But the older I get, the more I realize something else too: getting older is a privilege, and despite everything culture has spent decades trying to convince women of, there is something wildly magical about growing into yourself. About knowing yourself better, caring less what other people think, and finally feeling more at home in your own skin.

When I look at photos of myself in my twenties, I see someone beautiful and full of potential, but I also see someone who felt lost in ways she could not yet name. There was something missing in my eyes, and I think what was missing was me.

As the years have passed, I have been learning, growing, healing, and becoming more myself than I have ever been, and if I were offered the chance to go back to my twenties but lose all the wisdom I’ve gained, I genuinely do not think I would take it.

Originally this was supposed to be “40 things I’ve learned by 40” in the form of tight, punchy little one liners. But, I apparently have far more thoughts and opinions than I realized, and somewhere along the way these turned into mini essays. So instead of one wildly long newsletter no sane person would finish, I’m breaking this into a four-part series.

40 Things I’ve Learned by 40 (Part 1)

1. Emotional Regulation is a Superpower

   If you are not in control of your emotions, your emotions will control you. You are essentially on a leash, being yanked through life by whatever external force is setting you off that day. Anyone who can reliably get a rise out of you becomes your master. This doesn’t mean you shouldn’t feel your feelings, you absolutely should, but without some sense of inner calm and self regulation, you’re just lost at sea, pulled in every direction by every passing storm.
   

2. The ones who get it get it, and the ones who don’t don’t.

   I recently saw a popular TikTok creator responding to comments telling her to do her hair and makeup. Her response was basically: I wear beautiful clothes and don’t style my hair or wear makeup, it’s my thing. The ones who get it get it, and the ones who don’t, don’t.

   I realized immediately that I was one of the people who got it, and it made me love her even more. Meanwhile, I’m sure the people who didn’t get it were probably even more irritated by her after hearing that.
   

   …And that’s the point! The things that make the right people love, admire, or feel connected to you are often the exact same things that repel the wrong people. Unless your goal is to become as broadly palatable and inoffensive as possible (which, frankly, is impossible), you are going to do things not everyone understands, and that’s okay. The people who get you are the ones who matter.
   

3. There is nothing shallow about wanting to look your best.

   We live in a world where women are judged no matter what, if you care about your appearance you’re vain or self-centered, and if you don’t, people often treat you differently for that too. Looking your best really does change how people respond to you, and there is nothing wrong with wanting to be treated better or move through the world with more ease and opportunity. But honestly, the biggest shift is internal. When I feel put together and well groomed, I feel better in my own skin and carry myself differently. I feel more confident, more worthy, and more willing to put myself out there and take risks.
   

4. Heal your dang attachment wounds

   I spent a good chunk of my 30s healing my attachment wounds, and the gifts I’ve gotten from that work have felt endless. But perhaps the greatest gift is this: I have completely lost my desire to be desired by people who don’t really like me, in friendships, professional spaces, and obviously romantic relationships.

   
   If you’ve ever lived through the hell of longing for, or even becoming obsessed with, people or spaces that barely seemed to want you around in the first place, you know how painful that can be. When I was in it, I didn’t understand why I was like that, or even know there was a way out. Healing my attachment wounds changed everything. These days, if something doesn’t want me back, I let it go, and I cannot overstate how peaceful that feels.

   

5. Buy good knives and keep them sharp.

   This might sound like a small and specific life lesson, but I genuinely believe tiny details create chain reactions in your life. A nice sharp knife that feels good in your hand makes chopping vegetables easier, faster, and more enjoyable. You chop more vegetables, you eat more vegetables, you feel better. More energy, better moods, clearer skin, and maybe even a vague sense that you have your life together. Don’t underestimate how something as small as a good knife can improve your everyday life and set off a domino effect.
   

6. Getting older might be the best dating filter there is.

   You will hear, over and over again, that men are only attracted to younger women, and if you let it, that idea will scare the hell out of you and make you feel like you’re running out of time to find love. In my experience, this is only partially true.
   
   Yes, there are men who are exclusively interested in younger women, but in my experience those men also tend to be exceedingly shallow and emotionally immature (ask me how I know🙄). There are also plenty of wonderful men who want a partner their own age. One of the unexpectedly great things about getting older is that the many of the emotionally stunted weirdos start filtering themselves out. It’s kind of like a hands-free dating filter.
   

7. Stay the fuck away from people who are perpetual victims

   In life, you will eventually meet someone who has been wronged by a long line of people. Every ex was crazy, every friendship ended because someone betrayed them, every workplace was toxic. Every conflict somehow proves how deeply kind, generous, and misunderstood they are. Of course, sometimes people really have been through horrible things, but pay attention to whether someone has any capacity for accountability. If someone is perpetually the victim in every story and incapable of reflecting on the role they play in their own life, proceed with extreme caution. People who cannot take accountability tend to repeat the same BS over and over, and eventually you will find yourself cast as the villain in their story too.
   

8. Jealousy is healthy, letting it turn you into a spiteful controlling demon is not.
   I actually think jealousy is one of the sneakiest emotions because it rarely walks in announcing itself. Instead it disguises itself as disgust, judgment, anger, hatred, or pity. You don’t think I’m jealous of them, you think ugh, they’re so annoying or why would anyone even want that?
   
   But calling out and being honest about your jealousy is one of the most valuable things you can do, because jealousy is a compass. It points toward what you actually want, not just what you’re telling yourself you want because it’s safer, easier, or more convenient. Once I started paying attention to my jealousy instead of being ashamed of it, I started understanding myself a whole lot better.

   

9. It is a billion times better to try and fail than to never try at all.
   The pain of failure is real, I’m not going to pretend it isn’t. Rejection hurts, embarrassment hurts, things not working out hurts. But in my experience, the pain of regret is far worse, and only grows heavier with time.
   
   When you try something and fail, at least you get an answer. You learn something, you gain clarity, and eventually life moves on. What’s harder to live with is wondering what would have happened if you had just gone for it. Do you really want to grow old wishing you had done the things your heart actually wanted to do?
   

10. Be ruthless about the quality of what you let into your life

    When it comes to what you allow into your life, from the fabrics you put on your body, to the food you put in your mouth, to the friendships and relationships you keep around, be ruthless about quality.
    
    I’m not talking expensive for the sake of expensive, I mean things that genuinely make your life feel better to live. Clothes in fabrics that feel good against your skin, food that leaves you feeling nourished instead of depleted, relationships that make life feel lighter instead of heavier.
    

    I’ve found that poor quality things usually end up costing you one way or another, whether it’s frustration, discomfort, replacing the same thing three times, or just the low-level annoyance of interacting with something that kind of sucks every day. And yes, I am talking about people here too.

6 things I’m loving so much rn

1. Dress Code by Veronique Hyland. The fact that I’m no longer chronically ill and depressed has (obviously) brought a lot of really wonderful changes into my life. One I genuinely didn’t see coming is how much fun I’m having learning about fashion and getting dressed. I love sociology and cultural critique type books, and this one hit such a sweet spot for me. Not only is the subject matter fascinating, but it’s written in a way that makes me think I’d still be completely hooked even if I weren’t into fashion at all.

2. I have become mildly obsessed with the concept of a flouncy white skirt as a wardrobe staple. I love how it looks with chunky sweaters and boots, but also with a tank top and sandals. It somehow works year-round and feels unexpectedly versatile. This one by Christy Dawn is my absolute favorite, I am impossibly in love with it.

