first things first: no one has their life together. not that finance bro in your dms with the gym selfies. not that girl who wakes up at 5 am to journal. not even your therapist. they’re just better at aesthetics. and now that we’ve established the collective illusion — let’s proceed.
step 1: dramatic breakdown (optional but recommended)
you’re going to need a solid identity crisis. the kind where you stare at your ceiling fan like it’s spinning answers. cry a little. or a lot. question everything — your career, your relationships, your weird obsession with shopping. it’s essential. consider it a baptism. by tears.
bonus points if you tweet something cryptic like “i can’t do this anymore” and then go silent for 8 hours.
step 2: clean your room like a main character
suddenly, you’re cleaning. not because you’re inspired — but because you’ve disassociated so hard that organizing your drawers feels like healing. and honestly? it is.
put on a playlist called “i’m becoming her” or “healing in soft lighting”. light a candle. stare at it like you’re mourning your past self. romanticize the vacuum.
✨you are now 2% more together✨
step 3: delete half your contacts and convince yourself it’s growth
scroll through your phone. if their name gives you anxiety? delete. if they only text when mercury is in retrograde and you’re feeling lonely? delete. if you saved their number as “maybe don’t” and still texted them anyway? you need to delete yourself.
your future doesn’t have room for people who treat your heart like a part-time job.
step 4: become obsessed with routines you’ll abandon in 5 days
you write a schedule. color-coded. ambitious. delusional. you decide you’ll wake up at 6 am, meditate, go on a hot girl walk, journal, and read 10 pages of a book you’ll never finish.
on day one, you do it all. on day two, you snooze. by day five, you’re back to doomscrolling in bed with crumbs on your chest. it’s okay. we call this the soft reset. like restarting your phone when it stops working.
step 5: therapy, journaling, and ✨shadow work✨
start unpacking why you text your ex when you’re sad. journal through it. cry. write things like “i’m not broken i’m just unfinished”. pretend you’re in an indie film. add polaroids. now you’re healing. or at least you’re performing healing — which counts for something in the age of instagram stories.
bonus points if you post a photo of your journal with a cup of coffee and write: “romanticizing the hard parts 🤎”
step 6: make one (1) decision that changes your timeline
you apply to that course. block that person. start the project. delete instagram. leave the situationship. make a vision board. join the gym. leave the gym. write a poem. get a tattoo. doesn’t matter — just do something your future self will want to hug you for.
(and no, “cutting bangs” does not count.)
step 7: remember, it’s not linear
some days you’ll feel like a phoenix. other days you’ll eat cereal for dinner and cry to olivia rodrigo. both are valid.
getting your life together isn’t about becoming perfect. it’s about choosing yourself — over and over — even when you don’t recognize the person in the mirror yet.
final thoughts (in lowercase because vibes)
getting your life together is really just the art of faking it until you care enough to not fake it anymore. it’s doing one small good thing when everything feels bad. it’s laughing at your mess, because the alternative is sobbing in fetal position (again). it’s realizing that the version of you you’re trying to become is already waiting. you just have to meet them halfway.
so yeah. clean your room. eat something green. cry. text your best friend. romanticize the shit out of your healing. and if all else fails, just start a blog about it. worked for me.
love,
someone who still doesn’t have their shit together (but has excellent taste in books)