I don’t live a wild life.
I mean, I could, I suppose. But I’m more of a “latte and low-stakes gossip” kind of person than a festival girl. Even when I tried to be, I never really was. Dancing in public? Love the idea, hate the execution.
A few weeks ago, a 61-year-old man approached me in the supermarket. He told me, with great enthusiasm, that he still goes to music festivals. When I admitted I didn’t really feel the need, he gave me a look. Not mean, just puzzled. Like I had confessed I didn’t like cake or didn’t own a phone.
For a moment, I felt the panic creep in.
Am I… boring?
But I said it anyway: that I’d rather go out for dinner, explore a new café, read a good book, or have slow conversations with close friends. And honestly, I was proud of myself. It was one of those times where I didn’t adjust my story to sound more exciting, or more “normal.” I just told the truth. And the truth is, I like my life. Even if it’s quiet. Even if no one ever shouts “plot twist!”
Because, to be fair, there’s been quite a few already.
A long relationship that never made me happy. The early death of a parent. Estranged family members and the kind of drama you can’t even explain without diagrams. Career changes, heartbreaks, identity shifts, and moments where I wondered if I’d ever meet someone who didn’t get scared off by how much I feel, or think, or hope.
And still, my life feels like it’s… humming. Not speeding, not crashing, not flying. Just humming. A quiet rhythm. Latte in one hand, leftover pastry in the other.
Sometimes I wonder if I’ve just grown used to turbulence. Maybe that’s why calm feels suspicious.
Or maybe I’m just in the middle part of the movie.
The part where everything seems too normal before it all flips.
Maybe I’ll fall in love with someone unexpected. Maybe I’ll move to a different country or win the lottery. Maybe something will happen that changes everything, or nothing will happen and I’ll slowly realise that was the twist all along.
Until then, I’m here.
Living a life that’s soft in volume but rich in plotlines.
You just have to be paying attention.
And if a surprise is coming, I hope it brings snacks.
– Sophie Quinn








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