you are, that your needs aren’t being met, when they don’t even want to understand? I just didn’t want to live in a constant state of anxiety, because why was I torturing myself, fr.

The questions I was sitting with

At the time, I didn’t have answers. I just had questions:

What can I put in place to stop assuming, and actually open up without getting attached?

What can I stop doing to avoid creating expectation? Because I think that’s when I get sad, when they let me down. How do I avoid that?

Maybe I’m naive, because everything I know comes from books about love and relationships written by women, from the female perspective. This all just seems way harder than it should be, tbh.

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What showing up for yourself actually means

That entry was long-winded, and honestly a form of escape. But sitting with it now, I think showing up for yourself actually means putting those boundaries down.

In life, things will happen that you don’t like. And especially for those of us who are sensitive and anxious, everything can feel like it’s shaking up your world, your stability, your peace. Why can’t things just happen the way you want, the way you expect? Why do things always turn out so differently?

What I’ve been learning is that at the end of the day, you are the one who has to keep yourself from shaking, no matter what is going on around you. You might want to crumble. You might have the random anxiety attack here and there. But you need to put things in place to keep yourself settled. Put yourself in situations where you know you can be comfortable. Make sure you’re not forcing yourself into dynamics that don’t feel right.

For me, leaning on my hobbies and trying to stay offline has helped. Constantly consuming copious amounts of media tends to make my anxiety worse, so stepping back from it has been its own form of self-regulation.

You need to be grounded enough to allow yourself to feel things without being ruled by them.

And when it comes to love

Honestly, I don’t know. But I think when I meet the right person, with the right dynamic, I’ll be able to open up. And if they still leave, it doesn’t mean you need to get rid of that part of yourself, or make yourself smaller.

If anything, I’ve been working more on my aura and my energy. Making sure that I consistently come across as myself, as who I am, as often as I can.

Consistently showing up and making decisions for myself, even if it means I might feel lonely now or in the near future, because in the long run I will be better for it.

That’s the act. Not a grand gesture, not a glow-up montage. Just choosing yourself, over and over, especially on the days it would be easier not to.

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Are women pink-pilled, or are they just responding to a current social climate?

There’s been a wave of TikToks going around about Jasmine from Love Island UK, specifically about the way she talks to the men she’s coupled up with. Some people have gone as far as calling her attitude, the way she speaks to them, uncomfortable to watch.

Which is interesting, because Jasmine has been one of those islanders the girls can’t help but love. She’s confident, fashionable, a self-assured “girls’ girl” who moves with a level of ease that captures both the audience and the islanders. People were genuinely obsessed with her. Then she started having conflicts with the men she was coupled with, and suddenly the conversation became about how she talks.

And look, I’ll be honest, at times it does come across like she’s talking down to her partners. There’s a sense of you must listen to me and what I have to say. But I initially read that as a familiar character flaw, one that a lot of women fall into. Think Grace Jackson from an earlier season and her snapbacks. Women do this as a kind of shield, a form of protection against how we’re typically treated. So it didn’t strike me as anything deeper than that.

Then the internet decided it was something deeper.

Then the internet said “pink pilled”

I genuinely did not think much of any of this until I started seeing people call Jasmine pink pilled. I had never come across the term before, but you can guess what it means. It’s basically the female equivalent of being red pilled.

And if we want the Google search definition, it is “The “pink pill” is the female equivalent of the manosphere’s “red pill '.”. In femosphere (or womanosphere) discourse.

At first, I thought it was a joke. Then I started having actual conversations about it, and people insisted that yes, women can be pink pilled. The examples they gave were trad wife influencers and narratives in that lane. So my first understanding was that being pink pilled meant being hyper conservative without any real rhyme or reason. The red pill in a dress, essentially.

Except that didn’t entirely make sense to me. Jasmine doesn’t seem conservative at all. She’s a self-proclaimed feminist. So the term must stretch to the other end of the spectrum too, where the problem isn’t appeasing men but hating them. And that’s exactly where the online rhetoric leaned. Think: The Wizard Liz, sprinkle sprinkle content, using men, dating for the bag, men as a resource rather than a partner.

Here’s the part I find genuinely fascinating though: if you dig through Jasmine’s socials, she has actually touched on all of this herself. What it means to be a woman in today’s age, whether we “hate men,” the whole idea of heteropessimism. The internet was diagnosing her with a condition she’d already written about.

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The part where I implicate myself

I think this type of discourse is honestly very organic for women right now, and I can look at my own writing and see it. Several of my articles have, in some way, been a release for my pent-up frustrations towards men. We could even reference my broke men propaganda article directly, which plenty of people disagreed with.

Because as Jasmine says in her video, women are dating our oppressors. That comes with so many nuances, so many feelings and opinions that are hard to navigate, and not everyone will or can agree, because everything we say is shaped entirely by our experiences. I can sympathise with a lot of the “hate men” rhetoric. Honestly, I almost went down that rabbit hole myself. Would I say I’ve been pink pilled? Idk. Up for debate.

Why the term doesn’t hold the same weight

So here’s my actual argument. The pink pill is a much looser term for women than the red pill is for men, because we don’t have the upper hand in these situations. We live in a patriarchy. The so-called pink pill is simply less harmful coming from us, because it is harder for us to actually put men down in any way that materially affects their lives.

The most harmful version of it, I’d say, is reducing men to a single function: provider, caretaker, wallet, and stripping them of any substance or opinion. No one should do that to anyone, because we’re all people at the end of the day.

But so what if a girl talks back to a guy or speaks over him on a reality show? What harm does that really bring in the grand scheme of things, in a system that actually oppresses women, where red pill content has proven to be genuinely harmful to both men and women in far more extreme ways?

A woman being a bit sharp on Love Island is not a movement. It’s a response to the climate.

But yh, that’s my opinion. : )

Credit to phi dang ig post (https://www.instagram.com/p/DaR6lsCgaI-/ ) for inspiring me to write this article

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I’ve been seeing this trend around on Tik Tok, and I loved it so much that it pulled me right out of my uninspired slump and got me writing again sooo…

I’ve always been obsessed with beauty for as long as I can remember, and the older I get, the more obsessed I become. The more engulfed I get in beauty routines, slow routines, and anything I can add to make my routine a little fuller.

But anyway, here’s my beauty maxxing list.

1. Laser.

This will always be number one. For my hairy girls who are tired of the pesky hairs, especially my Igbo girls, laser has saved my life. And honestly, in big cities it’s not as expensive as they make it seem. You do need to be consistent, so I’ll always say budget for it, but it can be done. I stopped doing Brazilian waxes and started doing Brazilian laser and I’m never going back. No more ingrowns, no more itching. Love it. (Thérapie Clinic when I’m in London, Bared Monkey in New York.)

2. Nails.

I’m pretty sure I wrote this in my “things I find incredibly chic” list, but I always have a pedicure or a manicure. I’m not saying kill off your nails with constant gels and acrylics. My mum started doing this thing called BIAB, which is amazing and lets your nails grow even with polish on. But just having well-manicured nails makes you show up as more put-together.

3. Teeth whitening.

I got this done professionally at the dentist, and it was one of the best decisions ever. Would highly recommend.

4. Botox lol.

I think everyone should get Botox. Controversial, yes, but I did masseter Botox and I can’t wait until I can get it done again. Sometimes you can just do something small (again, only if it’s within your budget) and it actually makes your skin clearer too.

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5. Facials.

Get your facials, y’all. Sometimes you just need a deep, amazing cleanse. Skincare alone doesn’t always cut it, and you need to do a bit more. I have acne-prone skin, so this is something I try to do at least 3 to 4 times a year: get a professional facial done to keep the acne at bay.

6. Vitamins, supplements, and doctor checkups.

Health is wealth, pookies! Please stay on it. Magnesium, sea moss, multivitamins! Probiotics and prebiotics are your friends. As they say, beauty starts from within.

7. Dry cleaning, and iron your damn clothes.

Need I say more? I don’t know, this generation needs to go back to knowing how to take care of our clothes.

8. Move that body.

Physicality and flexibility are so important. I didn’t realise how important flexibility was until I started doing pole and saw how stiff I was in so many areas of my body. But then I realised that the more I moved, the better I felt, not just physically, but in how I carried myself. It all feeds back into the same thing.

9. Mental maxxing.

Read books! Absorb knowledge, no matter the genre you like. Gain as much information as you can across every area of your life. Beauty maxxing was never just about the outside.

