early may: a 10pm bedtime

a reflection on this phase of my life

In two weeks, I will be graduating from my Screenwriting MFA program at USC.

I’m thrilled, not just because it’s a major achievement, but also because it marks the end of the six (!) years I spent in a university classroom. The back-to-back bachelor’s and master’s degree was undeniably a long haul, but I’m genuinely glad I did it, and feel that if you have the motivation/capability and know what type of advanced degree you’re interested in obtaining (one of my goals was always to further my education in creative fiction), then I feel it’s worth it.

I think it’s safe to say I’m also fairly done with school. Not in a bad way, but I’m excited to branch out beyond education and begin living outside the confines of an academic schedule. Most days, I loved balancing classes with work and my hobbies, but some days, the jumping from place to place and subject to subject grew tiring. I feel fortunate to have such a varied, colorful life, but I feel excited to step into this next chapter where there is a bit more focus in the form of a 9-to-5.

Not only have I become a much better writer in the past two years, but I have also become a different person. Naturally, time will do that to you. I also think that moving across the country and situating yourself in a new environment with an entirely new social group will encourage you to confront the person that you are and grapple with the one that you want to become. When faced with this head-on, I realized that I spent more time investing in activities that would later become ‘good stories’ than I did in my physical and, subsequently, mental health.

When I was in undergrad, I think I valued spontaneity and had more of a drive for late-night trips to our local Wingo’s or a cappella karaoke shenanigans that began at 10 pm. And while I can still appreciate those things from time to time, as I still do value a good story, I’ve realized that I really, really, really, really, prefer being in my bed by 10 pm.

At one point, I thought this was just a preference. I could push it off some nights, or most nights, if I got an offer to hang out at a New Jersey diner or stare up at the stars by the Washington Monuments. Once I got to Los Angeles, though, the nighttime activities started piling up. Concerts. Parties. Screenings. Shows. And this is clearly a hyperbole, but nothing here seems to start before 9 pm.

After a few months of attempting to stay true to my Partiful commitments, I began to take note of the fact that I seldom felt excited to attend any event that began after 9 pm. Or even 8 pm, for that matter. And it wasn’t because those events didn’t interest me. It’s because I knew that, because of my circadian rhythm, I would still be waking up between six and seven the following morning, exhausted and unprepared to function for the coming day.

Then, it hit me. I care about how I feel. I care about how I feel a lot.

I’ve spent the past two years navigating my relationship with my body. Which was a major adjustment, because I didn’t think much about it in college. But since deciding I wanted to spend more time focused inward, I’ve spent meal after meal identifying what foods give me the most energy (I’m leaning Mediterranean diet now), and which don’t seem to benefit my moods (drinking coffee will undeniably lead to a crash or an anxiety spike or both). I’ve spent months in Los Angeles workout classes trying on different exercise routines before concluding that yoga combined with light cardio is the most sustainable and effective way for me to consistently move my body. I’ve run through a bevy of mental-health-related books, and I’m sure I’ll comb through a pile more before I feel satiated.

me coming home from yoga

On that same front, I used to struggle a fair amount with my mental health. I can’t imagine that will change dramatically in the future, but I do feel that this time has enabled me to have a better grasp on what will trigger my fight-or-flight responses and what I have control over. I know that I need to be responsive to important emails, but that I can mute my text notifications while at work. I know that when no one is expecting me, I can feel free to turn my phone off and walk away from it. I know that meditation is genuinely useful to me in moments of crisis, and the 1000 minutes I’ve spent on the Headspace app are proof of that. It may seem silly, but I don’t think I was even slightly aware of any of these things when I was 21.

Not because I felt pressured, but because I just hadn’t really thought about what was best for me.

When I take care of myself, by eating in season or going for a short run or highlighting passages in a book on attachment theory or just leaving my phone at home during a movie, I feel happier. I feel as though I’m leading a life that feels meaningful, purposeful, and genuine. And that’s not to say that will last forever, but it’s authentic to me in this moment.

I don’t think that there’s any lifestyle that works for everyone. I find joy in hearing the stories of my friends who can close out the club, because I know it brings them the same pleasure as a 6 am yoga class brings me. By the same token, I know people who find pleasure in leaving that party three hours before they attend that workout class, because it allows them to feel as though they’re soaking the most out of life.

Your decisions, your choices, your sacrifices — they’re all yours.

To that end, I think this period of my life taught me to push back against the media monoliths that are currently being used to classify women. You don’t have to be a clean girl, or a brat girl, or a coastal cowgirl, or whatever else is floating around your For Tou page. You have to take the time to find what works for you, and let that propel you until you grow, change, and find a new set of needs. And yes, you’ll have to make sacrifices at most turns, but you’ll start to figure out what kind of things you’re willing to miss out on.

I’m not sure what comes next in my life, but I’m sure that for the foreseeable future, I will most definitely be hitting the hay at 10pm.

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Songs (many) that will remind me of my time in Hollywood:

• Know You Now by Amy Winehouse

• Sweet by Lana Del Rey

• Beverly Hills by Doechii

• Ladies Room by Olivia Dean

• Free by Florence + The Machine

• 15 Minutes by Sabrina Carpenter

• Girl Song by beabadoobee

• Nothing from Nothing by Billy Preston

• Light On by Maggie Rogers

• Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan

• Sun Bleached Flies by Ethel Cain