Esperanto Magazine – 11 Hope Edition | MONSU Caulfield

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Juliette Capomolla

Kiera Eardley

Callum Johnson

Daisy Henry Dina Ivkovich

Esperanto Student Magazine

MONSU Caulfield Inc. Level 2, Building S, 2 Princes Avenue, Caulfield East, VIC 3145

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Esperanto Magazine is published by MONSU Caulfield Inc. Views expressed within do not necessarily reflect those of MONSU Caulfield Inc, the editorial panel, the publisher, or any other person associated with Esperanto.

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Happy Times at the IKOB New Game Plus Edition Arial

Alice Wright, Andie Perez, Angel Tully, Bryan Hoadley, Caitlin Cefai Clara Yew, Daisy Henry, Eden Hopgood, Felice Lok, Gabriela Fannia Ilanda Tran, Jackie Zhou, Juliette Capomolla, Laeticia Keiko, Lauren Gallina, Lochie McKay, Madeleine Galea, Ruby Ellam, Sarah Arturi, Soraya Rezal, Tess Kent, Zayan Ismail

Adrienne Aw, Callum Johnson, Carla J. Romana, Emilia Bajer, Gabrielle Poh, Hayley Maree, Ilanda Tran, John Paul Macatol, Lauren Easter, Lauren Gallina, Madeleine Galea, Madison Marshall, Mon Ouk, My Tieu Ly, Naiyanat Sornratanachai, Qianjia (Fiona) Lin, Uyen Dien

Lauren Easter, @lauren.easter.art

A Case for Spontaneity

Ilanda Tran, John Paul Macatol

The Start of Something New

Clara Yew, Lauren Easter

MUST BE LIKED!

Juliette Capomolla, Ilanda Tran

Top 5 Recommendations to Bring You Hope

Daisy Henry, Gabrielle Poh

Glass Half Full Lochie McKay, My Tieu Ly

Financial Security: From the Perspective of a Student

Tess Kent, Carla J. Romana

The Happiest Day

Bryan Hoadley, Adrienne Aw

She Is the Navy Blue

Caitlin Cefai, Madison Marshall

Letters of Hope: For My Own Sake…

Eden Hopgood, Lauren Gallina

the Family

Jackie Zhou, Mon Ouk

Madeleine Galea

Herein Lies Hope

Gritting Your Teeth

Adulting

Glass Half Empty

Starting Afresh

Kid's

editors’ note

Over the last two and a half years, we’ve done a lot of reminiscing. Stuck at home in our bubbles for months on end, our futures a mere pinprick of light at the end of the pandemic tunnel, there wasn’t a lot to look forward to. So instead, we looked back.

We reminisced about the grand European holidays of yesteryear, mourned old flames as loneliness gnawed at our subconscious, and re-binged shows for the seventieth time in chase of a nostalgiafuelled serotonin boost. There was a lot of comfort to be found in the past, and there was beauty in that familiarity.

But 2022 is a new beast and so far, just like we’d hoped, she’s a fun one. We’re still hoping for a lot, though.

So, without further ado: welcome to the Hope Edition of Esperanto

In it, we’re celebrating everything COVID took from us: spontaneity, frivolity, excitement, love, opportunity, positivity and time. Hope is all about dreams for the future and creating space for forward-thinking and extrospection. It lives in everyone who’s finally planning that huge road trip, letting themselves believe in the possibility of romance once more, and setting career goals at dizzying heights. Hope is wholeheartedly believing the best will happen. It’s turning our focus outwards and embracing the joy of today and tomorrow. Yesterday has had its moment.

As we read this edition, let’s cross our fingers collectively maybe even hold hands, now that we’re allowed and revel in the art, optimism and glory of one of life’s greatest gifts: hope.

As always (and for the last time!), love from,

Combine this perfectionism with a good dose of self-consciousness and you get a girl trying very hard to relax and being generally unsuccessful.

A Case for Spontaneity

WORDS Ilanda Tran @ilanda.t

ILLUSTRATION John Paul Macatol @monotone_ink

December 2019. I’ve made plans with my friend, Tom, for a very late celebration of my 18th birthday. 18 doesn’t feel all that different from 17 I am pleased with the prospect of being able to drink but a little disappointed that I will no longer be able to scream the lyrics to ‘Dancing Queen’ with as much personal conviction.

Perhaps I’ve always been too preoccupied with the smaller details in life to a point that creeps slightly beyond ‘organised’ and into the realm of ‘obsessed’. Despite a firm disbelief in astrology, I find it amusing how perfectly I fit into the Virgo stereotype I’m only half joking every time I say that “if I lose my diary, my life will basically fall apart”. Combine this perfectionism with a good dose of self-consciousness and you get a girl trying very hard to relax and being generally unsuccessful.