10. Gua Sha and Body Detoxing.

I regularly try to use steam rooms or saunas, as you need to get all those toxins out of your body. It helps you feel less bloated and look less bloated, and overall just helps with the overall health of your skin.

11. No Snacking.

Again, it might be controversial, but I don't actually snack on snacks. I usually just eat fruit, or I'll only have my main meals. As someone prone to bloating, I think this has really helped me feel better in myself. I also just don't like a lot of snacks generally, and it helps me cut down on cravings too.

12. Two out of Three Rule

I believe in always making sure you’ve got at least two of three things sorted: your hair done, your face really snatched (whether that’s skincare or makeup), or a really cute outfit. As long as you’ve got two of the three, you’ll always look put together. And looking put together is the guide to feeling good. When you feel good, Life is good.

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there is a specific kind of grief that doesn't announce itself. it doesn't arrive with crying or collapse, it arrives quietly, through the way a memory replays, slightly differently each time, like a story being told to fill a silence that will never fully go away. My Father's Shadow understands this completely. - well I can only imagine that the feeling reflects how this movie was made :) 

the film is told through the perspective of two brothers, and that choice matters. children don't process grief the way adults do , they don't have the language for it yet, so instead they carry it in their bodies, in the things they notice, in the moments they can't stop replaying. watching the story unfold through their eyes gives the film a kind of emotional honesty that a more straightforward adult narrative wouldn't have. grief here isn't explained. it's just felt.

layered underneath all of this is nigeria's history during that period , and the film doesn't treat it as backdrop. it's woven into the fabric of the family, into the weight the father carries, into the world the boys are inheriting. it contextualises the grief without over-explaining it.

the scenes that stay with you

two scenes in particular haven't left me. the first is the father in the ocean with his oldest son, telling him to protect his brother. on the surface it reads as a father passing down responsibility. but there's something in the way it's staged — the water, the weight of it , that makes it feel less like advice and more like a goodbye. the kind you only recognise as a goodbye after the fact.

the second is set in a near-abandoned amusement park, where a groundskeeper tells the father to go home and tell his wife he loves her , to show her how much he appreciates her. something he regretted not doing before his own wife died. he then tells him to pass that same message to his wife when he sees her. it's the kind of line that lands softly at first, until you sit with it and realise , this man is dead. the film has been telling us this whole time, quietly, in the way only memory can.

what we're really watching

My Father's Shadow never confirms the theory. it doesn't need to. the more you watch, the more you understand that what we might be witnessing was never really the present , just a memory we're only now catching up to. a story the boys have told themselves so many times it has taken on its own texture, its own light.

that's what the film is ultimately about, i think. not just the loss of a father, but the way memory becomes a form of keeping someone alive. the stories we hold onto, slightly changed each time we revisit them, because to let them go completely would be to lose the person all over again.

grief isn't just sadness. it's the stories we keep telling ourselves about the people we lost, trying to hold onto them a little longer.

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“You do not want friends!, You want people to make the hierarchy of your world to make sense to you.”

“You are hard-wired to exploit people’s personalities.”

“Whatever Genetic Blame game It does not absolve you from how you choose to act now.”

“A fucking sex object and a victim that you conveniently bounce between when it suits you.”

This has to be one of the best and most dynamic scenes from the entire series of Industry. If I could summarise the show in one sentence, it’s about young people trying to make it in a brutal industry while also trying to find themselves in the process.

But honestly? What I love most about Industry is that its characters aren’t just characters. They feel like exaggerations of the worst parts of us. The parts we recognise in ourselves and in people we know but rarely say out loud. And I think that’s exactly why the show works so well, and why I find myself genuinely obsessed with it.

The self is made. The self is created.

At the centre of Industry are two characters: Yasmin and Harper. And to me, they represent two fundamentally different ways of moving through the world.

Harper represents those who believe the self is made ; people who try to carve their own path, overcoming the obstacles of class, background, and institutional barriers to become powerful in their own capacity. Think Eric and people like him.

Yasmin represents someone who believes the self is created, someone born into privilege with the world seemingly at their beck and call, yet constantly seeking affirmation from it. Instead of discovering her own value, she waits for someone else to tell her she’s special. Think Henry.

What Industry does so well is explore the tension between privilege and self-creation while also forcing its characters to confront their own trauma and limitations. Some characters leave the industry and find something better suited for them. Others become consumed by their worst habits. And some simply fail upwards until the consequences finally catch up to them.

There’s a TikToker/substacker I watch who says something I’ve always found interesting and something I also personally believe in: the world is divided into two brackets, those who believe the self is made and those who believe the self is created.

Watching Industry, I kept thinking about that idea. And what makes the show so compelling to me is that Harper and Yasmin don’t just represent two personality types, they represent two very real tendencies in human nature. The pull toward building yourself versus waiting to be built. And both of those tendencies, taken to their extreme, become their own kind of destruction.

And like all good writing, the show allows you to see parts of yourself in the characters. I’m not saying I’m like them, but it becomes easier to understand why they make the decisions they do.

Yasmin: waiting to be found necessary

Let’s start with Yasmin.

“Oh dear Yasmin… pathetic attention-seeking whore. Well, don’t blame her for the sins of her father. She’s unbelievable.”

When we first meet Yasmin, she’s someone trying desperately to be respected; trying to be necessary. But with each season, that attempt fails more and more. People can’t seem to see past her lack of technical ability, her insecurity, or the fact that she constantly undermines herself.

It feels like she is always searching for validation.

And when she’s presented with the opportunity to choose someone who genuinely values her, someone who truly sees her, she doesn’t take it. Instead, she gravitates back toward hierarchy and privilege, choosing systems that reinforce the same power structures that have always defined her.

That’s why she feels like someone who believes the self is created. She waits for validation instead of building it herself. And this mostly stems from the awful sexual trauma the show alludes to, which she most likely experienced from her own father.

Then by the end of season four, when Yasmin finally has the chance to make a decision entirely on her own terms, she ends up settling back into the very system that ruined her life in the first place. It’s almost as if she refuses to learn from the past. We end with her playing a voice note from her father lying on the floor as she has a slow panic attack, and I think the scene represents how she is refusing to overcome, or even accept, her trauma.

I tried to understand Yasmin. I really did. But with each season, it became harder.

This scene reveals everything about the environment that shaped her. And yet, even after that moment, she continues falling deeper into unresolved trauma instead of confronting it. She continues to feed into the same system, transferring her trauma to a new and different scenario where she will still not be found necessary.

To me, Yasmin is the most tragic character in the show. Not because bad things happen to her, but because she keeps choosing them. She’s the version of us that mistakes familiarity for safety, even when the familiar thing is exactly what’s hurting us.

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Harper: necessary at any cost

Then there’s Harper.

Someone who clearly believes the self is made.

And I’ll say something slightly controversial and stand on my ten toes when I say: I never disliked Harper. In fact, when I rewatched the show, I felt even more sympathetic towards her.

She just wanted validation from her mother and her brother. She wanted to prove she was the best.

In season two, Harper’s twin brother looks her in the eye and calls her a sociopath, the most selfish person he’s ever met, before calling her a narcissist.

And yes, Harper is selfish. But that ambition seems rooted in the trauma of her upbringing. Her mother created an environment where success was the only acceptable outcome. So Harper internalised that. To her, worth and usefulness are the same thing.

That’s likely where her relentless need to prove herself to Eric comes from, to prove that she deserves to be there. And in return, Harper becomes one of the only people Eric can genuinely respect and feel proud of.

Harper is ruthless, but she’s ruthless with purpose.

It’s also obvious that she’s deeply lonely. Harper rarely talks about her personal life or family, whereas Yasmin is almost entirely defined by hers. The difference is that Harper doesn’t use her history as an excuse; she uses it as fuel.

That doesn’t mean it’s healthy. Not at all.

Harper even admits to Kwabena that anyone she gets close to eventually leaves. And that kind of experience makes it difficult to truly trust people.

Even in season three, when Harper says “no unilateral decisions” to Petra, you can see that beneath all the ambition, she’s craving intimacy. She wants to be seen. She wants to feel whole; she wants a partnership. Which she tries to find in Eric, who still inevitably leaves her.

Even the short-only fund she builds with Eric hints at that complexity. She tries to create something that both generates profit and holds companies accountable, a kind of white-knight model where responsibility and capitalism coexist. “Both/And.”

