Era’s Tour (of My Life)
Because sometimes, the reboot is the plot twist.
We crave a plot twist. A main character moment. A dopamine hit.
Something, anything, to cut through the static.
So we chase it — like it’s a limited-edition pop-up: A fleeting spark of validation from a shirtless Grindr match who says “you’re cute” and then vanishes like a brunch table at Dishoom on a Sunday. That rush when you walk into a party in a carefully planned ‘fit, pretending not to scan the room for someone you’ve definitely already spoken to (or worse, kissed at Superstore). The instant high from your bi-weekly fresh fade, courtesy of your go-to barber — shout out Shorties, you’re the real MVP.
We do it all — not because we’re shallow, but because for one glimmering second, it feels like change is happening. Like we’re rewriting the narrative. Like we’re in control. Like the remix of us might finally top the charts. (Or at least break into the top 5).
But then the high fades. The fade grows out. The hot guy unmatches. The motivation dissolves into the same overpriced iced matcha (Watermelon this time, because why not romanticise hydration in the summer?). And we’re left wondering: what now?
Because the truth is: shaking things up doesn’t always mean shaking things off. — Thanks, Taylor.
Are we now living in a world where “eras” have become the new milestones? Do we need to declare a “new era” every few months just to remind ourselves we’re evolving?
The Job Quitting Era — where you work your soul-sucking one-month notice like you're serving jury duty — making polite small talk, knowing full well you’ll never see these people again.
The New Flat Era — where it’s not so much about location as it is about proving you still have the audacity to start fresh in this rent-gobbling metropolis.
The Dating Era — when every good morning text feels like the beginning of something and every dinner date could be your last “first.” Where we mistake effort for interest and attention for intimacy, but go along with it anyway. Because hope — no matter how misguided — still feels better than nothing.
The Single Era — full of autonomy, bed space, and enjoying a nice G&T whilst watching the week’s latest Doctor Who at 7pm on BBC1 (not sponsored). Where you tell yourself you're thriving, even if some nights you go home thinking, "Well, that was cute… but what now?" And isn’t it funny how being single can feel empowering one moment, and crushing the next — depending entirely on whether Kylie Minogue (is there any other ‘Kylie’ really?) or Lana Del Rey is playing in your overpriced...
Maybe we’re not craving reinvention. Maybe we’re just aching to feel something. To feel like this next era might be the one that sticks.
Even if the new era is really just a soft reboot of the last.
“After all, computers crash, people die, relationships fall apart... the best we can do is breathe and reboot.”
— Carrie Bradshaw