3. Switching to fresh, delivered dog food has been such a game changer, I genuinely cannot overstate it. The second I pull it out of the fridge, Apple sprints to the kitchen, and I love that the ingredients actually look like real food (including chunks of veggies). They also hooked me up with a pretty great intro offer, so if you’ve been thinking about trying it, you can use this link for 60% off your first box.

4. I LOVE a moisturizer that can be put on while my body is still wet because body lotion on dry skin is, frankly, not my favorite sensory experience. This one is the best I’ve found. I love the consistency, and the smell is fucking delicious, somehow sweet with a tiny bit of umami? I genuinely do not know how to describe it, but it smells incredible.

5. My new phone case. I don’t have much to say other than it is maybe the cutest one I’ve ever owned, it is also square which for some reason is very satisfying.

6. Can you believe my all-time favorite hyper-fixation band is playing a show in New York right around my 40th birthday, celebrating my all-time favorite hyperfixation albums, I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning and Digital Ash in a Digital Urn. I genuinely feel like this is some kind of gift from the spirit universe directly to me.

I don’t know how I could possibly mention Bright Eyes + birthday in the same sentence without referencing this all-time classique:

Anyway… what are you mildly obsessed with right now? I would genuinely love to know!

Until next time.

xoVC

I’ve been decorating my home piece by piece, and as it slowly starts becoming the kind of space I’ve always dreamed about, I’ve found myself running into a bit of a personal crisis:

I am, by nature, a messy person. An ADHD-brained, type B, leave-the-cabinet-open, “I’ll deal with it later” kind of person.

And yet at the exact same time, I deeply crave beauty, calm, order, good smells, soft lighting, clean counters, all of it. In fact I need that kind of environment to feel productive, and tbh…mentally stable. I so badly want to be one of those women whose house looks effortlessly put together and smells of expensive candles at all times.

The issue is that I kind of hate cleaning.

Sure, every once in a while I’ll enter some miraculous cleaning flow state. But those days feel increasingly rare. And if I don’t maintain some kind of baseline in between, the mess eventually grows into this enormous overwhelming beast that feels impossible to face, even in a perfect flow state.

So over time, I started trying to:
1. Stick to certain routines/rules
2. Do what I can to make the process somewhat more pleasurable.

I began replacing harsh chemical-filled cleaning products with ones that smell delicious. I upgraded the random ugly tools and plastic bottles I’d accumulated over the years with things that feel substantial and satisfying to use. And you know what? It’s helped a lot.

At this point, when I smell traditional cleaning products, they almost smell poisonous to me. My body instantly recoils.

So today I thought I’d share some of the processes and products that have genuinely made cleaning feel a little more pleasant, as someone who will probably never really love it.

1. A house basket - I’m constantly leaving things in the other room (my glasses, my to do notebook, my laptop, the little handheld jaw massage thing I’ve been a little bit addicted to) and it was driving me crazy until I found out about the concept of a house basket!
   
   Hear me out: a (preferably cute) little basket with a handle that you can tote from room to room and put all of your essentials in. Also a great solution for the things I always need, but don’t really have a formal home for.
   

2. Cleaning products that actually smell good - Using a eucalyptus cleaning spray in your bathroom versus some fluorescent blue chemical sludge is the difference between feeling like you’re in a spa versus a medical facility. Also, whoever finally decided laundry detergent should smell expensive instead of “generic cleanliness” deserves a frggin’ medal.
   
   My recs: I’ve have genuinely loved everything I’ve tried from Koala Eco (especially this and this!) They also have a really nice starter kit.
   
   I’m also a huge fan of Laundry Sauce detergent pods. My favorite scent is Himalayan Cashmere, which was sold out last time I checked (rude). Your laundry ends up smelling less like generic detergent and more like an expensive hotel robe. One tip: the scent is a little more subtle than a lot of detergents, so definitely follow the instructions. The dryer sheets make a big difference too. I also asked them for a code and they actually gave me one, VIOLET-15 gets you 15% off.

   

3. A mini dust pan for counter crumbs - I feel like I am perpetually wiping down my kitchen counters, so a lil’ countertop dustpan has been pretty life changing. Instead of doing the gross little “wipe crumbs into your hand” maneuver fifty times a day, I can just quickly sweep everything away without any hand-on-crumb contact.

   Honestly, I’ve been using a flimsy plastic one I got at Homegoods a while ago, but I just ordered this because I already know that if something feels substantial in my hand and is made from natural materials, I’ll enjoy using it that much more.
   

4. Steam cleaner - When it’s time for a deep clean, I break out the steam cleaner. It blasted years-old dried gunk out of the fridge when I first moved into this house and only uses water, which is kind of cool in our chemical-maxxing culture. (If you want to witness the fridge horror show, I documented the whole thing in an IG highlight.)
   
   This is my trusty steam cleaner that I love to bits. We’ve been through thick + thin (layers of mysterious gunk) together.
   

5. Organic cotton kitchen towels - I used to buy the cheapest kitchen towels imaginable because I figured they were just going to get destroyed anyway. Then someone gifted me a really nice organic cotton one and now I fear I can never go back. Drying your hands with a soft fancy towel instead of something that feels like a motel rag is one of those tiny quality of life upgrades that does make a difference.
   
   I really like these!
   

6. Making sure everything has a place - I’ve realized a huge percentage of my stress comes from objects that don’t technically belong anywhere. Those are the things that start collecting on your countertops and dining table and making shit look messy and cluttered. So now whenever I bring something into the house I try to ask myself: where does this actually live? And then I assign it an address and try my best to make sure it doesn’t try to set up camp anywhere else.
   

7. Power hour - Okay so I will admit more often than not this ends up being power 20 minutes, but putting aside designated time at the end of the day to do a little tidying makes a big ol’ difference!
   
   Okay, that’s what I’ve got for now! Do you have anything you’d add to the list?
   
   xoVC
   
   P.S. Some of the links above are affiliate links, which means I may earn a small commission if you purchase through them, at no extra cost to you. I only share products I genuinely use, love, or think are genuinely worth recommending. Supporting through these links helps support both this newsletter and the free content I put out online, which I really appreciate ❤️
   

Which was especially unfortunate because the grenade found me while I was at home working on house projects, deep in a glorious little flow state, feeling energized, inspired, and calm. The kind of mood I used to think adulthood would naturally contain more of than it actually does.

Then I looked at my phone.

Before my brain could even process what I was seeing, my body reacted. That familiar adrenaline surge. That shaky, electrically charged feeling that happens when someone blindsides you emotionally and your nervous system immediately interprets it as danger.

But at this point in my life, I’ve learned that reacting in the heat of the moment almost always makes things worse. So instead of spiraling, I paused and had a very deliberate conversation with myself.

“Is this an actual threat?”

“No.”

“Okay. Then what is it?”

“A person trying to get a reaction out of me.”

And honestly, this is the part that made me realize I’ve changed.

Because in the past, my next thought would have been: “How do I defend myself?” Which usually just meant pouring gasoline on the situation and ruining my own peace in the process.

But this time, my next thought was:
“What do I need to feel calm and return to the good place I was in before this happened?”

And the answer was simple.

Block the person. Ignore it. Move on.

Okay fine, I did send screenshots to the group chat because I am still a human being and the absurdity of it all was admittedly a little funny. But beyond that, I didn’t engage.

And what surprised me most was that it didn’t ruin my day. It barely ruined my hour.

I just returned to my life.

That ability, protecting my own peace instead of handing someone else control over it, feels like a luxury I didn’t even know existed for most of my life.