Both/And

Which speaks to something Industry constantly reminds us of: two things can be true at the same time.

Harper can be ruthless and still human. She can be ambitious and still lonely. Yasmin can always be surrounded and still lonely. Yasmin can be intelligent but incapable.

This is what I mean when I say these characters feel like exaggerations of the worst of us. They’re not villains. They’re just people in whom very recognisable human traits, the need for validation, the fear of being ordinary, the inability to sit with pain, have been dialled up to their most extreme conclusion. And watching them play out against each other, against the system, against themselves, is genuinely some of the best character writing on TV right now.

Listen to the argument scene here

In the end, I think everyone wants to feel necessary.

But the question is how we try to become necessary.

Industry shows that the paths we take, whether shaped by privilege, ambition, trauma, or resilience, eventually lead back to the same place. Ourselves. Sometimes we find our way there on our own terms. And sometimes the world drills it into you whether you’re ready or not.

And that’s the hardest part.

Looking inward. Being honest about who you are. And deciding whether you’ll continue repeating the systems that shaped you or finally choose something different.

That’s what makes Industry so compelling. It’s not really about finance or banking. It’s about identity, survival, and the uncomfortable truth that most times the person standing in the way of your growth is yourself.

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But after a while, that mindset gets exhausting. When you’ve tried a lot of the things you once thought you needed to do, you start to realise that not everything deserves your energy. The excitement wears off. The pressure stops feeling motivating and starts feeling unnecessary. I don’t feel pulled by hype anymore. I just want things to feel a bit quieter for once.

That’s why this year feels different. I’m not trying to do more or become more. I’m trying to slow down and be more intentional about where I place myself, my time, and my effort. I want to focus on what actually brings me joy, not what looks impressive or feels like the “right” next move.

I feel like a few people know the book A Year of Rest and Relaxation. Which is basically about the main character trying to sleep away through the year because she’s depressed. Complete detachment. And while the title resonates with me slightly, “obviously because it is the title head of this article” , that’s not what I’m aiming for lol. I’m not trying to numb myself or sleep through my problems. This isn’t about checking out of my life. It’s more about not taking everything so seriously and allowing myself to exist without constant pressure.

Originally, I thought this would be a very typical “new year” article. Something about ringing in 2026, resetting, recouping, starting fresh. But I didn’t find that framing inspiring. What actually pushed this idea forward was watching Monet McMichael’s 21 Hotter and realising that I’ve been doing something similar without fully naming it. I’ve been using this month to slowly implement routines I want to carry through the year and ideally, into my everyday life.

I also came across a TikTok that talked about a cultural swing back towards discipline by , and that really stuck with me, mainly because it is interesting in an era of automation and ease, you can really distinguish yourself by how disciplined you are to do the not-so-easy things: que trends such as 75 hard, 21 hotter…. Because this year isn’t about relaxing in a “soft girl” way. It’s not about switching off or doing nothing. It’s more about finding out who I am when I don’t put so much pressure on myself to perform, achieve, or live up to certain expectations.

I want to know who I am when I’m not forcing things. When I’m not constantly asking what I should be doing. When I’m just living and choosing based on what feels natural to me.

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I’m tired of living in a constant state of overthinking or quiet self-criticism. I don’t want to move through life as if something is always wrong or missing. I just want to be myself, without turning that into a problem to solve.

Naturally, this has led me back to things I’ve always been drawn to: self-care, beauty, and wellness. These are things I already do in pieces. Gua sha. Regular pedicures and facials. Sauna sessions. Detoxing. Lymphatic drainage. Waist training. Going to the gym. But I’ve never been fully consistent with any of it. I’ve always let other things get in the way.

So in my year of rest and relaxation, I’m choosing to go deeper into my health and wellness journey. Not in an extreme or performative way, but in a grounded one. I already have a clear reason for wanting to feel stronger and healthier, and having that bigger picture has helped everything feel more aligned. Nothing feels random anymore.

As part of this, I’ve been following my own version of 21 Hotter each month.

Here’s what I’m focusing on:

Putting myself first.
I’ve always struggled with this. I used to be a big people pleaser, and I think I lost parts of myself because of it. This year, I want to feel unapologetic about my choices and more connected to who I actually am.

1. Working on my fitness.
   I’ve been doing pole and personal training, and posting about pole feels like a way to keep myself accountable. I’m excited to see what happens if I actually commit and give myself time to improve.

2. Focusing on health and maintenance.
   This is about the everyday things. Keeping my space organised. Washing my brushes. Staying on top of laundry. Keeping my routines consistent. Treating maintenance as a form of self-respect rather than something optional.

3. Building and strengthening my relationships.
   I’m still learning how to show up for people. Sometimes I find it draining, and sometimes I avoid it altogether. But I want to get better at showing up, even when it’s inconvenient, and making it clear to the people in my life that I care about them.

4. Learning and fostering self-love.
   My therapist told me that I rely heavily on external validation, and she’s not wrong. This year, I want to slowly move away from that. Not by forcing confidence, but by building a life where I don’t constantly need reassurance to feel okay.

5. Fostering Emotional Disciple
   This might be the hardest one for me to conquer, but basically, I don’t want to focus on not feeding into my obsessions. I saw a TikTok from @kikstarsomers that basically explained the importance of restraint when you get emotionally anxious or uncomfortable. Don’t check that story 100 times to see who viewed it, or re-read old text messages to see how you came across. Having the foresight to sit still, not be reactive, process, and take a step back, and not do things like drunk-texting that boy to come over when you’re feeling alone.

: )

But this isn’t really a movie review. This is about the idea underneath the film, the rise of “broke man propaganda,” especially in the same cultural moment where that viral article “Having a Boyfriend Is Now Embarrassing” is circulating like gospel. It all got me thinking deeper about the narratives being pushed at women. What romance is supposed to look like. What we’re supposed to accept. How low the bar keeps being dragged.

I’m not shy about commentary on men; you can see that all over my Substack. Because the truth is, we are living in a time where women are collectively struggling to find competent partners. My friends and I are literally a group of talented, ambitious, brilliant women… and yet so many of us are noticeably, chronically single. And not because we want to be. So you start looking around and wondering: how is this our reality?

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Then you turn on a film like Materialists, and it’s selling a fantasy where a woman is meant to choose a low-value man in the name of “love”, as if stability, competence, emotional awareness, or ambition are suddenly elitist demands. As if asking for a man who can meet you where you are is unreasonable. As if being a “nice girl” is the problem, instead of men who are actually incompetent.

The disconnect is jarring, both in these narratives and in real society. What is a girl supposed to do? Write about it, apparently. Because honestly, having a boyfriend does feel embarrassing sometimes. Not because relationships are inherently embarrassing, but because so many men are adding nothing, not materially, not emotionally, not spiritually. But we’re still being told that intimacy alone should be enough.

And here’s the sad part: I’m not even cynical. Not really. It’s all so deeply sad because underneath all of this, everyone, men and women, is craving intimacy. It’s even worse when you finally get a taste of it. Suddenly, your brain starts tricking you into settling, into accepting crumbs, into believing scarcity lies. But I refuse. Writing these essays has become my way of processing the frustration. And every time, I feel myself getting steadier, more self-assured.

Because if you’re associating with a low-value man? Honestly, it is embarrassing. What’s the point, intimacy? Validation? Veneer of partnership? A man being “obsessed” with you is not a flex if he has nothing else to offer. Some men will want you, see you, and actually love you, without dragging your standards through the mud.

The Ongoing Emotional Pivot

“I’ve been circling the same emotional terrain,” is really the only way to describe it. Writing about men. Writing about how they’ve made me feel unseen, unloved, or even erased. Late-night scrolling, the glow of my phone on my face, reading essays like The Price of Being Wanted or On Intimacy… letting their words echo through me.
Do they want me?
Does it matter?
Am I the problem for wanting to be chosen?

That loop felt like emotional quicksand.

My slow realisation didn’t come from a self-help quote or a TikTok therapist. It came casually, in my apartment, during a conversation with my roommate. She said it felt strange for men to go out without the intent of meeting women. I argued back, Why should men centre women at all?

But the thought lodged somewhere deeper:
We are conditioned to orbit men, even though most men rarely orbit us.

If men can centre themselves unapologetically… why can’t I?

