Dear reader,
It's 6 a.m. The air outside my window is eerily quiet and deathly still. The sky is a washed-out milky grey, and everything is motionless when I look at the tree branches and allotments below. The scene seems frozen in time.
Autumn is coming. An end and a beginning. A bittersweet melancholy sprinkled with an unknown yet undeniable excitement.
As I grow older, I find myself noticing polarities more.
My summer has been both glorious and painful.
The death of someone younger in my family brings a sadness that's hard to navigate.
Other equally significant griefs have arisen and remain.
It's hard to fathom how these griefs could ever heal. Yet, this summer has surprised me in ways I never imagined. Life, in all its unpredictability, reminds me that anything can happen.
I never go on holiday in the summer—it's simply too busy, bright, noisy, and hot for my liking. I prefer to rest, ponder, and walk in the woods while the world drinks iced beverages and slaps on sunscreen. There's a particular joy in finding quiet amid the chaos.
But I've enjoyed being with friends and attended a few lively parties. I've hiked through serene landscapes and paddled in refreshing streams. I also tended to my allotment and sunk into the pages of dystopian stories while sunbathing in an orange deckchair. These moments of connection and solitude have been my summer delights.
I had booked a first-class interrail ticket in the spring, as I planned to explore Italy and Greece in September. But I cancelled it this week. I can't be bothered. I don’t have the energy or motivation.
But also, I have other, more pressing things on my mind.
I'm thrilled to announce that I'm launching a new business venture.
While I'll share more details in the future, for now, let me just say that I'm utterly obsessed with building it. It consumes almost every waking hour and even infiltrates my dreams.
But I need to care less about it.
I am a profoundly obsessive person. It feels okay to say that openly in 2024.
Just like it's okay to say your period has leaked onto your jeans, you're going for CBT, or you ate three packets of biscuits for dinner. Anything goes nowadays?
My first proper boyfriend had a signature scent—Calvin Klein's Obsession. It was 1992, and I found that fragrance utterly intoxicating at fifteen. The mere whiff of it made me weak in the knees, casting a spell that lingered long after he'd gone.
If I juxtapose that luxurious, flat, round bottle of Obsession with its curious and heady scent against the backdrop of my youth—a grim, poverty-stricken, grey northern town—it's no wonder it had such strange powers over me. That fragrance was an exotic escape from the bleakness of my daily reality.
My boyfriend gifted me the women's version of Obsession in a small egg-shaped bottle—very pleasing to hold in the hand. The liquid had a dark, rich hue, similar to burnt treacle.
We had a lovely time smelling each other.
True to the fragrance's name, I was utterly obsessed with him, and for a fleeting moment, he was equally captivated by me.
If I happen to catch a rare whiff of that aftershave now, it stirs up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, much like autumn itself—both joyful and sad.
This week, I caught a reel on Instagram by Chidera Eggerue (@theslumflower)
I love her. While I don't agree with most of her views on men and relationships, I absolutely thrive on her energy, confidence, and unwavering authenticity. She is unapologetically herself, and she's hilarious.
She said that neurodivergent women are more likely to be obsessive. While I can't vouch for any research or statistics about this statement, it feels accurate. The post has 12K likes and 431 comments in agreement.
She advised caution for neurodivergent women when entering romantic relationships, warning that we often transform our partners into special interests, devoting all our time and energy to them.
She advised us to channel our obsessive tendencies toward self-improvement instead. She encourages an ongoing obsession with creating the life we truly desire.
It's a fascinating topic.
She offers brilliant advice; I wish I'd heard it as a teen. Although, I probably wouldn't have listened—after all, I didn't know I was neurodivergent or even obsessive at the time.
Nevertheless, it's precisely what I've done. I've been single for twelve years, dedicating most of my time and energy to personal growth.
Maybe I've become too obsessed with self-improvement now. Who knows? But at least I'm continually evolving!
The thing about obsession, if you're not familiar with the emotion/behaviour, is that it brings an immense amount of pleasure. Think dopamine spikes galore. And so my obsessive nature makes me extremely happy—which might be strange for some of you to hear.
But obsession has a double edge—it can also bring intense pain.
When we go up, we must come down.
So, I spend time trying to avoid becoming too obsessed with anything, and I employ days of enforced rest from my obsessions—currently, my new business venture.
It’s a blessing and a curse.
It's been many years since I've obsessed over a man, and I'd like to think it won't happen again, but who knows?
In 2024, it feels liberating to openly acknowledge my obsessive nature and share my vulnerabilities and peculiarities.
I’m proud to unmask and have the confidence to be so authentic.
Will I get a shame hangover after sending this email and revealing so much? Possibly. But as always, I revert to my most used mantra: Fuck it.
Throughout the years, endless polarities and unpredictable twists create a heady mix of bittersweet moments.
Throughout the seasons, my obsessions are the sparkly threads that pull my life together.
And I am thankful.
I hope you have a healthy week,
Love Hannah xoxo
I might be obsessed with always reading these 😀 On point as always. Have a great week x
Oh I love this! Every detail I can relate to. And you know where the dregs of that bottle of Obsession went, don’t you? I reckon I got another 5 years of use from it 🤣