I viewed makeup application as a purely aesthetic ritual—a surface-level task involving light brushes and sponges that, while effective for coverage, did absolutely nothing for the underlying tension
I viewed my sleep as a passive event—a black box where I simply “shut down” and hoped for the best, regardless of how I woke up the next
I viewed hunger as a “biological error”—a nagging, uncomfortable signal that my body was running out of fuel and that I needed to “top up” immediately to avoid
I treated my skincare routine like a high-stakes science experiment—investing in premium cleansers and concentrated serums—all while completely ignoring the one ingredient I was using in the largest
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I have always thought of coconuts as a “flavor gimmick”—something reserved for piña coladas or sugary macaroons that, while delicious, felt more like a dessert-trap than a functional
I viewed my workouts as purely physical tasks—a grind of lifting weights or logging miles, where the goal was to “tire myself out” rather than “wake my brain
For a long time, I viewed “loaf-pan baking” as the domain of heavy, sugar-laden comfort treats—things that guaranteed a blood-sugar spike and a mid-afternoon “crave-crash.” Previously, I assumed
I viewed my makeup routine as a purely functional “cover-up” session—a way to disguise fatigue, mask a breakout, or simply look “presentable” for the demands of the day.
I viewed “spring cleaning” as a battle of chemical warfare—I’d arm myself with aggressive, neon-colored sprays, bleach-heavy scrubs, and synthetic-scented wipes, believing that the stronger the “chemical sting”