And that became the pivot:

I don’t owe men anything. And they don’t owe me either.
I’m done pouring energy into people who can’t reciprocate. I’m done contorting myself to be chosen. The number of reach-outs and over-explanations for nothing in return, but the obviousness that these men do not care about me.

Becca Bloom put it perfectly when she described the paradox of attraction:
“It’s about constraint — the more you say, the more you give away, and the more leverage they have over you.”

It hurts because it’s true. Especially for lover-girls like us, women who crave to be seen so deeply that romance makes us abandon the boundaries we hold everywhere else in our lives.

So what am I actually going to apply?

Learn how to have fun with it and learn how to step away once it doesn't serve you anymore, and more importantly, seek connections where they actually seem interested in you as a person and not just superficial attributes.
Enjoy whatever attention comes your way, but hold out for what actually sustains you.

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The first season, in particular, captures the essence of young love—the yearning, the innocence, the simplicity. I was growing up right alongside the characters, so their world felt like a mirror to mine. Their lack of complications, the privilege of focusing only on what’s right in front of them, made it so easy to connect. To be jealous of your prettier friend. To figure out who you are in the summer. To fight for independence for the very first time.

Watching it felt like stepping into their lives. I wasn’t just observing the story unfold; I could feel it. It was almost like I was living inside the show itself.

As the show went on, the narrative started to shift. People began framing it as simply Jeremiah vs. Conrad, even though that’s not really what the story was meant to be. Because of that, I started to feel disillusioned. The focus slowly morphed into what felt like The Belly Conklin Show.

Belly’s flaws; her greed, her spoiled tendencies, her indecisiveness; kept coming to the forefront. I couldn’t tell if that was amplified by the rivalry between the brothers or just how the show chose to frame her. This isn’t the first time TV has given us a love triangle with two brothers. The Vampire Diaries did it with Elena, Stefan, and Damon. But what made that dynamic work was that Elena never came across as greedy or torn for no reason. When she was with one brother, she was unapologetically with him. On top of that, the show gave us real insight into Stefan and Damon’s complicated brotherly bond, making their triangle layered and human. In contrast, in The Summer I Turned Pretty, the brothers sometimes felt like they weren’t even raised in the same household.

By the time I watched the finale of the latest season, I wasn’t excited or heartbroken—I was underwhelmed. It felt like we had gone in circles, through all this drama, only to land right back at the same point. Maybe it’s just me growing more and more disillusioned with the series, but the payoff didn’t feel worth the build-up.

Belly became Isabella only to circle right back to being Belly again. Jeremiah never got the justice he deserved for all the nonsense he went through, and Conrad never really faced the consequences of his narcissistic behaviour. As I grew older, it felt like the characters didn’t grow with me. They remained stuck; just as desperate as ever, still fighting for a love that often felt questionable in the first place. And sure, I get that fans wanted the ending to stay faithful to the books, with Bonrad as endgame. But when you actually watch the show, does that really make sense for the story being told?

So what am I really trying to say here? As much as I love teen romance shows and movies, the best ones work because there’s always some deeper truth grounding the story. The Summer I Turned Pretty seemed to forget that along the way, choosing instead to play it safe and serve its fanbase. And that’s where it lost me, because good writing doesn’t just cater, it challenges. This series could have been so much more. That said, I’ll definitely still be tuning in for the upcoming movie.

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Late to this trend, but here are a few things I just find cute and incredibly authentically chic on people.

1. Cute bedding and sheets with tassels

Something about this just screams “put together.” If your bedroom is aesthetic, you’re probably aesthetic. And there are so many good, affordable options on Wayfair and Amazon, and some cute ones on Urban Outfitters as well. 😉

2. Red or pink nails

I’ve fully bought into the propaganda that we should all, as a collective, have well-kept nails. They don’t need to be done all the time, but when they are? A good pink or red polish just goes with everything—classy, chic, and timeless.

3. Slicked-back hair or natural hair (relaxed, curly, or coily)

I love all hairstyles—braids, wigs, whatever—but there’s something so beautiful about women in their natural hair, especially when it’s styled well. My own hair is relaxed, and when it’s freshly curled, I feel like it frames my face perfectly.

4. A bag that complements an outfit

Every outfit needs a bag. From the Alo tote to the Trader Joe’s grocery bag to a Chanel purse—bonus points if it matches your nails or a piece of clothing.

5. Louboutins

Nothing else to say. Red bottoms will forever be a part of our fashion culture.

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6. Baggy jeans with a cool top

The universal outfit. Dress it up, dress it down. Pair with a crop top, button-up, or bikini top—instant outfit upgrade.

7. A clean MacBook/laptop

A clean MacBook is just… chic. No notes.

8. Gold jewellery
Stacked or simple, gold jewellery on Black or African skin is unmatched.

9. Diamond earrings

Instantly makes you look expensive.

10. Cute sweaters

The right sweater can make an outfit interesting and well put together. I love finding mine at & Other Stories—pricey, but worth it.

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Bonus!:

Makeup ,I love a bare face, but a well-done makeup look can pull everything together so seamlessly.

What that experience did to me, though, is what I’ve spent years unravelling. Without even realising it, I became a consistent performer and a people pleaser. Always trying to shape-shift into the most likable, palatable version of myself, especially at school and around my peers. I remember this one moment so vividly; it still haunts me. I had started changing how I acted just to fit in. One of the girls was calling me to do something, and I heard her say under her breath, “If you ask Chimdi to do something, she always will.” I remember the sinking feeling in my chest. Like… they knew. They knew I was performing. That my smile, my eagerness, my presence wasn’t fully mine. That mask I had carefully crafted had slipped, and I couldn’t unhear it, and 7 years later I still can’t.

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Who was I when I wasn’t performing? When I wasn’t trying to be wanted, beautiful, or useful? I didn’t have an answer then, and sometimes, I still don’t.

Ironically, what pulled me out of this cycle was when a group of my close friends stopped liking me, just like that. And none of them tried to ask how I felt or what was going on with me. I always felt like I was never the most liked anyway, always the one slightly outside the circle, always judged somewhat. And the more I tried to be accepted, the more I shrank. It crept into how I carried myself, how I presented online, and how I showed up in rooms. Who was I if I wasn’t desirable? Who was I if I wasn’t chosen?

Social media made this worse. It’s this never-ending performance loop. If I’m not beautiful, desirable, or relevant, do I even matter? Caitlyn’s video referenced a quote about the “internalisation of the gaze,” and I felt that deeply when you are both the actor and the audience. When you can’t rest because you’re constantly watching yourself, judging yourself, and editing yourself in real-time. It becomes exhausting. And yet somehow, you still have to look put together. Beautiful. Lit from the right angle. At the very least, they can say I’m pretty.

I used to have restless sleep. Still do sometimes. I’m always on. Always trying to develop myself, fix myself, outgrow the version that wasn’t enough. But I never let myself be still. I couldn’t. Who am I really, without the pressure to be better? Without the fear of being left behind?

There’s a quote from Baudrillard that Caitlyn mentions about how we’re no longer performing real things, just copies of copies of copies. That hit me like a brick. I can feel that in the way I talk, walk, pose, and even exist. I don’t even know if the original version of me exists anymore or if she ever did.

Lately, I’ve started making conscious choices. I talk less. Entertain less. Sit in silence more. It still feels uncomfortable, even painful. I still feel like the one left out of the group photo, the one walking behind, the one there but not quite included. But at least now, I can say I’m trying to be true to myself, as close as I know how.

My insecurities still bleed through. But at the very least, I’m aware of them. I see the cracks, and I no longer rush to patch them up. I don’t know if I’ll ever be fully free from this internal performance, but I’m finally learning how to pause. I want to ask myself not what’s expected of me but what I want.

And maybe that’s at least something.

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Lately, I’ve been deep in life advice videos—maybe too deep. I came across a Dose of Society clip with Tiwa Savage, and something she said stuck with me:

“There’s no manual for life.”

And wow. That’s exactly how it feels right now.
I’ve been learning what I actually like. What I actually want. What I don’t want. Just watching myself grow into the version of me that’s less afraid to explore, try, fail, and try again.

I’m giving myself the next two months to just get settled. To ease into this next era. And I’m also trying not to hyper-focus on the fear of being seen. Like really being seen—publicly trying. Vulnerably. Because as much as I love creating, there’s still this weird fear of visibility that I’m learning to shed.

