24 Subtle Reminders for the Girl Who Craves a Quieter, Slower Life
and is ready to work towards it
It’s Sunday.
I’m at the bar with a martini in my hand and an aerospace engineer who has purchased the drink of every woman near us sitting to my right. I fully anticipated the bill that would document the length of my time with my favorite bartender tonight. However, I won’t be getting that tab. And somehow that made me think about women all around the world.
How fully prepared we are to do things. Hard things. Soft things. Hurtful things. Fast things. Survival things. Unbearable things. All things.
I’m not sure what part of the woman’s anatomy God decided deserved a healthy dose of willpower and willingness, but most times I wish that part of us didn’t exist.
Naturally, we’re stronger and meant to endure more than the ones with the Y chromosome. We’re built to withstand childbirth, labor, pregnancy, and breastfeeding. And because we’re naturally geared to nurture, we do. Not just children.
While it is beautiful, I’ve noticed how much mental and emotional labor our position requires. We can’t linger too long before the next thing is on our minds or on our plates. We can’t just let it go without fixing it. We have to keep going. We can’t turn off the loud parts of our brain when things need to be done. We learn to recover… not rest. Recover just enough to return to the chaos life created for us.
Women.
So, I decided to create a simple sheet of subtle reminders for the girl who craves a quieter, slower life. Not the kind the internet promises, but the kind that regulates your nervous system. I understand that life is always in a hurry to get to the next thing or the next issue or the next viral moment or the next internet sensation, but consider this article a petition for a less demanding, less condemning realm designed and created by the small moments that you love so much but can’t seem to hold onto. The ones that remind you that you’re human. The ones that make you think… I’m just a girl.
Because you are. And my Substack is dedicated to you. The entire thing. Not one post. Not two. All of them. I want you to have more of those moments, but this time… I want you to hold onto them. Hold onto you. Linger a little. Laugh a little.
When you’re feeling the weight of the rush of the world, come here. Have a seat. Remind yourself, softly, that quietness and slowness are luxuries you don’t need permission to have. You deserve them, and as long as I’m writing, you’ll have them.
24 Subtle Reminders for the Girl Who Craves a Quieter, Slower Life.
Quiet hours begin at 7pm (soft DND).
The paperbacks on my shelves deserve an hour of my time before bed each night.
I must schedule time for my interests. Weekends feel best.
Social media deserves less of me.
Trade the big tee for pajamas this week.
Sundays are sacred: reading, television series, exfoliating, lounging, pretty pjs, herbal tea, new recipes, long strolls, limited screentime, movies, painted nails, bubble baths, reruns, journaling, Substack, planning the week, singing aloud, pin curls, learning a new language, giving plants extra attention, resting, no progressive thoughts, interests, hobbies, face masks, unhinged laughter, etc.)
Anxiousness does not own me.
Not every moment is meant for progression. My free time doesn’t translate to elevation. Sometimes, I can just… be.
My capacity to fail is much broader than my need to succeed.
My timeline is not their timeline. Things will come to me when I’m ready.
I don’t have to rush. Not today. Not tomorrow either.
I understand where I am right now. I also understand why I’m here. And I understand that I won’t be here in the next six months.
I don’t have to have everything I see. I don’t have to do everything I see. I don’t have to be everything I see.
I’m better than I was yesterday. That’s enough. It’ll always be enough.
I stopped measuring my success by others.
I deserve to do nothing sometimes.
Get the clothes out. For the entire week.
Up thirty minutes early. Every morning.
I’ll read the pages of my journal years from now and be incredibly grateful for taking the time to write them.
Scheduling time alone is paramount.
I’ll make mistakes. I’ll learn from them. I’ll move forward.
I don’t have to have it all figured out right now.
The journey is required. The scenic route, preferably.
No one in the world can love me as I can love myself. Slower moments are proof.
Cheers to a slower, quieter life.
xo, grey
If you’re into this kind of thing, you’ll love my snail mail club. Permission to pause shows up in your mailbox every month. The September Letter.
P.S. I’m on my second round by now. Everything looks right. I’ll check in the morning. Charge it to the bartender tonight.




“I understand where I am right now. I also understand why I’m here. And I understand that I won’t be here in the next six months.” 😭
Thank you for this!