5 Recent Pleasures

1. I went foraging with a friend with my cool chef friend, and not only did we find a shit ton of ramps, we also stumbled upon a beautiful cluster of oyster mushrooms on the walk back.

2. Irene Forte sent me a serum that might genuinely be one of the nicest things I’ve ever put on my skin. I used three drops after washing my face and my skin just completely drank it up. It gave me that rare “oh… this is GOOD good” feeling immediately. It’s definitely a splurge, but it feels incredibly concentrated and luxurious, and I can already tell a bottle is going to last forever.

   

3. The PERFECT top I found on eBay arrived in the mail and somehow fit exactly how I hoped it would.

4. I finished Lena Dunham’s book and honestly just loved spending time inside someone else’s very specific, neurotic, brilliant, observant inner world for a few days.

5. I finally cleaned and organized my attic. Ever since moving in, it had slowly become a dumping ground for things I didn’t know what to do with, and going up there always made me feel stressed and overwhelmed. But now it actually feels calm and usable, which is deeply satisfying.
   
   How was your week? Tell me something that made you happy?

After a significant breakup in my late twenties, I went through a phase of “I’m going to be hot” at all costs. I kept up with spray tans, eyelash extensions, gel manicures, constant hair appointments, to the point where I’d look in the mirror and feel slightly disconnected from what I saw.

Then, in my thirties, when my body started giving me a hard time because of endometriosis, I swung in the opposite direction. I stopped caring. I let my hair do whatever it wanted, never painted my nails, lived in sweats.

I was depressed, exhausted, dealing with chronic pain, and just trying to get through the day without having a meltdown, which, if I’m being honest, didn’t usually work. At that point, the idea of being “put together” felt almost absurd. I had bigger problems.

At the same time, I’ve always struggled to find the line between self-care and grooming rituals that genuinely makes me feel good and the kind of upkeep that starts to feel like a performance (and makes me deeply resent the patriarchial beauty standrds that feel like they are embedded in my bones at this point).

At almost 40 years of age, I think I’m finally arriving at a version of balance that feels more like me. A place where I can take care of myself in a way that feels intentional and move through the world feeling polished and confident. (I also think that balance looks different for everyone, and some people find it faster than others.)

I’m not claiming any groundbreaking revelations here, but these are some of the habits and principles that have made a meaningful difference.

1. A happy medium for my nails

I went bare-nailed for years because I’m objectively bad at painting my own nails, and I never want to get them done. But I’ve noticed that when my nails look even slightly polished, I feel significantly more put together.

My workaround has been something called nail concealer. It’s not quite nail polish, but it looks more refined than bare nails and is almost impossible to mess up. And when it starts to chip, you can’t really tell unless you are looking very closely. I have this mini set which is nice because I can rotate through colors, but also who has ever used an entire full-sized bottle of nail polish anyway?

2. I buy fewer, but much higher quality clothing.

As I get older, I’m realizing I’d rather own a few well-made pieces that actually hold up than a closet full of fast fashion that deteriorates with every wear.

I’ve been buying less, but choosing more intentionally, investing in things that feel good on my body and last beyond a season. I’m paying closer attention to fabrics too, because price doesn’t guarantee quality. I’m trying to be more discerning overall, building a closet I genuinely love, one that’s meant to last.

3. If you love your skincare, you’ll actually use it

A while back, I was sent a PR box with a face wash and toner that were way nicer and more expensive than anything I had ever used. When I started using them, I was like DAMN I get it. The products are so satisfying to use on a sensory level that washing my face has become something I genuinely look forward to. Now I buy this and this with my own money (a bottle is pretty big and lasts like 6 months, so it actually doesn’t feel that pricey when I think of it that way.)

4. Befriending my hair

My hair is naturally wavy in some places, straight or curly in others, depending on the day. It also tends to get frizzy and a little unruly.

I used to resent how hard it felt to manage, but I’ve been learning how to work with it instead.

Earlier this year, a hairstylist showed me a few small adjustments that have made a noticeable difference. I stopped using conditioner in the shower and instead add a small amount of a leave-in mask after air drying, which has made my hair much more manageable than I expected.

Taking a few minutes to blow dry the front pieces in the morning has also been worth it. It adds more polish than I expected!

5. The magic of a chic handbag

I was recently gifted a Vivrelle membership, and as someone who has never really been into designer bags, I usually defaulted to a beat-up tote I got for free, I was surprised by how much I enjoy it.

I picked this bag for my first month, and I’ve noticed how much of a difference it makes. There’s something about using a well made piece, the feel, the structure, the way it feels to reach into, that’s unexpectedly satisfying. I’m not sure I can go back to beat-up totes.

If you’re also not really a handbag person but kind of curious what the whole experience is, they gave me a code for a free month (code: VIOLETCLAIR). If you do try it, I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Those are a few things that have been helping me feel more put together lately. If you have anything you swear by, I’d love to hear!

xoVC

PS- Some of the links in this newsletter are affiliate links, which means I may earn a small commission if you make a purchase, at no extra cost to you. I will only ever share things I genuinely like and use.

Dear friend,

It’s been a minute, hasn’t it? The past few years have brought a lot of change, and I’ve found myself overthinking what this newsletter is supposed to be.

If you’re still on Instagram, you may have noticed I’ve been shifting away from comics on my main feed and toward interior decor content.

It’s a strange transition. I’ve been posting comics …

Read more

Valentine’s Day celebrates an idealized version of romantic love, the kind wrapped in heart-shaped boxes and pink foil. It’s reminiscent of that intoxicating first stage of falling in love, the part that feels effortless and all-consuming.

When I was younger, I wanted that kind of love more than anything. But as I got older and actually experienced it, I found it often just let me down.

Don’t get me wrong, the beginning of a relationship, the falling part, is incredible. But I think I’ve only ever been in one relationship where we made it meaningfully past that phase. And while there’s a part of me that feels sad about that, I’m grateful I at least have the reference point.

As I’ve started dipping my toes back into dating (very lightly—a topic for another day), one of my biggest priorities is not rushing the beginning. I have an awful tendency to fall too deep too soon, and for a long time, I thought it was because I was just so madly in love. But upon reflection, I’ve realized it happens because I’m codependent. It happens because I don’t take enough initiative to build a satisfying social life outside of a partner.

When I was younger, I believed love was a feeling, something that overcame you and made you want to do things for another person (and expect them to do things for you). Eventually, I learned that kind of thinking is a trap. Feelings are fleeting and fickle, and they aren’t something you want to give that much power to.

My inability to clearly define “love” drove me crazy for a really long time. Then I read bell hooks’ All About Love, and learned so much. hooks argues that we’ve confused love with cathexis, that rush of emotional investment, when really, love is a practice. It’s a combination of care, commitment, knowledge, responsibility, respect, and trust. It’s not a feeling that overtakes you. It’s a practice you commit to.

For so long, my definition of love was entirely about what I got out of it: how someone made me feel, whether they were meeting my needs, if they were showing up the way I wanted them to.

And if I didn’t feel they were meeting my expectations, I would pout, I would get upset. I would often not communicate clearly and expect them to read my mind. I thought love meant holding on tight, steering things toward what made me feel safe.

I’ve since learned that love is about working together toward mutual growth, and actually (openly + honestly) talking about what you both need. And when that growth together stops being possible, love is having the courage to walk away and choose freedom for both of you, even if it hurts.

Real love requires showing up with honesty and intention, and it applies to all your relationships, not just romantic ones.

