Words: Eilidh McDade (she/her)
For me, 2024 ended with abruptly packing my bags and moving out of my apartment. Having only moved in three months prior, I wasn’t expecting to finish the year back in my old childhood bedroom. I’ve spent a lot of time since then reeling from the events which led to this, writing a lot of gut-wrenching journal entries in an attempt to claw myself through winter. When something unexpected like this happens, it can be hard to make sense of where to go next. It’s left me considering the word situation. This intangible thing that is born from the actions of people. This unique set of circumstances that can often feel so inexplicable when relaying it to another person. When something – or someone – leaves your life, an abrupt setback occurs which can open up a space for re-evaluation. What is it that I really want for my life? Who and what brings me joy? What good can I take from this re-direction?
Adjusting to change is one of the great growing pains of becoming an adult. There is such a temptation in these kinds of situations to shake your fists and scream, ‘This isn’t the way things are supposed to be!’ It is so easy to get stuck grieving for a life which you so badly wanted, but has now fallen out of reach. A great comfort during this period of change within my life has been the HBO series Girls. If you are a woman in your 20s, there is no greater show one could recommend. Set in New York, Girls follows the lives of four young women and depicts the realities of navigating life as a young adult, covering topics from substance abuse to sex, career struggles to mental health issues. Filled with hilariously outdated millennial fashion and dark humour, the characters are incredibly flawed: often narcissistic, shallow, and manipulative. At times, they can be so aggressively unlikeable that it makes you want to turn your television off altogether. Yet, the main lesson I have taken from Girls is to live lightly. The main character, Hannah Horvath, has an approach to life that is as dysfunctional as it is admirable. A prominent moment in the show is in season 1 episode 3 when Hannah learns that she has contracted HPV. Her friend Jessa attempts to comfort her, asserting that ‘all adventurous women’ have contracted the infection at least once. The episode ends with Hannah dancing in front of her laptop, as she tweets the phrase ‘All adventurous women do.’ While the show neglects any real discussion of safe sex, this scene provides a moment of euphoria – free of the stigma and shame culture so often built around sexually transmitted infections. Girls has the ability to make light of almost anything, and is unparalleled in its raw depiction of life as a young woman.
Another discovery I have been taking solace in lately is the phrase ‘March is for opening windows’. Reflective of spring cleaning, this saying signals the rebirth so commonly associated with the beginning of the year. Flowers blooming, animals reawakening, birds beginning to build their nests – Spring is a season defined by its coming back to life. Getting out of bed. Shaking off the dust. Online, it has taken flight as a metaphor for personal regeneration. Beginning new creative endeavours. Inviting in something new. This phrase has single-handedly propelled me back into my life. In a period of personal devastation, I have found myself endlessly creating. Pouring myself into creative projects, learning new techniques of making. I want to carry this phrase throughout the year with me: This life is for opening windows. Like Girls, this phrase embraces change, even when it arrives uninvited. It urges you to accept endings for what they are, and to trust that growth often comes from opening doors. Moving on isn’t about finding perfect closure—it’s about moving forward regardless.
This, perhaps, is why I find such comfort in Girls. There is something deeply reassuring in its refusal to wrap things up kindly. The characters don’t remain best friends, relationships break down, and their lives diverge in unexpected ways. Girls does not give in to the illusion of a picture-perfect ending. This show has played a great role in my grieving process, allowing me to understand that life, in its nature, is transient. The ability to make light of these difficult moments is key to moving through the world after. After the breakup, after the failure, after the rejection, after the fallout. After months of hibernation, I’ve realised that this life is for opening windows. Letting light in. Making room for something new. Picking yourself up and carrying on anyways. After all, all adventurous women do.