But I’m also inspired. My friend is on this “100 Days to 10K Followers” journey on TikTok. So I thought, why not do my own version? I’m calling it 100 Days to 1K Subscribers.
Right now, I’ve got about 700 followers on here, but only 500 subscribers. So if you’re reading this and you’re not subscribed yet... girl, what are you doing? Hit that button, please. Let’s grow this thing together.

I also really wish Substack gave more insight into audience demographics—like who’s actually reading. But maybe part of this next chapter is learning to trust the impact without obsessing over the numbers.

Anyway, all this reflecting got me thinking about the version of me who started college. So here’s the advice I’d give her. The things I wish someone told me. My little survival guide.

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To My Freshman Self: A Note From the Other Side

1. Make your space yours.
Your room isn’t just where you sleep—it’s your sanctuary. I didn’t even realise how vital this was until I had to share a room freshman year (ugh). That experience made me understand how much I need my own space and peace to feel grounded. Be intentional. Decorate it how you like. Light the candles. Hang the photos. Make it feel like you.

2. Get involved (but don’t overthink it).
Try everything at first. Go to the events. Join the clubs. Be in the group chats (even if you mute them later). You’ll naturally figure out what sticks and what doesn’t. Getting involved helped me grow in so many ways—from learning how to deal with people who don’t pull their weight, to figuring out how to manage my time and energy. The key is to just start.

3. Know that sacrifices are coming.
You’re gonna have to choose. And choosing one thing will sometimes mean saying no to another. That’s life. Don’t feel bad for protecting your energy or deciding not to do what everyone else is doing. Not everything is meant for you, and that’s fine.

4. You don’t need a friend group.
This one took a while. But I’ve realised I’m not a “group chat” person—and honestly, that’s okay. I’ve had little friend groups here and there, but they never stuck. What did stick was learning how to enjoy my own company. Moving across the world for school made me realise how much I relied on my parents and family emotionally. Being far from them made me grow up in the best way. I became my own person.

5. Use your school’s resources.
The gym. The tech. The studios. All of it. Please, use them. Because after graduation? Access to all that doesn’t come as easily. I promise you’ll miss having it.

6. Find the experience that changes everything.
For me, it was the summer after sophomore year—my first internship in NYC. That whole season felt like a breakdown and a breakthrough wrapped into one. I was re-learning who I was, what I liked, what I wanted, and how I lived. It was like pressing reset on everything.
If you can, push yourself into a new experience. One that shakes your world up a bit. It’s uncomfortable, but that’s where the magic happens. That’s when the real growth kicks in.

So yeah, that’s where I’m at.
Here’s to 100 days of choosing myself. Of building the life I want, one day at a time.

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And if you’ve got advice for your younger self, drop it in the comments. I’d love to hear.

I rarely share my innermost thoughts online; airing my vulnerabilities isn’t something I’m accustomed to, but after reading Simbuli’s recent Substack essay, “What does it mean to move through life as a woman who is admired, desired, but never kept?”, “I felt compelled to organise my own reflections on Anora and my experiences with relationships.

From my very first viewing of the movie, I unhesitantly empathised with Anora. I fell for her and Vanya, and I rooted for their relationship to blossom. Even knowing it began as a transactional arrangement, where Vanya paid Anora for companionship and sex, I found myself hoping for something real to emerge between them. When he proposed in Las Vegas, I felt her momentary hesitation, echoing my own doubts. I couldn’t help but wonder: could this be genuine? Was it possible for something authentic to grow from such a fantasy? I questioned whether it was all a joke or if, against all odds, he was truly serious.

On the surface, their whirlwind life looked exhilarating—champagne fizzing, vivid colours, fireworks; the electric thrill of newlywed highs. I rode that wave with them. I wanted Anora to seize a chance at a better life, even if Vanya, with his wealth and privilege, was hardly the ideal partner. Surely he cared for her in some way beyond mere convenience and fun? I rode that high with them—the thrill of a spontaneous wedding, their laughter echoing through the scenes, the promise of a new life for Ani. How could I not hope that this was her turning point? Perhaps Vanya’s wealth wasn’t just a shield for frivolity, but a hope he could offer her everything she’d been denied.

But then I watched the movie again…

With fresh eyes, Vanya’s indifference became impossible to ignore. He never truly saw Anora; he only saw the idea of her. When Anora tries to bring up the topic of meeting each other's parents, I thought he’d listen. Instead, he shifted topics so quickly that I barely caught the change. His responses were indifferent, delivered as if he were simply responding to background conversation rather than a man discovering the woman lying beside him. When his guardians arrive to take him back to Russia, he actually RUNS—leaving her behind as if the entire engagement were a game rather than a promise.

It struck me that Vanya’s self-centredness, his emotional immaturity, and his immunity to consequence are the very things that drew me in. He’s a spoiled child whose parents have always cleaned up his messes. The scene when Garnik and Igor are talking ( his guardians ) plays in my mind. They secretly whisper under their breath about a Kool-Aid incident as they wait for Ivan’s parents' jet to land—the millions spent on repairs that he probably wasn’t even aware of! It was in that moment I saw he’d never faced real consequences, never felt responsibility, never known the weight of caring for someone else’s heart.

By the time the private jet scene arrived, my heart was breaking. Vanya tells Ani, "And thank you for making my last trip to America soo fun." Ani, standing there as Igor looms behind her, attempts to evoke any remaining emotion from Vanya by asking, “Yhhh you had fun?” Vanya promptly replies, “Yh, Lets go!,” before turning away. In his indifference, I recognized every man who has loved only the surface of me. I remembered every man who valued only the shiny, performative version of me—the Ani with tinsel in her hair and knee-high boots, not the raw, unguarded woman who ached for genuine intimacy.

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Igor ?..

Then came Igor, who at first seemed the counterpoint. He noticed her bare-faced vulnerability, offered her a scarf when she shivered, and asked Vanya to apologise. He liked Anora more than Ani : ). I longed to believe he was the one who would truly see her. But online discussions reminded me: basic human decency—listening, noticing, is not the stuff of grand romance novels. It’s simply the minimum we owe one another as humans. He certainly still liked her, but nothing about what he was doing was deserving of the best “man award.” He simply just treated her like a person! And still, that contrast lingered with me. Was I so jaded that I mistook his kindness for romance ??? When did I last feel seen by someone I loved? I know my friends know my favourite songs or my childhood dreams, but the people I’ve pursued romantically rarely extend the same courtesy. It’s exhausting, performing for attention, fearing that if I let my guard down, if I underperform, I’ll vanish from their gaze altogether. I’ve never really lacked attention from men, but it can feel draining when all that attention is futile and meaningless. They only want access, never the real you!

Watching Anora break down in the car, lashing out at Igor’s hesitant kiss, I felt that raw, desperate cry for authentic intimacy, not just physical closeness, but the kind that needs no script. In that moment, being truly seen felt like chasing a mirage.

And yet, despite everything, a stubborn hope remains. Beneath the disappointments lies a belief that real intimacy exists—that someone will look beyond the performance and see me: whole, unfiltered, worthy of love. Perhaps my destiny isn’t to find a storybook romance. Maybe I’ll end up with someone who simply provides and does exactly what’s expected. But I’ll keep fighting for love that I read in my romance novels—natural, unforced, true. In the end, that’s why Anora resonated so deeply with me. It held up a mirror to my own search for someone who desires not just the glittering surface, but the person beneath it all 💔.

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buymeacoffee. : )

Before diving in, I want to quickly say thank you for sticking with me through my inconsistent blogging. I’ve also been working on a new series that I’m super excited about—more on that soon! But for now, let’s get into it.

The Shift Toward a More Conservative Aesthetic

It’s not just a feeling there’s been a tangible shift toward conservative aesthetics and ideals, particularly post-2021, after the peak of TikTok’s influence and the COVID-19 pandemic. Trends have gradually moved in this direction, reflecting broader cultural and political shifts. Consider the following:

• The rise (and endurance) of the ‘mild-maid’ dress aesthetic

• Influencers like Nara Smith and Ballerina Farm gaining traction

• The Clean Girl trend dominating beauty and fashion

• The ‘stay-at-home girlfriend’ phenomenon taking over social media

• The resurgence of ‘Sprinkle Sprinkle’ ideology (hypergamy and traditional gender roles)

• The increasing political shift in the U.S. toward the right

• The explosion of Red Pill content targeting young men

• The Quiet Luxury trend (think Succession-core, old-money aesthetics)

• People actually wearing blazers to the club now??