Maybe the biggest thing I’m working on is unlearning are the very things Valentine’s Day seems to push: that love should be loud, bright, and shiny. That it should feel effortless and overwhelming. That it’s something that happens to you rather than something you choose to practice every single day.

So this Valentine’s Day, I’m celebrating the loves in my life that require showing up (my puppy, my family, my community, my faith in something greater). I’m still learning what it means to love this way. I still mess up constantly. But for the first time, I feel like I’m building something more sustainable than that fleeting, intoxicating rush I used to chase.

Books that taught me so much about love

The Road Less Traveled by M. Scott Peck This is one of the most important books I’ve ever read in my life. I just recently reread it and it hit even harder the second time around. Peck defines love as “the will to extend oneself for one’s own or another’s spiritual growth,” which completely reframed how I approached relationships.

all about love by bell hooks hooks breaks down love into its actual components: care, commitment, knowledge, responsibility, respect, and trust. She helped me understand that what I’d been calling love was often just cathexis, that intoxicating rush of emotional investment. This book is accessible, compassionate, and honestly life-changing.

The Dance of Intimacy by Harriet Lerner. This book taught me that real intimacy requires being yourself, not merging with another person. She writes about how to stay connected to others while maintaining your own identity, which is something I’ve struggled with my entire life. Essential reading if you tend toward codependency.

clarity & connection by yung pueblo yung pueblo writes about healing yourself so you can love others better, and about the difference between attachment and genuine connection. It’s the book I return to when I need a quick and easily digestible reminder about what healthy love looks like.

Emotional Intimacy by Robert Augustus Masters Masters guides you through the work of actually understanding what's happening emotionally inside you, so you can use your feelings as information instead of letting them yank you toward controlling behavior.

Happy Valentine's Day to my community. I appreciate you and always want to show up with love here.

xoVC

Hello friend,

You know how they say moving is one of life’s most stressful events? I always thought that sounded dramatic. I mean, it’s just boxes, right?

Wrong. So wrong!

I moved into my new place in December, and last week I finally emptied out my storage unit. Which meant unpacking boxes I hadn’t seen since Portland. Since the breakup. Since I packed up one version of my life and had absolutely no idea what was coming next.

A year ago, I was still in that relationship. Still in Portland. Still unaware of the utter chaos the rest of 2025 would bring.

But after a genuinely hectic couple of years, I’m ready to find stability and put down roots. So even though unpacking has been an emotional minefield (why do I keep old cards and notes?), I’m genuinely happy to be doing it.

My new place is beautiful. It needs work, but the bones are there. Even though I love it, it doesn’t feel like home yet. I left most of my furniture in Portland, so I’ve been improvising. A lot. And right now it just feels... a wee bit unsettlingly empty in here.

But I'm working on it! The first floor is finally starting to come together, and by coming together I mean it's no longer completely covered in boxes. So I made a little video to take you on a tour of it.

Come have a look into my new house!

Read more

2025 was, quite frankly, a shitstorm of a year for me.

One breakup. One cross-country move. One new puppy. Endo flaring back up. And a lot, truly a lot, of days feeling depressed and unsure about what came next.

Even so, I made a conscious effort not to tell myself (or the internet) a story where I was unlucky, doomed, or stuck. I’ve learned there is real power in how you narrate your own life.

If you have been around here long enough, you probably remember a version of me who positioned herself as a perpetual victim of…just about everything. I am not proud of that version of myself, but I am owning it.

All of that is to say, what was objectively a very hard year ended up bringing some unexpectedly beautiful things with it. One of the biggest was my move upstate.

Coming to upstate New York was the shift I did not realize how badly I needed. I love having four real seasons in all their intensity. And wow has winter been intense this year. It is currently snowy and freezing, and I am full on embracing the coziness of it.

I love the farm and the food culture here. I love the sense of community I feel. I do not know if it is because so many people I knew during my NYC years are nearby now, but the social element feels good in a way I’ve been missing for a while.

There are also great shops, great restaurants, antiques everywhere, and so much beautiful nature it almost feels unfair.

Which brings me to the part that still feels strange to type.

I feel weird even writing this, because I wanted it for a long time and also genuinely stopped assuming it was something that would automatically be in the cards for me. My life and career have never been especially linear, and for a long time this felt like a “maybe someday, but not anytime soon” kind of thing.

But through a combination of stubbornness, lots of stress, some help, and honestly a decent amount of luck, I did something very adult and very scary and…

I bought a fucking house.

It still does not fully register. It mostly feels surreal and a little fake, like I’m waiting for someone to tell me there’s been a mistake.

And to be very clear, this is not some kind of “I’ve arrived” moment. The house needs a lot of work. I am currently surrounded by boxes, lists, samples, and the growing realization that owning a home is just trading one set of problems for a much more expensive and permanent set of problems.

What it does feel like is…stability. A base! A place where I can actually exhale and start rebuilding parts of my life that have been on pause for a long time.

And that feels fucking priceless.

And one last thing, whether you’re new around here or you’ve been here for a long time and seen me through a lot of the shitstorm, I just want to say thank you. Your support, whether that’s reading, sharing, or paying for this newsletter, is something I don’t take for granted.

Love always,

VC

I just got back from visiting friends and family in South Florida, and, dare I say…it kind of helped me appreciate the cold-ass weather happening in New York.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s gorgeous there, and there’s so much to love. Like the way the silhouettes of palm trees sit against a purple, orange-y sunset sky, or the general pastel art deco of it all…swoon.

But it is also very hot and very humid, and I’m coming to terms with the fact that I simply do not love hot and humid.

I haven’t traveled very much in the last year, and being there got me thinking about what’s worth prioritizing when visiting a place. No matter where I am, South Florida or somewhere more exotic, I want to experience the local culture. I’ve never really understood the mindset of traveling to a completely different place and never leaving the resort.

Think of this email as a postcard from me. I’m sharing what I did on the trip, along with a few travel tips I swear by.

My Formula for a Good Trip

Learn a bit of the place’s history.

Being in a place after learning its lore really takes the experience to the next level. You start noticing and appreciating little details and quirks instead of just walking past them. There is an endless supply of obscure history on YouTube and podcasts, and after you fall down a few of those rabbit holes, so much clicks when you’re actually in a place.

In Palm Beach, so much of the Mediterranean Revival look traces back to Addison Mizner in the 1920s. He basically decided Palm Beach should feel like a glamorous, invented old-world escape and ran with it. So when I wandered past the Art Deco-meets-Mediterranean architecture or saw something called Mizner Place, I had that moment of recognition, like wait, I know this story.

Prioritize Local Food

I love starting at a farmer’s market when I’m in a new city. It’s such a literal way to connect to a place, the land, and the people. I went to the market and fully loaded my basket with fruit I never see at home. I tried a cacao pod for the first time, and it completely blew my mind. Little experiences like that really make a trip special for me.

Find a place to walk around without a plan.

One of my favorite ways to experience a city, something I call “walk and consume.” I pick a place, let myself wander with no real plan, and basically brick my phone so it only exists to take photos. My camera roll ends up filled with tiny details from these walks, and downtown Palm Beach absolutely did not disappoint.

Vintage/Thrifting

A fantastic way to explore a new place is through vintage and thrifting. You are guaranteed to find things you would never find anywhere else, and so much of it carries real local flavor. I spent a day wandering vintage home decor shops in Ft. Lauderdale with friends, and it was incredibly fun. I found so many things I could not realistically bring home, but I did manage to snag these crystal, vaguely art deco candle holders, which felt like the perfect souvenir.

