The Art of Unapologetic Joy**
It’s 9 AM, and I’m at my new coffee spot (Ethan—I confirmed it yesterday when he rolled his eyes at my fifth oat milk latte order this week). The sun is hitting the sidewalk just right, my sketchbook is open to a half-finished design, and I’m… happy. Like, really happy. Not the performative, post-breakup "look how fine I am" kind, but the quiet, settled kind that sneaks up on you when you least expect it.
A week ago, I was knee-deep in breakup debris—questioning every decision, overanalyzing every what if. But today? Today, I’m reveling in the freedom of being unapologetically me.
Here’s the thing about growth: it’s not always about the big, dramatic moments. Sometimes, it’s in the tiny, ordinary victories—the ones that feel insignificant until you realize they’ve stacked up into something bigger. Like:
- Saying "no" without guilt. Yesterday, a guy at the studio asked me out, and for the first time ever, I didn’t overthink it. I just smiled and said, "I’m good for now, but thanks." No justifications, no maybe another time—just a clean, honest no. And it felt amazing.
- Embracing the mess. My latest design project is a chaotic mix of patchwork denim and neon stitching—nothing like the "minimalist chic" I thought I should be making. But you know what? I love it. It’s loud, it’s imperfect, and it’s so me.
- Letting joy be enough. I used to tie happiness to milestones—a relationship, a perfect grade, some elusive next step. But this morning, I caught myself grinning over nothing but the way my coffee tasted and the fact that my favorite song came on shuffle. No reason, no grand meaning—just joy, plain and simple.
I think that’s the biggest lesson this breakup (and this week) has taught me: healing isn’t about becoming someone new. It’s about uncovering the person you’ve been all along—the one who got buried under shoulds and what ifs. The one who’s allowed to take up space, to be messy, to love mismatched earrings and bad puns and the freedom of being solo.
So yeah, I’m single. I’m caffeinated. I’m wearing one blue sock and one striped one because why not? And for the first time in a long time, I’m not just okay—I’m thriving.
xx Mandy
(P.S. Ethan just gave me a free pastry. Either he pities me or my "recently single glow" is working. I choose to believe it’s the latter.)