And then there’s the rise of spiritual and Christian content. As a Christian, I’ve noticed an increase in influencers rebranding themselves as religious or adopting faith-based messaging.

But what’s really happening here? It’s not groundbreaking—it’s just another pendulum swing. The early 2010s through the beginning of the 2020s were defined by maximalism: DIY culture, dance challenges, the ‘girlboss’ movement, full-glam makeup, bright colours, and a strong sense of liberal dominance. During that era, being anything but liberal was seen as uncool or even unacceptable. Social movements like BLM and other global protests were widely supported and embraced, whether authentically or performatively.

But as with all trends, change is inevitable. We don’t do moderation—we swing from one extreme to the other. When culture leans too far in one direction, the natural response is to rebel and pivot. The political and social climate globally has only heightened this push toward ideological extremes.

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Why Is Gen Z Leaning Into Conservative Aesthetics?

Here’s the real question: if Gen Z is often characterised as the ‘progressive’ generation, why are we seeing so many young people gravitating toward conservative aesthetics and content?

The answer is simple: social media.

We are the first generation to grow up fully immersed in technology, algorithms, and hyper-capitalism. The consequences? Isolation, burnout, and a general feeling of being overworked with little to show for it. Unlike previous generations, we don’t have the same financial stability or opportunities—life is expensive, wages are stagnant, and a 9-to-5 isn’t the guaranteed pathway to comfort that it once was.

This explains why:

• Women are embracing the ‘Clean Girl’ aesthetic (fewer products, simpler routines, less spending)

• The ‘stay-at-home girlfriend’ fantasy has gained traction—many young women are romanticising a life where they don’t have to hustle just to survive

• Hyper-feminine, homemaker aesthetics (Nara Smith, Ballerina Farm) are on the rise as an escape from economic realities

• People are engaging more with conservative-leaning influencers because they present an alternative to the current grind culture

We are a generation constantly online, obsessed with trends, and susceptible to aesthetic movements. For many, this shift isn’t necessarily ideological—it’s aesthetic. It’s about craving stability, nostalgia, and a time (real or imagined) when things were easier.

The Great Aesthetic War

Take The New Yorker’s recent cover, for example. I listened to a podcast BY Matt Bernstein  (who I love) where a guest broke it down (she attended the event). At first glance, it looks like a conservative gathering of wealthy white kids, but if you dig deeper, it’s actually a performance. These young people are cosplaying a past they never lived, wearing Shein dresses meant to mimic elite vintage gowns. And that, in itself, is fascinating.

Most Trump supporters and right-leaning individuals today aren’t part of the elite—they’re working-class people clinging to an America that no longer exists. Trump, more than anything, sells nostalgia. And people are buying into it because they want to believe in a version of the past where they had more, could afford more, and didn’t have to struggle as much.

But—there’s always an opposing force. Look at the resurgence of:

• Bratz-core and hyper-glam femininity

• 2010s aesthetics (low-rise Diesel jeans, Dsquared2’s viral runway show)

• The Pop Girl era, with artists like Doechii and Sabrina Carpenter bringing back fun, unapologetic self-expression

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There’s a clear ideological and aesthetic battle at play. One side seeks refuge in tradition, safety, and ‘simpler times.’ The other fights back with maximalism, self-expression, and liberal ideals. And at the core of all this? Our economic reality.

At the end of the day, we are reacting to the world around us. Aesthetic trends and political leanings reflect our struggles, fears, and desires. Right now, everyone is looking for something to hold onto—whether it’s a past that never existed or a future that feels just out of reach.

So yeah, that’s my long-winded take. What do you guys think?

Colourism in hip-hop isn’t new. It’s been a shadow lurking in the industry for decades, sometimes subtle, sometimes blatant, but always present. As conversations around racism and discrimination become more mainstream, it’s become impossible to ignore how these biases show up in music, especially when it comes to Black women.

For years, lighter-skinned women have been pushed to the forefront of the industry, granted more opportunities, and positioned as the ‘face’ of hip-hop. They land the magazine covers, the brand deals, the prime-time slots. Even in the video vixen era, the women cast as leads in rap videos often fit a Eurocentric beauty standard.

And when a dark-skinned woman does breakthrough? She faces an uphill battle of scrutiny and double standards. Look at Megan Thee Stallion; despite her undeniable talent and work ethic, she’s constantly met with criticism that her lighter-skinned peers never experience. When Tyla, a lighter-skinned artist from South Africa, emerged on the global stage, she was immediately embraced by the mainstream with a level of adoration that darker-skinned artists rarely receive. Yes, she has her own share of critiques, but the industry’s readiness to champion her contrasts sharply with the resistance Black women with darker skin tones often face.

But as the industry globalises, as hip-hop becomes less Western-centric, and as new artists break through on their terms and with an increase in globalisation and rise in other music genres, we’re starting to see the tides shift.

Enter Doechii a powerhouse who refuses to be boxed out.

Breaking Barriers: Doechii’s Rise to the Top

Doechii’s ascent isn’t just about making good music; it’s about dismantling the outdated ideals that have kept dark-skinned women from claiming their rightful place in hip-hop’s top ranks. She’s an artist who thrives on experimentation, blending hip-hop with alternative sounds and creating music that resonates with an audience that has long been overlooked.

Her rise is proof of just how much talent and resilience to push back against an industry that wasn’t designed to support women like her.

Historically, hip-hop has upheld the same beauty standards that dominate the wider entertainment industry. Lighter-skinned Black women have always been positioned as more ‘marketable,’ given bigger platforms, and afforded the grace to experiment without being harshly judged.

Think about the early 2000s; who were the women at the centre of hip-hop’s visual landscape? The industry leaned heavily toward women with features that aligned more with European beauty ideals. Even when dark-skinned women were included, they were often hypersexualised or relegated to background roles.

The music industry’s bias extends beyond aesthetics. Lighter-skinned female rappers, whether it’s Cardi B, Saweetie, or even Ice Spice, often experience a faster rise with significant label backing. Meanwhile, darker-skinned artists like Megan Thee Stallion and Doechii have had to prove themselves in ways their counterparts haven’t. Even legends like Lauryn Hill and Missy Elliott had to fight against these biases. Hill, despite being one of the most celebrated lyricists of all time, was never given the same level of crossover pop success that her lighter-skinned contemporaries enjoyed. Missy had to redefine hip-hop’s aesthetic to make space for herself.

The message has always been clear: if you’re a dark-skinned woman in hip-hop, you have to be twice as good to get half the recognition.

Doechii never fit the industry’s ‘cosign’ formula. She wasn’t trying to be palatable, and she didn’t dilute her artistry to fit viral trends. She carved out her own lane.

Her 2025 Grammy win for Best Rap Album was a moment of history making her only the third Black woman to take home the award. During her acceptance speech, she made it clear why this win was bigger than just her:

“I know there is some Black girl out there, so many Black women out there, who are watching me right now, and I wanna tell you, you can do it. Anything is possible. Don’t allow anybody to project any stereotypes on you that tell you that you can’t be here, that you’re too dark. You are exactly who you need to be.”

This wasn’t just a win for Doechii. It was a win for every Black girl who has been told she wasn’t ‘right’ for the mainstream.

Why This Win Matters

Doechii’s triumph isn’t just about awards; it’s about shifting the narrative. It’s about proving that the industry has been wrong about what people actually want. That audiences do want to see dark-skinned women thrive. That artistry, skill, and vision matter more than outdated beauty standards.

And it’s not just about her music. Her visual identity is bold and experimental. She moves away from the hypersexualised or overly curated image that the industry so often imposes on women in rap. From her braided styles to her schoolgirl-meets-office-core aesthetic to her dramatic makeup choices, Doechii is showing that there’s another way to exist in hip-hop. One that doesn’t require fitting into the male gaze or adhering to traditional femininity.

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The Future of Hip-Hop Needs More Doechiis

Colourism in hip-hop hasn’t magically disappeared, and the industry still has a long way to go in giving dark-skinned women the same level of opportunities and recognition. But Doechii’s success proves that the old rules are breaking.

Hopefully, allowing more people to be interested in artists like Flomili and Bktherula

And as fans, as media, as industry professionals, we have a role to play in keeping that momentum going. That means championing dark-skinned artists without making them work twice as hard for half the credit. That means calling out the biases when we see them. That means celebrating artists like Doechii so the industry can no longer ignore them.

