The Things I Can’t Live Without

Let me level with you: I’m not one of those “minimalist lifehack” people who can fit their essentials into a chic little backpack and stroll through life blissfully unencumbered. No, my list of life essentials is as multifaceted as a Toronto streetcar route map—inefficient at times, but undeniably full of character. What follows isn’t just a collection of objects I can’t live without—it’s a window into my relationships with the world, others, and myself.

1. My Coffee Mug Collection: Or, How I Measure My Mornings

Let’s get one thing straight: these aren’t just mugs; they’re vessels of emotional stability.

My favorite is chipped at the handle, with a faded logo from a Vancouver café where I accidentally ordered kombucha instead of coffee and learned what the phrase “it’s an acquired taste” really means. Another sports a minimalist design from a London shop that screamed “too expensive,” but I snagged it because every sip takes me back to the morning fog of South Bank.

The mugs aren’t just about caffeine—they’re a slow ritual in a fast world. They remind me that relationships, whether with a new partner or your morning espresso, deserve to be savored. Pro tip: If your partner brings you coffee in your favorite mug without asking which one it is, that’s love. Or witchcraft. Either way, marry them.

2. My Reusable Water Bottle: The Unsung Hero of Adulting

Urban survival 101: Stay hydrated at all times. My water bottle is basically my sidekick. We’ve gone from Toronto’s subway commute to hiking on Grouse Mountain together. It’s lightweight, endlessly refillable, and—here’s the kicker—it comes with just enough emotional baggage to ground me.

Why? Because I always lose the cheap ones but have somehow managed to hold onto this bottle for YEARS. It’s bright red, dented from one dramatic tumble down the stairs of a hostel in Dublin (don’t ask), and has stuck with me like a dependable but slightly neurotic friend.

The real lesson here? Whether in dating or in hydration, invest in quality. If it survives your quirks, it’s worth keeping.

3. My “Backup Book” (No Kindle Necessary)

Admittedly, my English Lit degree may have biased me toward print books, but hear me out: carrying a backup book is the ultimate insurance policy. Long line at the coffee shop? Read. First date who’s 20 minutes late? (Red flag, but hey, it happens.) Read.

My current go-to is anything by Michael Ondaatje. His prose takes me out of the chaos of Toronto’s street corners and transports me somewhere quieter, where words matter as much as glances during a date. Books are also phenomenal conversation starters. Pro tip: When someone notices you reading and strikes up an insightful conversation about the title, they’ve immediately earned themselves a longer coffee date.

4. Noise-Cancelling Headphones: For When The World is a Bit Too Much

I bought these during one of my brief stints in London and could never go back to a life of overhearing strangers’ opinions about Brexit or, let’s face it, wheatgrass smoothies.

Now, they’re a daily fixture—blocking out bustling Toronto streetcars or just helping me mentally reset with a Tragically Hip classic. Music is an emotional compass, after all. The headphones help me choose the right vibe, whether it’s indie pop for a crush who’s got my brain buzzing or low-fi beats for sorting out post-breakup thoughts.

Life gets loud, both internally and externally. Sometimes you just need to hit “play” on a song that makes everything else melt away.

5. My Journal: The Low-Tech Relationship Therapist

There are moments when even Spotify can’t untangle what you’re feeling. That’s when my journal steps in. A dog-eared Moleskine filled with illegible scrawls and cryptic sentences only I could decipher (“Why tea leaves? Why now??”), it’s been my confidant for years.

It’s where I vent, process, and map out moments of connection—good ones, bad ones, and the “we both said ‘we should do this again’ but we absolutely shouldn’t” ones. It’s not a practice of obsessing; it’s about reflection. It turns fleeting frustrations into fodder for growth.

Pro tip: If you’re feeling stuck in a situationship or can’t figure out why the last argument keeps replaying in your head, journaling is like hitting Ctrl+Z on an emotional mess.

6. A Well-Worn Pair of Sneakers: My Grounding Force

These sneakers have done it all: walked through Chinatown for late-night dumplings, tread through Riverdale Park on a contemplative evening, and hurried to catch last-minute coffee dates that turned into surprisingly great afternoons. They’re my call to action, my sturdy foundation when things are in flux.

They also remind me that I don’t need to be perfect. Scuffs and imperfections tell your story, whether they’re on sneakers or your own heart. After all, isn’t that what makes relationships interesting anyway?

7. My “Emergency” Bar of Quality Dark Chocolate

There’s no problem a good piece of chocolate can’t at least temporarily solve. Bad date? Chocolate. Great date? Chocolate. Ghosted? Chocolate (and then texting your best friend because some things require more than cacao).

I’ve been devoted to dark chocolate ever since a trip to Montreal, where I stumbled into the most unassuming artisanal chocolate shop that instantly made me question my allegiance to mass-market candy bars. It’s not about snobbery—it’s about slowing down and appreciating something worth indulging in. Relationships are a lot like that. The best ones feel intentional and rich, and you don’t mind savoring every bit.

Pro tip: Keep emergency chocolate at the ready. It’s just as valid on Day 3 of a gut-wrenching breakup as it is for celebrating a text that says, “I had a great time last night.”

8. A Reliable Playlist (and the Right Speakers)

Maybe it’s because Toronto is a city that thrives on mood (one second it’s a sunny 25°C day, the next, you’re in a monsoon), but music is essential to setting—or repairing—the vibe. And trust me, your playlist makes or breaks the moment.

One of my all-time best dates? A winter evening in Vancouver, making spaghetti while The National played softly in the background. Music did what words couldn’t—it filled the silence without ever stealing the spotlight.

My advice? Curate one playlist for joy, one for heartbreak, and one for those “what exactly are we?” evenings. And splurge on decent speakers—crackly audio kills romance faster than a poorly chosen pun on a dating profile.

9. My Late-Night Walks Around the Neighborhood

Here’s the thing: Riverdale has spoiled me with winding streets, unexpected greenery, and that irresistible “big city, small pocket” vibe. But what really makes these walks a life essential is their ability to ground me when everything else feels untethered.

Late-night walks are where I sort through feelings that don’t neatly resolve. They’re where frustrations with dating apps or a budding crush crystallize into perspectives I can take with me. Alone time isn’t self-indulgent; it’s essential. Take that walk. Let your brain wander. Who knows—you might accidentally solve the mystery of why that one date didn’t text back.

The Final Takeaway: Carry Your Essentials, Not More Than You Need

These items might just seem like stuff, but they’re symbols of what keeps me sane, curious, and connected. Essentials don’t have to be flashy or expensive—they just need to be yours. Life (and love) gets a whole lot easier when you curate what keeps you grounded and joyful.

And if someone compliments your well-worn sneakers, offers you chocolate, or gets the musical vibe just right? Well, you know exactly what to hold onto.