An Ode to My Obsessions
Ever since I was old enough to wield a library card, I’ve had a habit of falling headlong into obsessions. You could call it passion, you could call it quirk, and if you’re my sister who shares an Amazon Prime account with me, you could call it “an expensive disaster of hobbies.” But hey, life is far too short not to lean into what sets your heart ablaze, right? So, in the spirit of full transparency—and maybe a little gentle self-roasting—let me take you on a stroll through my most eccentric fixations.
Spoiler alert: they involve Jane Austen, monogramming, and an ongoing attempt to bake my way into someone’s life.
The Jane Austen Fever Dream: Romance, Reality, and Regency
It started innocently enough with a dog-eared library copy of Pride and Prejudice. By “innocently,” I mean I spent the better part of a summer imagining myself as Elizabeth Bennet while dramatically ignoring texts from that boy who was tall but had—and I cannot stress this enough—Darcy-like energy. As a Southern woman, I’ve always felt an almost pathological need to blend charm with wit, and Austen’s heroines taught me how to sharpen those skills with the precision of a Charleston silver letter opener.
But this fixation went beyond reading. Next thing I knew, I was attending Regency-themed dances (Google it—it’s real), donning empire-waist dresses that were wildly unflattering on my 5’1” frame, and attempting to speak with a British accent that sounded suspiciously like it was borrowed from an old Harry Potter DVD.
What it taught me: Romance is wonderful, yes, but compatibility thrives when it’s matched with candor. Darcy didn’t win Elizabeth’s heart because he brooded in the corner—he won her because he eventually learned the art of honest communication (after some light shaming). Lesson learned: you don’t need to be broodingly perfect, but you do need to be real.
Monogram Mania: Or Why I Own Six Identical Hand Towels
Southerners love a monogram. And I am, unapologetically, a Southerner to my core. If it doesn’t move, I will monogram it. Towels, baseball caps, stationery—you name it. For Christmas one year, I even bought myself monogrammed luggage tags, which hilariously backfired when I realized they might as well say, “Please steal me, I’m fancy!”
So what’s the appeal? Maybe it’s the sense of ownership or the nostalgia for a time when a name meant something in velvet-draped drawing rooms. Honestly, though, I think it’s because monograms add a touch of elegance to the functional. It’s not just a napkin—it’s my napkin, thank you very much.
What it taught me: The small details matter. Whether you’re writing love notes or planning a big anniversary dinner, the thought you put into the seemingly mundane can make someone feel genuinely special. Bonus: It’s also proof positive you don’t have to spend a fortune to show someone you care. An embroidered tea towel? Gold star.
Cakes and Courtship: Baking (Poorly) as a Love Language
Here’s the thing about being a terrible baker: it’s incredibly humbling. You can't cheat it with charm or good lighting. My oatmeal chocolate chip cookies? They look like they’ve survived a natural disaster, and even my mother, who supports me in everything, gently suggested I “take up another hobby.”
And yet, I persist. Baking has become my unexpected foray into vulnerability, because nothing reveals your humanity quite like delivering someone a lopsided Bundt cake in a lopsided relationship and hoping—praying—they understand the thought behind the disaster. It’s messy, inconsistent, and occasionally inedible, but there’s sincerity baked into every attempt.
What it taught me: The way to someone’s heart isn’t through their stomach; it’s through their ability to see the effort behind your attempt. Let’s be real—you’re not always going to say the perfect thing or present yourself as effortlessly composed. But if you’re genuine, people (the right ones, at least!) will appreciate it far more than perfection.
Mood Boards, But Make Them Emotional
Are you familiar with the Pinterest black hole? Because I practically live there. My digital boards are full of sprawling Southern manors, front porches wrapped in wisteria, and dinner party tablescapes complete with gold-rimmed china and candlelight. Sounds dreamy, right? Now ask me how often I’ve hosted a dinner party. (The answer: twice, and they both involved paper plates.)
Here’s the thing: as much as I’d love to convince you I’m the kind of person who serves handmade croquembouche at my long picnic table nestled under fairy lights, the reality is much less polished. I’m more of a “last-minute pizza dinner on the couch” kind of girl. Those Pinterest-perfect fantasy worlds remind me to keep dreaming big, but also to embrace the beauty of what’s real.
What it taught me: It’s okay to daydream, but don’t compare someone’s highlight reel to your behind-the-scenes. Relationships thrive in the unglamorous details—like shared sweatpants mornings and inside jokes that no one else finds funny.
Collecting Minis: A Ridiculous But Adorable Habit
If my Regency-era obsession was a phase, my love for tiny things is a forever flame. Mini perfume bottles, dollhouse furniture, those wildly overpriced jars of artisanal jam that hold about two teaspoons of fruit—I want them all. Why? Because they’re charming and ridiculously unnecessary, which, coincidentally, is also the tagline of several people I’ve dated.
But here’s the fun part: learning to love the outrageous has made me less critical of the weird quirks in others. One date showed me his comic books sealed in special protective plastic sleeves, and another confided his lifelong quest to visit every single minor league baseball stadium in America. I didn’t cringe; I swooned, knowing full well that someone, somewhere probably thinks my collection of tiny teacups is completely insane.
What it taught me: Embrace the quirks—both yours and theirs. The world is a much more charming place when we let people fully indulge in what lights them up inside. After all, if they can love your tiny jam jar obsession, maybe you can tolerate their love of live-action role-playing (…maybe).
In Truth, It’s Just Passion with Personality
If nothing else, my obsessions have shown me that being unapologetically “too much” of something is better than being “not enough” of anything. Yes, they’re a little eccentric. Yes, they’re impractical at times (looking at you, Regency bonnet collecting dust in my closet). But they fuel my creativity, ground me in my identity, and—most importantly—they teach me how to celebrate that spark in others.
So, here’s your take-home advice: lean into whatever makes you delightfully, unapologetically you. Wear your quirks loudly. Monogram your socks. Host that wildly under-attended Austen movie marathon. Bake the world’s ugliest cake for a first date. Because the truth is, when you find the right people, those quirks you cherish so dearly will be exactly what they cherish about you, too.
And maybe one day, someone will even love my sunken oatmeal cookies as much as I love attempting them. Now wouldn’t that be a plot line worthy of Jane Austen?