Travel-Related Things I Love

1. Electrolyte packets. Planes = dehydrating as hell. Which is why after I pass through security, I like buying a giant bottle of water and dumping an electrolyte packet in.

2. Compression socks. I’m a big fan of wearing compression socks on flights and these are the best ones I’ve found.

3. Kindle case. This is the trip that made me realize I need a kindle case, and I’ve got my eye on the ones from this brand. How cute is the Florida-themed toile?

4. Kindle. My kindle is my ultimate travel friend.

5. Pain stim toy. I recently learned about pain stimming and now I bring these on flights to help soothe me when I feel anxious during take off or turbulence.

6. Eye mask with built-in headphones. This thing is the GOAT for traveling.

7. Mini travel pillow. I’m not a fan of those wraparound neck pillow things and prefer getting a window seat and taking a nice quality mini pillow with me. As a bonus, I can use it if the pillows where I’m staying suck.

8. CBD gummies for flying anxiety.

9. Face masks. I love love love these masks, and so does my skin after a day of travelling.

   ---

   So they ya have it, my formula for a good trip. Anything I’m missing? Or should know about? Let’s talk about it in the comments!
   
   Thank you for being here, I so appreciate you!

   
   xoVC
   

For the Food Person Who Is Also Aesthetic as Hell

Decorative Bowl
Unpaper Towels
Blue and White Cutting Board
Butter Bell (This thing is incredible, it keeps butter fresh at room temperature so you always have soft, spreadable butter in a pinch.)
Measuring Cup
Scalloped Place Mats
Wusthof Classic Knife (This knife is incredible quality, and now comes in cutie colors)

More of my favorite kitchen things here!

For Your Pet (or a Pet Person)

Faux Fur Dog Sweater
Pink + Green Dog Collar
Custom Pet Ring
Peruvian Dog Sweater
Elevated Food Bowl
Wool Cat Bed
Bobble Treat Dispenser (the BEST puzzle toy, I use this for Apple everyday)

More here!

For the Person Who’d Rather Be at Home

Robe
Sleep Mask
Wool Slippers
National Parks Candle (I LOVE LOVE LOVE the way this candle smells)
Croissant Candle
Quilt
Espresso Mug + Saucer

More here!

For the Sensory Sensitive Person

Fidget Ring
Ear Plugs (just got these and they are really comfortable)
Thinking Putty
Weighted Blanket
Sensitive Book
Headphones
Rainbow White Noise Machine

More here!

Artsy Things

Painter’s Mug
Calder-esque Mobile
Color Wheel Pin
Art Dice
Matisse Coffee Table Book
Ceramic Brush Holder
Pencil Case

More here!

Hope you enjoyed this and found it helpful. If you have questions, just ask. Some of these links are affiliate, which means I earn a small percentage of the sale at no extra cost to you.

xoVC

When I left New York City for the West Coast, I was ready to burn my life down, walk away from the ashes, and never look back. I was convinced that the New York version of me, along with most of the people, places, and memories attached to her, were all holding me back. I wanted a clean slate.

But instead of finding a better life out West, I was violently humbled.

Since I never made a big leap like that before, I had no idea how hard it would be to start over in a new city without a support system. I truly believed I would quickly find the perfect home, the right friends, and a general sense of belonging.

It took six months of living out of Airbnbs and sublets before I found a place that finally felt like mine (and to be fair, I loved that home). But real connection, friendships, and community? Well…That never quite happened.

At first, I tried. I really did. But after a while, the effort started to feel pointless, so I stopped. I told myself, and the whole of the internet, that I just wasn’t designed to be social. That was that.

And while it’s true that I need less socializing than most, I’ve stopped writing myself off as someone who can’t maintain close friendships. In Portland, I leaned too hard on my relationship, expecting my partner to fill every space that friends and community should have. And as we all know, that did not go well.

Looking back, I can see that the real issue was my black-and-white thinking. Not just in that situation, but in nearly every area of my life. My brain has always wanted to make sense of things by labeling them as good or bad, right or wrong.

I used to admire that about myself, the certainty, the conviction. It made me feel strong. And as someone who shares her life online, I have noticed that kind of confidence performs well. But the older I get, the more I realize that living this way leaves very little room for grace or growth.

I have read that black and white thinking can be a trait of autism, but whether that is why I am like this or not, it is not how I want to be.

Last week, I was reminded how much that mindset can cost.

I learned that the father of one of my oldest friends had died. We had been close since middle school, but we lost touch during what I now think of as my “burning down my life” phase. Her dad always seemed larger than life to me. He was warm, funny, and charming as hell. An all-around wonderful person. When I heard the news, a sharp pain pierced my chest.

I texted her, unsure if she would even want to hear from me after so much silence. I was so relieved when she responded. I drove to my hometown for the first time in six years and went to the shiva.

Walking into her family’s home and seeing familiar faces from childhood, I felt something I had not expected: comfort.

It made me realize how small my world had become when I decided everything from my past was something to escape. How much life I shut out when I let black and white thinking convince me that moving forward meant erasing what came before.

I am finally realizing that for me, healing is not about burning things down and starting again. It is about sorting through, forgiving, and allowing nuance to exist.

Do I regret burning my life down?

In ways, yes. But generally, I don’t think so. If I had not, I would not be able to appreciate everything I am so lucky to have here in New York.

5 Hyperfixations

1. Lily Allen’s new album
Like everyone else on the internet right now, I am obsessed. There’s something powerful about a heartbreak album from a 40-year-old divorced mother. Also “Tennis” is such a bop I’ve had it on repeat all week.

2. Laws of Human Nature by Robert Greene
It’s rare that a book makes me audibly say yes, yes, oh my god yes while reading, but that’s what happened with The Laws of Human Nature. Now I am on a mission to read everything Robert Greene. I followed it up with Mastery, which I also loved. I’m now trudging through The 48 Laws of Power (his most famous one) and tbh, it’s not quite grabbing me like the others.

3. Mobiles
Such an underrated decor item. Why did we all collectively decide they’re only for babies? I’d love to get my hands on this one from Etsy.

4. Cozy wool slippers
I am a complete homebody, and once it’s cold, I live in my slippers. This cutie wool pair is officially on my wishlist.

5. Cake pops
I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m on a full cake pop kick and can’t get enough. The polar bear one from Starbucks? Elite.

Weird Art Club Update

When I started the Weird Art Club, I said it would be a one-month experiment and that I’d see where it went. I must say, it’s been SUCH a joy to see all of your creativity come to life. I loved seeing your art, reading your reflections, and watching how everyone put their own spin on the prompts.

For now, I’m going to take a step away and think about how to make it even better when the time feels right to bring it back. I have a lot of ideas for how to evolve it into something even more intentional and inspiring, so I’m going to take the time to figure that out.

In the meantime, I’ll definitely be bringing more creativity-focused content into this newsletter and keeping the chat open for anyone who wants to share their work (please do, that was my favorite part!!!) Maybe I’ll start posting a monthly art prompt there in the meantime? I’m not totally sure yet, but I do know how grateful I am to everyone who joined me in this first round. It really meant a lot to see what you made and how you showed up ❤️

xoVC

It’s been just under seven months since I moved back to New York, and a few things have become clear. First, I really do love my little cottage in the woods: it’s been exactly what I needed during this in-between season.

And second, I think I’m ready to stretch my legs and see what’s next.

As much as I’ve loved romanticizing my cozy 400-square-foot space, living here with a puppy and working from is feeling tight. So….I’ve officially started my home search!