The future of hip-hop should be built on talent and experimentation, not outdated beauty standards.

And Doechii? She’s leading the way.

Also, I wrote this for my magazines site. So here is the link there as well.

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This year, turning 21 meant I had full freedom to indulge in all that December in Lagos had to offer. Days spent at Ilashe, nights hopping between clubs and lounges, coming home at 5 AM only to be back outside by 2 PM. A month of nonstop activity, networking, and partying. Yet, while I was out experiencing it all, the one conversation that dominated my timeline was the same old discourse: “Lagos girls are mean.”

Are Lagos Girls Really Mean?

It’s funny how this narrative resurfaces every year, almost like a seasonal tradition of its own. The idea that Lagos girls, particularly in nightlife settings, are hostile or unapproachable isn’t new, and while I do think there’s a level of misogyny baked into the conversation, I also believe the only people who push this rhetoric are the ones already insecure about their social standing. I had no issue connecting with people, both men and women because I understood the social dynamics at play. If you’re joining someone’s section at a club, you’re not going to be instantly welcomed like a long-lost bestie. People stick to their circles, and that’s just how these spaces work.

The complaints about mean girls feel more like a reflection of unspoken hierarchies than anything else. The reality is that nightlife in Lagos and Detty December as a whole is built on exclusivity, status, and social capital. There’s an undeniable element of classism, a male-centred validation that fuels a lot of these interactions, and, honestly, a sense of entitlement that some people refuse to acknowledge. This year, it felt even more exaggerated when Madame Joyce decided to add her take to the discourse, amplifying a conversation that was already being stretched beyond reason. And went on to wear her high-profile t-shirt.

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The Reality of Detty December

But beyond the surface-level complaints, what this whole discussion really highlights is the wider issue with Detty December and what it represents. Every year, the same patterns emerge: who can access the most exclusive events, who gets seen with the most celebrities, who buys the biggest tables at the club. It’s a game of hierarchy, and what makes it even more jarring is the backdrop it plays out against. Lagos is a city of extremes, and nothing makes that contrast clearer than December. One moment, you’re spraying money onto the floor, watching people scramble to pick it up, and the next, you’re stepping outside to be met with the harsh reality of a city where poverty is inescapable.

Does participating in this culture make us bad people? Tbh, I don’t know. That’s just the reality of Nigeria no matter how high you climb, you’re constantly reminded of how many people are struggling. But what does leave a bad taste is the arrogance that some people carry, the dismissiveness, the condescension. I’ve experienced it firsthand, even from an influencer’s friend (I’m sure you can guess who), while I was directing media and socials for an event. And yet, I know this isn’t just about individual people being rude it’s a reflection of a deeper issue: a country where the class divide is so stark that it naturally breeds tension. It’s only made worse by the influx of Nigerians and other people from abroad, stepping in with currencies that stretch further and widen the gap even more.

Still, despite all of this, I had the time of my life. I won’t lie; I think I over-centred myself in the moment, maybe too much. By the end of it, I could feel the effects, that quiet distance from God that creeps in when distractions take over. But I’m grateful. Grateful for the memories, the connections, and the sheer joy of experiencing it all. And honestly? I can’t wait for the next one.

"Anything that inflates your ego and dopamine to the point of distraction is never good!"

💖

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Lets Dive In

As a self-proclaimed gourmet scent lover, I wanted to share some of my absolute favourite scents for all my vanilla and sweet fragrance lovers out there. I’m also leaving space for recommendations, so feel free to drop your favourites in the comments! I’ve also included a few that I've heard amazing things about but haven't tried yet. Honestly, I’m always on the hunt for my next sweet, dreamy scent I just want to smell like dessert all day, every day and just be edible!

For this post, I'm sticking to perfumes and body sprays, but if you’re interested in an extended list that includes body washes, lotions, and other products, just let me know, and I can definitely make that happen.

Alright, let’s get into it. I’m keeping it to a top 10, which is tough because I love so many of these!

1. Sticky Dates by Lush: I had to start with my current favourite. I recently got this one, and it’s heaven in a bottle—definitely a 10/10.

   

2. Warm Vanilla Sugar by Bath and Body Works : Another 10/10 classic. It’s just so delicious and comforting.

   

3. Sweet Tooth by Sabrina Carpenter : This one is sugary and light perfect for a sweet, casual vibe. I wore this at a beach party and a girl kept complimenting me on it!

   

4. Eilish No. 1 by Billie Eilish: Warm and rich, this is such a cosy scent that still has that sweet, gourmand touch. Very comparable to mod Vanilla by Ariana

   

5. Vanilla Candy by Kayali: If you want something that smells like Rock candy but with a slight twist, this is it. It's very strong, too, and it lasts all day.

   

6. Coconut Fizz by Aqua Allegoria : A tropical twist for all the coconut lovers. It’s light and refreshing while still being sweet and a bit sophisticated.

   

7. Angel's Share by Kilian: This one is more on the luxe side it’s deep, warm, and smells like an indulgent dessert.

   

8. Chelsea Morning by Lush : A newer favourite that’s citrusy with a sweet twist. It’s unique but still gives off those cosy, sweet vibes. Get lots of compliments on this as well!

   

9. Whipped Spice by Prty Girl: The perfect mix of sweet and spicy, think warm vanilla with a hint of cinnamon. And very affordable.

   

10. 71 by Sol de Janeiro: This one is like a caramel dream, rich, warm, and just all-around amazing.

    

Honourable Mention

Pistachio by Kayali: This one is also really Good! But I think I like Vanilla Candy more.

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Here are a few that I know I should have tried by now but just haven't:

1. Vanilla 28 by Kayali

2. Vanille Rose by Mancera

3. Dulce by Rosie Jane

4. Let the Good Times Roll by Lush

5. Vanilla Diorama by Christian Dior

My pockets are only so deep :( But one day, I shall be trying these!

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As an advertising major and an avid learner of marketing, I see this trend from a unique perspective. My studies focus on hooking people online, so naturally, I’ve been thinking about why brands from every industry, not just luxury, are adopting food-centric campaigns. Why are brands like Crumbl, Van Leeuwen, Chicken Shop Date, and Rhode making such waves with food-focused marketing?

Why Food Works in Marketing: Familiarity Over Luxury

While Joel makes good points, I think the trend isn’t so much about creating a sense of luxury. Instead, food resonates because it’s deeply familiar. We’ve seen food in marketing for decades, from 80s music videos to product ads and interviews. Food is universal and instantly evokes cravings and comfort, so pairing it with a product naturally drives brand interest and consideration.

Think about it: when a new lip peptide is marketed with vanilla ice cream, it creates an association. You start craving ice cream, which subtly makes you more aware of the lip peptide product as well. This leverages a classic advertising principle linking sensory experiences with brand recall.

Luxury Brands and the Food Connection

So how does this trend work for luxury brands? Let’s look at Miu Miu, which currently uses coffee imagery in its marketing. Miu Miu’s aesthetic is sophisticated yet accessible, pairing perfectly with a chic coffee shop vibe. Sitting in a Parisian cafe, imagining the rich aroma of coffee, you’re pulled into a lifestyle that Miu Miu embodies. This type of branding creates a tactile, sensory appeal, making the brand feel familiar while also aspirational.

Next thing you know, a simple thought of coffee can bring Miu Miu’s products to mind, nudging you to browse their website or even consider a splurge. Ralph Lauren excels at this, especially with the addition of the Ralph Lauren Cafe. Aritzia also offers a free drink at their cafe from a purchase at their New York store!

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Viral Sensation: Nara Smith and Food as Shock Factor

And then there’s Nara Smith—who deserves her own post, by the way. She went viral with a peanut butter video, captivating audiences by combining food, ASMR, and a bit of shock factor. Her videos are soothing yet unexpected, providing a double dose of dopamine that keeps people coming back. Adding food to the mix was just an added bonus, as it’s relatable and instantly catches attention. Plus, she simply just likes to cook. (i will make a whole blog post on her)

Why This Trend Works So Well

Personally, I’m all for this trend. It shows that brands today need to go beyond simply advertising products; they need to sell an experience, a feeling, or even a lifestyle. Food connects on a sensory level that traditional ads often can’t reach. My only hope is that this trend doesn’t get overused. With social media constantly churning out new trends, we rarely see ideas live long enough to appreciate their full impact. But for now, I’m here for brands selling both style and cravings.

