“What’s one thing you can’t live without?” If you’ve spent any time filling out icebreakers at parties, dating bios, or even those quirky online quizzes from the early 2000s, you’ve likely faced this existential twenty-questions moment. It’s deceptively tricky. I mean, sure, we all need air, water, and a reliable Wi-Fi signal, but what are the real essentials? The tiny joys, the everyday comforts, the personal talismans that turn the ordinary into the extraordinary? So, in the spirit of baring the soul and maybe inspiring you to rethink your own list, here are my non-negotiables—pieces of my life that I carry close, woven into who I am.

My Dad's Old Gibson Guitar

For me, music is less of a hobby and more like the heartbeat of my life. Growing up in East Nashville, surrounded by riffs and harmonies, music wasn’t something we went out of our way to do—it was just there, like Tennessee humidity or the smell of BBQ wafting through an open window. My dad’s Gibson, scuffed and scratched from years of late-night jam sessions, sits in the corner of my apartment like an old friend.

Now, I want to be clear: it’s not that I’m secretly a virtuoso. I play a little, pluck a few chords to clear my head, but realistically, that guitar is more spirit guide than performance tool. Seeing it reminds me to keep my roots close. Even in moments of doubt or heartbreak—the kind where you replay detailed mental footage of your ex walking out, down to the sound of the door clicking shut—it feels good to hold onto something that reminds me of home.

Actual practical tip: If you don’t have a family hand-me-down like this, carve out something creative that makes you feel grounded. A camera, a set of paintbrushes, or an old pair of dancing shoes can do wonders when you feel unmoored.

A Playlist for Every Mood

East Nashville taught me the art of storytelling. It also taught me the power of a perfectly crafted playlist. On nights when I was too in my own head after a tough breakup, I stopped analyzing texts (because “why did he like my Instagram post but leave my message on read?” is a plotline we know doesn’t end well). Instead, I’d pop in my headphones and walk through the streets, letting Dolly sing me back to myself.

Let me tell you: there’s nothing like hearing “Jolene” on full blast when you’re in your feelings about someone who wasn’t worth the hassle in the first place. I’ve got playlists for every moment—road trip singalongs, rainy days for sulking, even one just titled “Dust Yourself Off, Girl” for those mornings when confidence needs a little coaxing. And let’s be real: if you can’t cry in your car to a perfectly timed Lana Del Rey song, are you even processing emotions properly?

Practical takeaway? Spend time curating your playlists. They might not fix your love life, but they’ll help soundtrack your healing.

Worn-In Cowboy Boots

Listen, there’s a certain rhythm to walking down Broadway in a pair of boots that have seen everything from concert stages to mud-splattered festivals. It’s like the soles themselves carry a kind of memory, each scuff telling its own tale. My favorite pair isn’t fancy—just old leather, cracked around the toes—but they’ve been everywhere. In dating terms, these boots have seen it all: awkward blind dates, moonlit swings by the Cumberland River, and even a few post-heartbreak solo karaoke sessions.

Here’s what I’ve realized over the years: it’s not about what you wear to impress someone else, but what you wear to feel fully you. For me, it’s those boots. Maybe for you, it’s that threadbare hoodie you’ve secretly held onto, or sneakers so beat up you’re surprised they still hold together. Don’t overthink it. Wear what feels like you. This is less about fashion and more about finding a little piece of confidence you can slip on when needed.

My Fully Stocked Tea Cabinet

No, it’s not as cool as a whiskey collection, but let me tell you something: nothing beats a cup of hot tea and a little peace at 9 p.m. on a Tuesday. There’s a lineup—peppermint for late-night brainstorming, Earl Grey for mornings, chamomile when I’m drifting through a “why hasn’t he texted back?” haze. The funny thing is, growing up in the South, you’d expect me to be a die-hard sweet tea girl. But honestly? The routine of boiling water, steeping, and sitting down with a warm cup feels like a mini-apology to myself on the days I’m not quite landing all the right notes.

And isn’t that part of adulting? Finding rituals that become little pockets of joy.

Pro tip: stock up on things that add comfort to your life—even small indulgences. Maybe tea’s not your thing, but fancy coffee beans, sheet masks, or candles that smell like a Pinterest cabin in the woods aren’t bad options either.

Notebooks I’ll Never Actually Finish

I have an embarrassing number of half-filled notebooks stashed on shelves and tucked into drawers. But here’s the thing: they’re little time capsules, snapshots of where I was in the moment. Like the journal I toted during my semester abroad in London that holds things like, “Tried to flirt with the cute barista—he called me ‘lass’ and I panicked and ordered tea I didn’t want.” Or the notebook I carried through a post-breakup stretch, pages filled with angsty lyrics I would never dare sing out loud.

Do I finish any of them? Rarely. But it feels good to have a place to dump feelings and scribble dreams without judgment, like unloading my emotional junk drawer onto paper. Writing something down makes it feel tangible, even if you never go back and read it. (Let’s be real, the typos alone are another level of seasoning no one asked for.)

If you’re not a “writer,” don’t sweat it—your version of this might look different. Open a drawing app on your phone, voice-record your musings, or just make chaotic Pinterest vision boards for your life’s big questions. What matters is letting the noise out.

My Mom’s Advice (Even When I’m Rolling My Eyes)

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear my mom’s voice every time I stumble head-first into a new dating disaster. “Savannah,” she says, “the key to life is learning how to laugh and listen.” She’ll say this while wiping flour from her apron, mid-cookie batch, like she’s just casually dropping the meaning of life during dessert prep. At the time, I’d roll my eyes and scoff. Laugh and listen? That’s great, Mom, but what’s the strategy for ghosting or decoding an “I’m not ready for anything serious” text? (Spoiler alert: there isn’t one. He’s just not ready for you.)

But now, as I’m older and a bit (slightly) wiser, I get it. Life—and love—doesn’t come down to having all the answers or flipping through some cosmic instruction manual. It’s about staying curious, staying kind, and yes, laughing enough to not take it all too seriously.

So, there you have it—my list of can’t-live-without essentials. They’re not flashy. They’re not groundbreaking. But they’re mine, stitched together from days of country music, nights of self-reflection, and maybe too many cups of chamomile tea. I hope it inspires you to make your own list—and more importantly, to hold tight to whatever pieces of your life make you feel whole.

Trust me, you don’t need anyone’s permission to love what you love unapologetically. Consider this yours anyway. Keep finding the rhythm of your own song.