It’s been my dream to buy a home for decades, and while I’ve always been working towards it…there were many points when I thought it wouldn’t be possible. However, I’ve *finally* reached a spot where circumstances are aligned…and I *think* I’m ready.

I’m pretty sure the Hudson Valley is where I’m meant to stay. The loneliness I felt in Portland has been replaced by this deep sense of belonging and rightness that I can feel deep in my bones.

Something I’ve realized during this process is that home shopping feels a lot like online dating. While I’ve never bought a house before, I’ve certainly dated a ton…and well…the similarities are uncanny.

As with online dating, if I don’t like the photos or the vibe I’m getting through the screen, I’ve learned not to “give it a chance.” It just wastes time and emotional energy.

Another thing is that you will never get everything you want in one person or one house. If I meet a guy who’s 6’3” but has the emotional maturity of a toddler, that’s a dealbreaker. Same goes for a house that’s perfect except for being right on a busy road. You’ve got to decide which flaws you can live with and which ones you can’t, and accept that nothing will ever be perfect.

Unlike dating (or maybe just like it, depending on where I’m at mentally) going to “meet” a new house is actually fun. It scratches that part of me that’s equal parts nosy neighbor and HGTV lover. There’s something endlessly fascinating about stepping into a little piece of private interior for a second.

Weird Art Club Week #3

Now, onto Weird Art Club updates! (This week’s prompt might just be my favorite so far.)

Read more

Hi friend,

We are knee deep in October, and boy is it lovely here.

October practically begs us to lean into the weird and playful. I mean, is there a more freakish holiday than Halloween? Is anything delightful + lol-worthy than watching the most Normie Norma adorn her lawn with skulls, fake headstones, and plastic spiderwebs? I don’t think so!

I keep reminding myself, “You’re in Upstate, it’s your favorite season, embrace it.” But somehow I still get stuck. So I made a list of 15 weird, fun, inner-child-loving fall activities that I genuinely hope to check off before the season ends.

In honor of what I consider the best (and weirdest) month of the year, here they are. If you do any of them, please tell me (and send pics!)

1. Pack a thermos of something fall-tasting (I love hot cinnamon spice tea) and spend an afternoon wandering the aisles of your local library, then sit down and browse whatever captures your attention.

2. Hunt down the ugliest Halloween sweater you can find and wear it with pride.

3. Host a witchy ceremony: candles, oracle cards, a little bonfire. A dramatic cape is optional, but highly recommended.

4. Solo dine at a classic diner and BYO coloring book and pencils. Order a slice of the seasonal pie if available.

5. Get dressed and channel back-to-school vibes as an adult. Think plaid skirt, stockings, blazer, loafers or….whatever makes you feel like a chic academic.

6. Take a train ride. Get a window seat. Alternate between reading a paperback and staring dramatically out the window. (Try to keep your phone tucked away for as long as you can stand it!)

   

7. Ride your bike through peak foliage and pretend you’re flying.

8. Construct a blanket-and-pillow pit and binge 90s Halloween movies.

9. String up twinkle lights and let their soft glow bring cozy vibes to your home as the earlier darkness approaches.

10. Track down the best candy apple near you and make the trip to get it! (This is how I discovered there’s an entire shop dedicated to them near me.)

11. Put your pet in a Halloween costume and take way too many photos of them. Extra points if you’ve got a matching costume.

12. Visit a historic house museum and lose yourself wandering it and imagining what life was like before all of the crazy technology we have now.

    

13. Make an aggressively autumnal simmer pot and pretend it’s a bubbling cauldron summoning seasonal vibes to your home.

14. Stop at a little farmstand shop and buy yourself whatever random treat calls your name.

15. Dedicate a whole afternoon to wandering around town collecting scraps and trinkets to paste into your journal.

    ---

The Weird Art Club (my weekly club where I share a prompt and we all make art, talk about the process, and cheer each other on) has been AMAZING.

My favorite part is when members post their creations in the chat. I love getting a glimpse into everyone’s mind, seeing how each person interprets the prompt and infuses it with their own vibe.

Last week’s prompt involved getting into nature and creating with found materials. I went on this stunning trail and came back with a pile of rocks that I couldn’t wait to paint a la Elizabeth Saloka:

The results: a fruit bowl, a T-bone steak, and a tiny yellow cab. The cab might be my favorite. Can you tell I’m happy to be back in New York?

This week’s prompt will be announced in the chat, so if you want to join the community (which honestly is my favorite part), make sure you’re a paid subscriber!

Subscribe now

Thank you for being here. It really means a lot.

xoVC

Hi fellow weirdo (is that what we’re calling ourselves now? lol)

How did your week go? Did you make time to sit down and create?

If you didn’t, no worries at all. This club is an experiment, and we’re figuring it out as we go. The whole point is to make space for creativity in a way that feels good (not forced!) Even if you didn’t make anything, come chat…

Read more

Welcome to the very first Weird Art Club meeting. Can you call an email a meeting? Well…I just did.

I can’t even explain how excited I am that you are here. It’s always scary to start a new thing, especially if that new thing involves inviting other people to join you. It brings back that childhood feeling of what if nobody comes to my birthday party?

If you’re like, “wait, what the heck is the weird art club?” you might have missed Sunday’s email, but I’ll catch you up now. If you already know the gist, feel free to skip right to the supply list + prompts.

What is the weird art club?

Weird art club is about prioritizing letting yourself create and getting in touch with your authenticity over making something “useful” or “good".” You will not find step-by-step crafts here, but rather open-ended prompts that encourage you to get weird about it.

Why weird?
Because everyone has a little weirdo inside of them who is dying to come out and play, often this weirdo has been covered under layers of societal expectations, leaving us feeling detached and unhappy without really knowing why. Our job with this practice is to excavate through the layers of BS and let our sweet little weirdo out to play.

Why do this together?

Because going solo is easy to abandon, with a group, you’ll have me nudging you along with weekly prompts, plus a running chat where we can share what we made (or just talk about what came up in the process).

What are my credentials?
Well, I’ve been making weird art professionally for a decade. I’ve also had plenty of run-ins with my own mental health, and this little practice has pulled me out of the muck more times than I can count. It’s too good to hoard, so I’m throwing it out into the world to share.

Why now?

Because most of us (myself very much included) are walking around like detached digital zombies, and nothing yanks me out of that state faster than creating something with my own hands.

Also, I want to weave in a seasonal focus. Paying attention to the little rhythms of the year makes me feel human again. And honestly, October is my favorite time of year, so this feels like the perfect moment to kick things off.

How it works:

• Each month, I’ll share an optional supply list. (Use what you already have if that feels better.)

• Each week, I’ll send out a new prompt or exercise.

• You’ll set aside an hour: queue up a playlist, pour your beverage of choice, spread your art supplies, and (for the love of your sanity!) ban yourself from looking at social media.

• Share what you made and how it went in the group chat. (Sharing is totally optional. The real goal is reconnecting with your intuition and creative side!)

• At the end of the month, we’ll hop on Zoom for a cozy little show-and-tell, where you can share what you made, talk about how it all felt, or just hang out and listen (This is also optional, but I would LOVE to have you!)

So okay, you ready? Let’s gooo!

Read more

And honestly, I’m SO glad you feel this way! Because this is something that has been MAJORLY on my mind. In our increasingly digital times, many of us struggle with feeling more disconnected than ever before (from not just others, but ourselves!)

Prioritizing play and creativity is one of the things that makes me feel most like myself. It supports my mental health in ways nothing else can. Yet, it’s also the first thing to fall off the list when life gets busy (it’s also paradoxically one of the first things I let go of when my mental health is slipping).