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This is going to be a shorter post, but it’s inspired by a podcast, “Note to self” by Peyton Sartain, which I listened to recently where they talked about doing a “dopamine menu” essentially, things they do to stay happy and keep away from being online too much/doom scrolling. I honestly don’t remember all the specific tips she shared on the podcast, but the idea stuck with me, and I it became a trend on my TikTok for you page.

So, I thought I’d share some of my own personal “dopamine detox” habits—things I’ve been doing lately to keep myself happy and avoid getting completely sucked into the online vortex. NGL, a lot of my work requires me to be perpetually online, but I’ve been making an effort to find ways to stay productive and present without endlessly scrolling on TikTok every time I get a break.

Here are some things that have been working for me:

1. Working on Future Projects and Staying Creative

When my mind is occupied with tasks related to my creative projects, it keeps me off my phone and focused on something productive. I genuinely enjoy this type of work, and in a way, it’s calming. It’s a win-win: I’m both productive and feeling good about what I’m building.

2. Online Window Shopping & Pinterest

I’ve been trying to curate my life aesthetically, and that involves organizing my space and items in a clean, visually pleasing way. And let’s be honest, maintaining that aesthetic takes time! Even though Pinterest keeps me online, it’s one of the least toxic platforms for me, and it always leaves me feeling happy and inspired.

3. Working on My Substack

Whenever I have a spare moment in my busy schedule, I take time to work on this Substack. My goal is to reach 200 subscribers, and although it's a slow process, it’s growing steadily. I’ve decided not to promote it on my other socials (at least for now) because I want to be intentional about when and how I share this space. But trust me, once the time is right, I’ll promote it!

4. Beauty Maintenance

I absolutely love beauty seriously, it’s one of my biggest passions. Things like styling my hair, shaving, using my IPL, shaping my eyebrows, or even pre-planning my “Detty December” look bring me so much joy. Plus, beauty routines take time, so they keep me off my phone and in a happy, self-care mode.

5. Getting Engrossed in a Show

There’s nothing like finding a new show that hooks you in! I love overanalyzing characters and plotlines, and I can talk to myself or a friend for hours, dissecting everything. It’s such a fun way to escape and stay offline for a while. A good one right now is “Tell me lies.” Thank me later.

6. Going to the Gym

The gym has been a lifesaver for me lately. Whenever I’m feeling lazy or grumpy, I push myself to go, and it always boosts my mood. Plus, I’ve been seeing real progress, which makes me feel even better. Staying active has definitely helped keep me happy and preoccupied.

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A Few More Little Things I Do:

• Crossing items off my to-do list (so satisfying!)

• Watching my favourite "girl" YouTubers while cleaning and organizing

• Listening to podcasts while tidying up my fave is “I said what I said”

Things I Want to Get Into (but haven’t had time for yet):

• Baking

• Flower arranging

• Cooking more often

I’ve been so busy with projects lately that I haven’t had the chance to dive into these hobbies, but I’m looking forward to making time for them eventually!

Also, if you’ve been enjoying this Substack, I’d really appreciate it if you shared it with your friends! I’m itching to hit 100 subscribers (lmao), so let’s make it happen!

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And feel free to buy me a coffee : )

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Today, I want to discuss a larger topic that’s been on my mind: the growing disparity between women and men, and how I think it’s inevitably going to affect our society in the long run. I want to credit two sources that inspired this reflection: a TikTok from the Financial Times covering how women are starting to surpass men in the workforce in developing countries and another video by one of my favourite YouTube essayists, Jordan Theresa, called "Why Does Nobody Want to Be a Hoe Anymore?"

I'm going to share a more personal take on this. I don’t want to come across as snobby, but in my 21 years of life, I’ve definitely felt a shift brewing. In my dating experiences, I’ve noticed that many of the men I’ve dated felt… incompetent. So, I started dating older men, thinking that would help, but they still felt like they didn’t know what they were doing. It’s something I’ve seen more women talk about, especially in the context of “sassy men” and how some men seem to want to be taken care of now.

Looking at shows like Love is Blind, which gives us a deeper glimpse into the lives of men, it seems like many men are doing worse off than their female counterparts. This could be due to the current socio-economic climate, but there’s definitely a rise in men feeling less valuable in society. In response, some seem to be lashing out with unhealthy displays of dominance, hence the rise of red-pill podcasts, the overturning of Roe v. Wade, and the increase in misogynistic crimes, as well as quoting statistics from the Financial Times showing that more men are being less engaged in society overall. As society becomes more progressive, it seems like men are struggling to keep up with women.

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This had me thinking: more and more women are choosing to live their lives without men, whether this is their ideal situation or not. Since women are more capable than ever of doing things on their own, why have a man slow you down, especially when there’s data showing that women in relationships with partners often die sooner or are more stressed? It’s not that I’m denying the desire for a boyfriend, I’d like one, but when I look around, I don’t see anything promising. It’s not just a “men are trash” mentality; the statistics seem to back it up—many men just aren’t stepping up.

So, what does this mean for society? It seems like many women are going to keep choosing themselves, and I’m actually a little scared about where this might lead. Are we leaving men behind? And if so, will men respond by imposing even more restrictions as this gap widens?

For those of us who are single and maybe losing hope of finding someone ideal, it’s a strange feeling. I know for a fact that at 21, I shouldn’t already be feeling dating fatigue and hopelessness, but here I am, along with a lot of other women. The data reflects this, too, with dating platforms rebranding to cater to these shifting dynamics, yet still struggling. For instance, Bumble’s rebrand didn’t take off as expected. About 56% of men use dating apps compared to 37% of women. More men are looking for matches, but as women become more confident and less complacent, we’re becoming pickier with our choices, leaving more men single.

I don’t have a clear solution to this; it’s more of a reflection on a problem that I think will only magnify. This could lead to a bigger shift in society overall. Movements like the 4B movement show that women are ready and unafraid of this change, but I’m not so sure the men are.

One thing I know is that I might be single for a long time, and maybe that’s for the better.

This post is about an incident from a while back, when everyone was upset with Tyla for handing her award to Lil Nas X, saying it was too heavy. The whole interaction caused such an uproar online, with people even calling her an "uppity African." I was genuinely confused by the backlash and why people were treating her this way! And as an African myself (Nigerian), I stand by African rights and their wrongs, and in this case, there was no wrong. In fact, Tyla was doing the right thing by rejecting her VMA for Best Afrobeats—because, well, she isn’t an Afrobeats artist… When I saw the video, I thought the conversation would focus on how the industry essentially lumps all African artists into one "Afrobeats" category, despite the fact that there are so many different genres and styles within African music like—-Amapiano, Juju, Reggae, Ganwa and more. But instead, the reaction was entirely different, and that's a whole other discussion in itself.

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Anyway, I talked to a friend about it because it seemed like there was a bigger issue here. Specifically, it seemed that many people, particularly…Black Americans,had an issue with Tyla. This reminded me of the time people were upset when she said she wasn't Black but "Coloured," which, technically, is how people in South Africa identify her and thus how she will identify herself. My friend mentioned that Tyla just needs to learn to communicate better with an American audience since she's trying to market herself here. And that got me thinking: Why does she have to? Why do Africans, in particular, have to cater themselves to a new target audience just because they’re trying to make money in a different market?

Black Americans aren’t necessarily her primary audience, even if they might be the ones contributing the most to her success right now. I’m not even sure that’s true. But it led me to think about Nigerian artists like Burna Boy, who have succeeded in the mainstream partly because they began tailoring themselves to a foreign audience. As a proud Nigerian, I find that ridiculous—why should anyone have to reshape themselves just to make others feel comfortable?

I think Americans are simply used to being the ones catered to, and as the world becomes more globalized, we’re going to see less of that. I believe more situations like this will happen, where people realize that not everyone is interested in making the American audience feel as special and prioritized as they want to be. Honestly, I can't wait for that day. If you’re going to support an artist or brand, support them for who they are in the era they’re in.

I’m genuinely thrilled to see the rise of African brands and music, and I truly believe we’re going to be the next pioneers in the music and entertainment industries. What baffles me is that you never see this kind of backlash directed at K-pop artists. It’s just something I’ve been sitting on, so I thought I’d share.

I hope this little post encourages some Americans to think beyond themselves and recognize that there are other cultures and people out there.

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