Autumn is here—and the trees are all getting bare. I guess I have to get used to the dark mornings again. Coupled with the ongoing craziness in the world, it’s set to be another winter of discontent.Or is it?
Look, I’m Gen X—we invented ironic detachment as a survival mechanism—but even I have to admit this year has kicked my ass. My personal annus horribilis, if we’re being fancy about it. The kind of year where autumn feels less like a cute metaphor and more like an actual mood: everything falling apart in vibrant, crunchy, photogenic decay.
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As October draws to a close and we enter the last two months of the year, I seem to be feeling less stressed than I have been for most of 2025.
For once, I’m actually looking forward to spending cosy evenings indoors, all hygge with my husband, plus our winter walks and talks. Who knew?
Here’s what I’m clinging to as we slide toward winter: seasons don’t stop. They’re the original rollercoaster, and unlike the disasters of this year, they’re at least reliable.
Winter will be cold and dark and probably involve too much self-reflection over copious amounts of coffee and G&Ts—but, and this is the part I’m tattooing on my brain—spring always comes back.
It has to. It’s contractually obligated.
So yes, I’m in my midlife autumn, nursing my wounds and watching things fall away. But I’m also that stubborn weed that refuses to believe this is how the story ends.
Winter can do its worst. I’ve got my layers, my hygge game strong, and the unshakeable Gen X conviction that after you’ve hit bottom, the only direction left—as YAZZZZ sang—“is up.”
Spring is coming, and when it does, I’m going to be insufferably smug about having survived.
The Myth of Balance (and Why It’s Overrated)
Let’s talk about that sacred cow of modern life: work–life balance.
It’s outdated. Over-marketed. A big, shiny lie.
Balance implies calm, symmetry, and control—three things absolutely no one has in 2025. We’re not balancing; we’re juggling flaming swords on a unicycle while trying to look emotionally regulated.
We’re stirring pasta with one hand, answering Slack messages with the other, and calling it “mindfulness.” We’re doom-scrolling at bedtime and calling it “staying informed.” We’re running on fumes and calling it “discipline.”
Balance, as we’ve been sold it, is a fantasy. A productivity-porn fever dream that whispers:
If you just optimise better, plan better, wake at 5am, batch-cook on Sundays, colour-code your Google calendar, meditate for exactly 12 minutes—you’ll finally find harmony. BULL S**T , FA FA FA FOULLLL!
Life isn’t a spreadsheet, and you are not a project that needs better management.
The Stoics knew this long before hustle culture and LinkedIn thought leaders.They didn’t chase balance—they sought equanimity. Yes - I am in it - my oracle phase- but indulge me for a minute.
That quiet steadiness that comes not from controlling everything (impossible), but from mastering your response to it (deeply possible).
The goal isn’t to make your life symmetrical—it’s to make it sincere.To build a life that feels like one cohesive story instead of a series of competing chapters where Work You, Home You, and Social Media You are all beefing with each other.
Shout out to Ryan Holiday—his books Stillness is the Key and Courage is Calling, along with his Daily Stoic newsletters, have been a serious source of enlightenment.
When your work aligns with your values, when your boundaries actually support your wellbeing, when you stop treating peace like a weekend activity or a vacation you have to earn—you stop juggling and start living.
Balance is the illusion of control.Integration is the practice of acceptance.And acceptance, my loves, is where real peace begins.
It’s not about having it all.It’s about knowing what “all” even means for you.
So instead of asking, “How do I balance it all?” try asking: What deserves my energy today?
Not what screams the loudest.Not what guilt tells you.Not what the algorithm says you should be doing.What actually deserves you?
That question changes everythingggggg
The Prince of Misalignment
If you ever forget what misalignment looks like—don’t worry. The universe provides examples daily.
Twelve million pounds and a dead accuser later, and any decent person in the UK is still asking: Will Andrew Mountbatten Windsor aka Andy Windsor ever face real accountability?
Let’s be clear about what we’re looking at here: a man whose excuses—“no recollection,” “I was at Pizza Express in Woking,” “I don’t sweat”—sound like rejected scripts from The Office.
SIDEBAR: Shout out to Emily Maitlis, because I genuinely don’t know how she conducted that interview with a straight face. The woman deserves a BAFTA for maintaining composure while someone tried to alibi himself with a chain restaurant.
The real insult has been the tax-paying British public footing the bill for his protection and his silence. His security detail. His legal settlements. His carefully managed public invisibility. Now thanks to Kingyyy - this will be no more.
All while ordinary people are choosing between heating and eating, between electricity and therapy, between dignity and survival.
It’s misalignment on a royal scale: privilege pretending to be innocent.Reputation propped up by taxpayer pounds. Accountability buried under ermine and entitlement.
Meanwhile, the rest of us are out here facing consequences for our actions—losing jobs for being late, getting fined for missed payments, having our reputations destroyed for far less.
This comes as no surprise really—in my opinion, power of any sort corrupts, and crowns corrode faster than most.
I’m a closeted royalist—anyone who knows me knows I loved and respected the late Queen. I’ve got some time for King Charles, none for William, but ALL DAY for Harry.
However, at the end of the day, royals are human beings—not special, not chosen by divine right, not exempt from basic decency. Nope. They’re arse-wiping, snot-cleaning, regular Joe Bloggs like you and me.
Let that sink in.
The only difference? When we mess up, we face consequences. When they mess up, we pay for the cover-up.Meanwhile, HMRC will still be looking for people to pay back their Covid loans. smh.
The Antidote: Grace Wales Bonner at Hermès
And then—grace. Literally.
Grace Wales Bonner, the newly appointed Creative Director of Hermès’s women’s universe.
Let me say that again, slower, so we can all feel the weight of it:A Black British woman is now leading one of the most revered, quietly powerful luxury houses on earth.
Hermès isn’t just a brand—it’s a 187-year-old French institution that’s historically moved with the speed of hand-stitched leather. This is a house that has built its entire identity on heritage, craft, and an almost monastic devotion to tradition.
Into that rarefied space walks Grace Wales Bonner. Not as a token. Not as a headline. But as the woman who earned her seat at the table through decades of uncompromising, visionary work.
This isn’t a diversity headline—though the media will try to frame it that way.This is a cultural correction.
The result of consistent, soul-rooted work finally being recognised by an industry that has historically gate kept Black excellence while appropriating Black culture.
For generations, Black designers have been the uncredited architects of cool—setting trends that white designers got awards for. The fashion industry has long had a parasitic relationship with Blackness: it wants our aesthetics, our cultural references, our cool—but rarely our leadership.
Grace Wales Bonner has been building toward this moment her entire career—one stitch, one reference, one deeply researched collection at a time.
She fused European tailoring with Afro-Atlantic spirituality, rewrote the language of modern luxury, and pulled from James Baldwin, Harlem Renaissance photography, Caribbean diaspora, and West African textiles—not as costume, but as conversation.
She didn’t chase virality. She didn’t pander to the algorithm. She built a legacy—with intention, intellect, and integrity.
That’s what alignment looks like. That’s purpose rewarded.
The world is finally starting to understand that Black creativity isn’t a trend to mine—it’s a tradition to honour.
Grace Wales Bonner at Hermès is proof that excellence, when rooted in authenticity, becomes undeniable.Even to institutions built on gatekeeping.
Autumn teaches us what to shed.Winter teaches us what to survive.Spring reminds us why it was all worth it.
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Hit me up in the comments,
Love,
Ari x
MIDLIFE MUSINGS AND MAYHEM is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.