Which is why this October, I’m going to start holding myself accountable for setting aside intentional time each week to sit and create. And I’m bringing my newsletter baddies along for the experiment!

One of my favorite things is hosting art dates, where I lay out some art supplies and a friend and I hang out while we create side-by-side and just let ourselves get…well…weird!

My dream would be is to have all of you over for one big art date around a huge communal table. Since that’s not possible right now (I don’t even have a dining table in my cottage 😭), I’ve come up with something to approximate that, and I hope you’ll join me!

I am SO excited to introduce:

What is the weird art club?

Weird art club is about prioritizing letting yourself create and getting in touch with your authenticity over making something “useful” or “good”.” You will not find step-by-step crafts here, but rather open-ended prompts that encourage you to well….get weird about it.

Why weird?
Because everyone has a little weirdo inside of them who is dying to come out and play, often this weirdo has been covered under layers of societal expectations, leaving us feeling detached and unhappy without really knowing why. Our mission with this practice is to excavate through the layers of BS and let our sweet little weirdo out to play.

Why do this together?

Because going solo is easy to abandon, with a group, you’ll have me nudging you along with weekly prompts, plus a running chat where we can share what we made (or just talk about what came up in the process).

What are my credentials?
Well, I’ve been making weird art professionally for a decade. I’ve also had plenty of run-ins with my own mental health, and this little practice has pulled me out of the muck more times than I can count. It’s too good to hoard, so I’m throwing it out into the world to share.

Why now?

Because most of us (myself very much included) are walking around like detached digital zombies, and nothing yanks me out of that state faster than creating something with my own hands.

Also, I want to weave in a seasonal focus. Paying attention to the little rhythms of the year makes me feel human again. And honestly, October is my favorite time of year, so this feels like the perfect moment to kick things off.

Here’s how it works:

• Each month, I’ll share an optional supply list, though you’re free to work with anything you already have.

• Each week, I’ll send out a new prompt or exercise. These won’t be step-by-step crafts, but more of an open invitation to sit down with your supplies, and let yourself be intuitive and playful. And weird, please get weird.

• Most prompts will be inspired by the season we’re in, because IMO that’s another great way to feel healthily connected.

• You’ll set aside one hour each week* (put it on your calendar and treat it like it matters!) where you cue up a playlist, pour your favorite bevy, spread out your art supplies on the table, and ban yourself from scrolling social media.

• There will be a running chat where we share what we made and talk about what came up in the process.

• At the end of the month, I’ll host a show-and-tell video chat where we talk about how the month went.

*Though the weekly practice is highly encouraged, you can also participate monthly, biweekly, or whenever works best for you. What matters most is carving out a little space to nurture your creative/intuitive side!

I’m thinking of it as an experiment for now, one that is subject to change and evolve. Your feedback and participation will shape what it becomes. (If October goes well, I’d love to keep it going!)

Art Hour Club is available to paid subscribers of this newsletter.
Which means for just $5/ month you can be a part of this creative self-care experiment!

In the next few days, I’ll be sending out the inaugural AHC email to paid subscribers, so be sure to look out for it!

If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask in the comments!

See you at Art Hour Club!

xoVC

The other day, I was scrolling TikTok when I came across something called a “millennial cringe compilation”, which is essentially a mashup of millennials being playful in ways that can best be described as childlike.

@cakeinme1#core #millenial #fy #joke

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The comments were brutal, and most looked like this:

“Why do they want to be kids so bad?”

“They can’t cope with adulthood.”

Admittedly, some of the videos were undeniably “cringe,” and watching them gave me a shudder of secondhand embarrassment. But beneath that reaction was an undeniable self-consciousness.

In recent years I’ve worked hard to reconnect with my inner child and peel away a mask that became suffocating, so seeing my peers mocked for embracing their own version of childlike playfulness unsettled me.

That said, I get the impulse of these Gen Zers. In my early twenties, I would have rolled my eyes at the kind of overt earnestness those videos put on display.

I actually have a memory that haunts me to this day.

In my early 20s, I sublet an apartment from a woman who was about the age I am now. I’d host pregames there before my friends and I went out drinking ourselves into oblivion. One night, we discovered a fill-in-the-blank journal on her bookshelf, the kind meant as a therapy tool, guiding you to write about your feelings and goals. My friends and I passed it around like a party game, laughing at her earnest answers.

I am still embarrassed by how mean we were, and by how little respect I showed for her privacy. It is one of those moments from before I began real self-reflection and healing, before I understood how to respect other people’s boundaries, that I now look back on with deep shame.

And the irony is, I’ve essentially become the woman we mocked: therapy-going, self-reflective, and middle-aged, with shelves full of earnest books and journals.

If a group of 22-year-olds got into my place today, they would for sure mock me into oblivion.

They’d laugh at the obvious self-help titles, the way I write my excited little breakthroughs in the margins. They’d see it all as evidence of someone trying too hard and caring too much. And that’s exactly what I would have thought back then too. It’s exactly what I did think.

At 22, you don’t really know who you are, so choosing a mask and clinging to it can feel thrilling and relieving. You want to be perceived as cool, detached, unbothered. But what you’re really doing is outrunning yourself, and you haven’t yet lost steam.

Eventually, the mask starts to feel unbearably stifling, and you realize it’s left you out of touch with yourself and profoundly unhappy.

That’s when the real work of self-discovery begins, and the best route there is through work that is embarrassing, earnest, and yes… 'cringe.'

Because you didn’t actually lose your authenticity, it was right there when you were a kid, and it’s since been buried.

Which is why the quickest way back to yourself is through what looks most childlike: silliness, curiosity, play for its own sake. That’s where you rediscover who you are and what lights you up, and where authenticity finally rises again after years of being pressed down by the performance of coolness.

And honestly, this is what I want to lean into more here in this newsletter: creativity, play, and the practices that bring us back to ourselves.

More journaling, more art projects, more experiments in being a little weird and childlike as a way of getting closer to authenticity.

So my question for you, dear reader, is this: would you be into that sort of thing?

Think prompts, creative exercises, little experiments to spark playfulness? It’s a side of me I’ve spent so much time on in recent years and would love to share more of with you!

As always thank you for being here. Your support means the damn world to me!

xoVC

How do you become someone who posts comics online for hundreds of thousands of people? Many assume it started with art school, or a hobby, or maybe even a bad breakup.

The truth is, it started with politics.

Back in 2015, during the Clinton–Trump election, I began posting comics that were pro-Hillary and deeply critical of Trump. I wasn’t very experienced with comics, so they were raw, sometimes crude, and to my surprise, they took off.

My audience was mostly like-minded liberals, so my work landed. Other than the occasional comment about “both sides being terrible,” my posts were met with encouragement. They went viral, and for a moment, I really believed I was helping.

But after 2016, something shifted. Just as fashion has broken apart into micro-trends that barely last a season, politics on the internet fractured into subgroups, each with its own definition of what it meant to be a “real leftist.”

Social media poured gasoline on our divisions, rewarding outrage, callouts, and purity tests. Over time, those incentives eroded the solidarity that once held the left together. What once felt like a movement began to feel like a contest for moral high ground.

Increasingly, the outrage turned inward. Criticizing someone slightly to your left could get you more attention and validation than criticizing the right. The result is a culture more invested in proving purity than building power.

