Sometimes, it’s the smallest things that anchor us in life—the essentials that feel like old friends, familiar and irreplaceable. While I could wax poetic about the way the sea breeze lifts my hair when I’m walking the Kennebunkport shore or how a cup of perfectly steeped Earl Grey feels like a meditation, today I’m sharing a list far more practical. These are the things that keep me grounded, joyful, and (no exaggeration) sane, especially when life—and love—gets complicated. They’ve taught me more about connection, comfort, and self-discovery than I ever imagined.
Let’s dive in.
My Grandmother’s Wool Blanket: A Love Language in Textile
Picture this: Maine in late October, the Atlantic frothy and wild, and your apartment’s heating system struggling like it’s got stage fright. Enter my grandmother’s wool blanket. Heavy, scratchy in a way that somehow feels right, and infused with generations of New England practicality, this blanket has seen me through writer’s block, Netflix binges, and a breakup or five.
It’s more than just warmth—it’s roots. Wrapping myself in it reminds me of summers spent listening to maritime ghost stories by candlelight, the scent of salt lingering in the air. Love may come and go, but this blanket? It stays.
Why it matters: Comfort is the first step toward resilience. Find your equivalent—a hoodie, a scarf, a stuffed animal from college—and let it remind you that self-care often starts with familiarity.
Spiral-Bound Notebooks: My Therapy, No Co-Pay Required
If you’ve ever dated someone who says, “I’m just not good at verbalizing my feelings,” let me tell you: neither am I, at least not in real time. That’s where my dog-eared stack of spiral-bound notebooks comes in.
Jotted down between half-hearted grocery lists and bad stabs at poetry are my deepest thoughts: frustration over unanswered texts, existential debates about flirting etiquette, and about fifty different ways I overanalyze dinner-date small talk. Writing things out helps me sift through a sea of emotions and find the shore.
Why it matters: Whether journaling or doodling, there’s something grounding about putting pen to paper. Reliving a dating faux pas is infinitely easier when you can let the page (rather than your best friend) absorb your rants.
My Collection of Red Lipsticks: It’s Never “Just Makeup”
True story: During my year in England, while grappling with homesickness and imposter syndrome, I walked into a tiny drugstore in Bath and bought a crimson lipstick on a whim. That one tube changed my life.
Red lipstick became my shield—bold, unfussy, unapologetic. I wore it to literary panels where I was consumed by doubt. I wore it to blind dates in London pubs where the lighting did everyone favors. Even now, back in Kennebunkport, a swipe of red is my way of saying, “Whatever’s coming my way, I’ve got this.”
Why it matters: We all need tangible reminders of our power. Maybe it’s a denim jacket, a lucky earring, or the perfume that makes you walk just a little taller. Hold on to it and let it be your talisman.
A Spotify Playlist Called “Flirtation Orchestra”: The Soundtrack to Every Stage of Dating
Before you laugh, hear me out: music makes flirty banter so much easier. Whether it’s Ella Fitzgerald crooning out her sass or HAIM reminding me that “now I’m in it” is a universal feeling, my playlist balances the rosy glow of a new connection and the bittersweet ache of what-if.
The genius of “Flirtation Orchestra” (if I do say so myself) is that it adapts. I’ve used it to set the mood for slow dancing in the kitchen and to softly accompany those rare “we need to talk” conversations. Ask anyone from the jazz era to, well, Taylor Swift: music is how we make sense of romance and heartache alike.
Why it matters: Never underestimate the emotional heft of good tunes. Craft a playlist for every mood—flirty, heartbroken, hopeful—and listen your way through life’s twists and turns.
A Bottle of Lavender Oil: Date Prep (and Post-Date Repair)
My love affair with lavender oil began at Bowdoin College during finals week, when stress seemed to emanate from my pores and dating was laughably last on my mind. These days, it’s become my multi-tasking MVP.
On a date night, it doubles as perfume: subtle, warm, with just a whisper of “I-know-how-to-make-herbal-tea” energy. After a romantic misfire, a few drops in a hot bath dissolve disappointment faster than I can say, “I can’t believe I didn’t notice the red flags.” And before bed? A dab on my pillow ensures sweet, soothing dreams—even if my date didn’t make the cut.
Why it matters: Sensory self-care can be your best friend. Whatever calms you after a meltdown—or gets you ready for another round of putting yourself out there—is worth its weight in gold.
A Lobster Roll with Extra Butter: The Universe’s Way of Telling Me Everything’s Fine
Look, not everything on this list has to be deep. Sometimes comfort comes in a warm brioche bun stuffed with Maine lobster and dripping with melted butter. There’s something about this sloppy, decadent sandwich that works better than any breakup playlist or pep talk.
It’s nostalgia on a plate too—it takes me back to evenings by the harbor, the sun sinking low as sea gulls made off with stray fries. It’s where I’ve celebrated triumphs and mourned disappointments while marveling at how restorative good food can be. Plus, buttery fingers make scrolling Instagram impossible, which is sometimes exactly the kind of break we all need.
Why it matters: Food and memory are intertwined. Find your lobster roll—or your tacos, your late-night waffles—and let it remind you that joy is often simple, familiar, and just messy enough to make you laugh.
Conclusion: Keep What Grounds You
There you have it—my essentials, my fail-safes, my everyday reminders that life and love, messy as they may be, are also beautifully navigable. Whether it’s an old blanket or a bold lipstick, the things we cling to say as much about us as our relationships do.
Because the truth is, no matter who you’re dating, or if you’re dating at all, the real MVP of your life will always be…well, you. So, surround yourself with what feels right—with comforts rich in history, joy, and maybe a little butter. You deserve it.
