new year's day

where do you go to feel like you again?

Hi my friends,

Happy New Year ♥️

Full transparency, I woke up in a sourpuss mood. I’m on antibiotics (again) - and I always forget how much they mess with my mood. There’s something about how good bacteria helps to produce happy chemicals, and when all the bacteria is being killed off - there goes the pathways to our happiness. Lol. I’m paraphrasing what I read on the Internet - and before you ask, yes I am taking a probiotic. In fact, I am taking two different types.

So while I sit here in my sourpuss New Years Day mood - I’ll fill you in on my New Year’s Eve. I ordered Greek. Chicken, lemon potatoes, a greek salad. I splurged because I figured it could also be my New Year’s Day Lunch. I meditated for half an hour. I vision boarded. I used new skincare (obsessed with this moisturizer). I did a Niacinamide face mask, a coconut oil foot mask (a reminder to add these regularly into our routines). I took my antibiotics. I cleaned my apartment. Every countertop, every table top. Washed my bedding. I want to feel fresh.

I put in an attempt to read Blue Sisters, but I’m pretty sure I just scrolled on TikTok and pinned Chloe-inspired outfits to my 2025 vision board. I started to write a thank you letter to the universe, and thanked it for the times of solitude and of adventure, my writing groups, and, of course, I thanked it for Rome.

I felt like I should do more. Like write out every single lofty goal I ever want to achieve in this life. TikTok was scaring me about all of the things I should and should not do, manifest and not manifest. But then I forgot - Emily, you hate goal setting. You also hate being told what to do, so. Lying on the floor and watching the shower scene in How To Lose A Guy in Ten Days, a chamomile tea, taking 2 melatonin gummies, and passing out next to my stuffed cat at 11 PM was how I spent the rest of my evening.

When I first started my writing groups, back in 2022, one of the prompts for our first session was: Where do you go to feel like you again?

And when I woke up this morning, in an antibiotic-induced spiral, contemplating if I should go back to Rome (l o l) - I had a moment. I was like - Emily Mais. Sit down with your thoughts. Make a coffee. And write.

So, here I am. Starting off my new year, in my hometown. “Reclaiming your hometown” - as one of my favourite people -

karlie flood

, would say. A coffee beside me. Red, almond shaped nails - typing away to you. A gardenia and rosewater candle burning. Maroon playing in the background.

Where do you go to feel like you again?

It’s a new year, but I want to remember everything. The places that I’ve walked, the emotions that I’ve held. All of the people that I’ve seen. Those corner spots at the bar. The words I’ve written, the words I’ve said aloud. I want to remember his big wool coat, passing his cigarette back and forth, and I want to remember that white brick wall. I want to remember all of the friend’s couches that I curled up on, with a blanket and a glass of wine, ready to share the latest drama on my Instagram stories. I want to remember how it feels to be seen by strangers. Angels in the form of strangers. I want to remember how it feels to be hugged by my best friend. How it feels when Toulouse jumps on my lap. The bakery, the skincare stores, the texts that read: “What is the Emily Mais purchase of the day?”

It’s a new year, but I am still here. We are still here.

So, where do I go to feel like myself again?

It’s not Rome, I realized. It’s not a place. It’s not a person. But it is a moment.

It’s writing to you. It’s writing to me. It’s that feeling that brings you here, that feeling that brings you home.

And the best part? It’s a new year - but we aren’t going anywhere. We are here. We are home.

And baby, it’s like we never left.

Happy 2025 my loves,

Emily