For me, the consequences were personal. I stopped making political comics regularly. I still slip sometimes when I can’t help myself, but mostly I censor, second-guess, or stay quiet when I feel the urge to speak up. What once felt like a community now feels like a tribunal. And I know I’m not the only one. Many people with platforms have chosen silence over the risk of being dragged by their own side.

The left has become less about solidarity and more about moral superiority. Just as micro-trends have made fashion feel disposable, micro-factions have made leftist politics feel meaningless. We’ve forgotten that politics is not about being the most humane or the most correct. It is about power. And while the right remains relatively focused, disciplined, and united, the left is busy cannibalizing itself.

I think this dynamic is one of the main reasons American politics feels so hopeless right now. But I don’t think it has to stay that way. If solidarity is no longer the default, maybe it has to become a practice. What would it look like if we treated coalition-building as a discipline? What could we accomplish if we accepted imperfection for the sake of progress?

I don’t have the answers, but I know this: disagreement is natural. Division is fatal.

So I’ll leave you with a question: when you look at the movements and causes you care about, is your contribution about being the purest voice in the room, or about building power for the greater movement?

Okay I just needed to get that off my chest.

Love you and thank you for being here,

xoVC

1. The puppy blues are so so real.

Before I considered getting a dog, I didn’t know the puppy blues were a thing. Then I did some Googling and was like: Oh. This is terrifying. It almost stopped me from going through with it.

Honestly, though, I think learning about puppy blues should be required. You should spend at least an hour scrolling through the horror stories, watching the TikToks of people crying on their bathroom floor. Because this is not some cute, easy little thing.

If you’re not prepared, you will regret it. Even if you are prepared, you will still probably regret your choice at times. You will ask yourself daily how anyone else got through it, and you will feel a very ugly envy looking at someone else’s calm older dog who just sits there like an angel.

Thankfully, they aren’t permanent, which brings me to:

2. Puppyhood is an investment.

You pour in more time, more patience, and energy than you knew you had, and only later do you start to see the return. Apple is five months old and he’s made great progress with training, but he’s also still needy, annoying, and regularly doing things that make me want to scream. Some days, he regresses so badly that I wonder if we’re going permanently backwards. But there are also moments when I catch glimpses of the absolutely incredible dog he’s becoming, and that’s what keeps me going.

3. It takes a while to connect.

When I lived in Portland, I got very attached to my ex’s dog. Like, unreasonably attached. That dog and I were in sync in a way that felt cosmic. She was my sweet little baby, and honestly, saying goodbye to her was monumentally harder than saying goodbye to my ex.

So when I first got Apple, I felt some sadness, regret, and resentment that we weren’t connecting like I had with Coco. It was unreasonable, but real. What I had to remind myself is that my bond with Coco wasn’t instant either. It took us months to reach it.

I am holding onto the hope that Apple and I will get there eventually, and each day feels like a step closer. The more he grows up, the more I notice his little quirks and rhythms, and the more I fall in love with him. We’re not at Coco-level yet, but I can finally feel the bond taking shape.

4. Be prepared to make new friends everywhere you go.

When I first moved to New York, I forced myself to get out of my house by doing things like walking trails, visiting the farmers’ market, and bringing my laptop to coffee shops. For the most part, nobody talked to me. Then I got Apple and started bringing him along, and it was a completely different story. People stop me everywhere, and of course he’s a total ham so they instantly fall in love with him.

5. But also be prepared for lots of small talk and answering the same questions over and over.

The whole being-approached-in-public thing is a double-edged sword. On one hand, the human interaction feels nice, but on the other, it can feel like tedious small talk that I am not always in the mood for.

People ask the same questions again and again, like “is that a mini or full-sized?,” and even if you do not quite understand what they are asking you end up just nodding along or flat-out lying because you do not feel like explaining. Sometimes when people ask if Apple is a mini collie I just say yes, because I am not in the mood to get into the fact that sheltie is its own breed and blah blah blah.

6. It is expensive

Getting a dog comes with numerous upfront costs. You have to buy all the gear, equipment, and random doo-dads. You have to get vaccines. You have to take them to training (you technically don’t have to, but I recommend it, it has helped Apple a lot). You have to get them spayed or neutered (which I was just quoted $900 for).

And then there are the surprises, like when they eat something they definitely should not, and you find yourself at the vet paying a bill you never planned for. I have dropped so much money on this dog.

7. The guilt is real

Once I could finally start leaving him at home for longer stretches, the guilt kicked in. No one warned me about how intense it feels to be out running errands, glance at the puppy cam, and see your dog being a perfect little angel. The ache of love that comes with it is almost unbearable. I remember standing in the middle of a grocery store, staring at my phone, and seriously questioning if I should keep shopping or abandon my cart completely and sprint home to be with him.

And now for the story of how Apple came into my life…

Read more

I recently did one of those introduction posts on Threads where you share a few simple truths about yourself. Mine read:

I turn 40 next year. No children, no partner (and no desire for the former!) I’m pretty content living in my lil woodland cottage, making art, spoiling my dog, eating many vegetables from the garden, and going to bed at 9.

To my surprise, that post became my most viral threads post ever: almost 12,000 likes and 1000 comments. I couldn’t believe how much stating my age alongside a few basic facts about my life stirred people up.

But of course it makes sense, because a woman turning 40 and choosing her own happiness over expectations is still considered controversial.

In the 1960s, there was a TV show called That Girl, seen as scandalous at the time because it dared to center on a single woman moving to New York after college to chase her dreams.

Today, a single postgrad moving to the city is as ordinary as ordering takeout on a Tuesday night. I think a similar shift will eventually come for women like me, who are single, middle-aged, without kids, and finding fulfillment in that reality.

But then again, I understand why it can feel hard to swallow. There was a time when the demands of society dictated my every move. In my twenties, the noise was deafening. Each birthday felt like a ticking clock, each year a reminder that time was slipping away. My whole life revolved around finding a partner, and I even convinced myself I wanted kids (thank all that is holy that I didn’t).

My younger self would have called my current life a failure, yet I’m happier and more at peace now than she ever imagined possible.

Age-related doubts still creep in, though now they mostly center on my career. I’ve spent the past decade building a life as an artist and content creator, and sometimes I wonder if my work carries less weight now that I’m no longer in my twenties (and soon not even in my thirties.)

But when I think it through, the logic collapses. My perspective is sharper than ever. I’ve gained more knowledge, more confidence, and more self-acceptance than I ever had in my so-called prime. Why would that make my work worth less?

It doesn’t. That noise is just the cultural script I absorbed as a kid, the one that says women’s value lies in beauty and youth, and that if we insist on aging, we’d better do it the ‘right’ way. (Which means: marry, have kids, fade into the background, and somehow still look young and fuckable, lest our poor husbands suffer.)

These days I care a lot more about being authentic and happy than about finding a partner. I’ve stopped hiding the ‘weirdo’ I always was. No one else can give me permission to live this way, and the more confidently I hold my own permission slip, the more others try to snatch it. Usually because they never gave one to themselves.

So when the noise tells me to shrink, disappear, or fade into irrelevance because of my age, I remind myself: that’s just another attempt to take the slip. And I’m not handing it over. Not to commenters online, not to cultural expectations, and not to the toxic voice in my head.

Until society catches up, I’m fine being ‘that girl.’ Not the 1960s version, but the 2020s one: almost 40, living in the woods, making art, eating vegetables, and building a life that actually feels good to me.

Being nearly 40 and living exactly as I please should not be revolutionary. Yet since it still is, I’ll be loud about it, for myself and for anyone who needs to be reminded that it is more than okay to choose differently.

xoVC