We meet at the shopping centre near my house and are pleasantly surprised by the presence of a sizeable pop-up carnival set-up in the square outside. All my dreams of winning an enormous plush animal to add to my collection spring to mind immediately. At Tom’s encouragement, we play what is certain to be a slightly rigged basketball game with my heart set on the giant sloth and panda plushies stacked at the back of the tent.

Tom is the opposite of this delightful cocktail of anxieties with two around-the-world trips under his belt and the confidence to go backpacking wherever he pleases on a whim, we frankly couldn’t be any more dissimilar when it comes to our thoughts on spontaneity.

We’ve definitely spent enough money playing this game to buy the plush three times over in a regular store.

“If you get just two out of the five on your next go,” says the game attendant, “you can have one of the big ones.”

Tom looks at me, conspiring. I avoid the expectant gaze of the attendant and whisper in his ear, “we don’t have to; we already spent so much ” He interrupts me, unashamedly loud. “We’re getting the panda.”

Somehow, walking around later clutching the enormous panda to my chest provides nothing more than joy despite the double takes of passersby. If my friends start doing something even barely edging towards inadvisable, I have to fight down the urge to pull them back into my little comfort zone. ‘Control freak’ is a term I sometimes grudgingly use for myself, but ‘killjoy’ feels sour on my tongue. These mum-friend tendencies don’t really help the situation at all, with my internal monologue sounding something akin to “we have that at home!” every time I think about going on an unexpected adventure or splashing out on some fun trinket or experience. Whenever my heart gets achy for something fresh, I feel that inevitable draw back to the safety of my desk chair and computer screen. No surprises here, no sir!

We catch sight of a dodgem cars arena; Tom buys us tickets before I can protest (“We just spent like forty bucks on a panda!”). My panda fits into the passenger’s seat, barely squeezing into place. The attendant raises an eyebrow;

I reach around my panda to click his seatbelt in. The moment of embarrassment when my hat flies off after a particularly spectacular collision is fleeting.

It’s caused issues before, my excessive caution weighing out the adventurousness of my friends.

This strain I was placing on my relationships and frankly, myself made me rethink my stance on doing things ‘perfectly’. The fact that I could never do anything perfectly enough was causing me strife too often for it to be logical for me to hang onto the desire.

Tom turns to me as we walk, shaking off adrenaline, and offers to treat me to sorbet.

“I know a great place,” he says. “But it’s in Williamstown. Is that okay?”

Three train lines and nearly an hour of travel for sorbet? There’s a moment where I scoff at the thought.

I juggle the weight of the panda in my arms. My hat is slightly crooked on my head.

“If we go now, we might make the next train,” I say.

If I’m being honest, I haven’t changed all that much still over-reliant on a perfectly set-out diary, still a bit too conscious of the lingering gaze of strangers. However, a few years of being cooped up out of necessity rather than choice has definitely given me an appreciation for a little less thinking and a bit more doing.

Carrying the panda on the train gets me even more odd looks but I rest my chin on its shoulder as we chat the ride away, running into a friend of Tom’s during the journey and recounting our successful day. When we arrive, Williamstown is quiet. The sorbet is worth the long trip we get two flavours each and dig into each other’s cups to critique our choices. A little girl stares wide-eyed at the panda that I’ve seated on the park bench beside us. I smile and wave at her, and she waves hesitantly back.

When I came home from the trip, I dubbed that panda Simon. He sits on top of my wardrobe, slightly squashed by the low ceiling.

When we finish our sorbet, we walk down to the pier and look out at the gloomy sky as we talk. I sit on the edge of the pier and think about what might happen if I were to jump in, what people would think, whether it would be beautiful or reckless or absurd. I often think about jumping in.

The Start of Something New

WORDS Clara Yew @gottabeyew

ILLUSTRATION Lauren Easter @lauren.easter.art

Unfortunately, we can’t all be forced into karaoke at a New Year’s Eve party with a stranger and have that person move to our school when the term starts. Alas, life is not an excellent musical film by Disney Channel, but anything can happen when you take a chance.

Although, that makes it all sound so easy. Starting a conversation with someone new can be daunting. How are you supposed to get the words out of your mouth in the right order and tone? Or perhaps you’re on the apps and trying to create a flicker of genuine human connection out of all the monotonous swiping? Maybe that’s why, as a society, we tolerate pick-up lines we need something to get the (eye)ball(s) rolling.

In preparation for this article, I conducted the wholly unscientific research of gathering data by shamelessly asking everyone I came across on the street, on Instagram, my group chats, and even getting a shout-out from the good folk at Monash Love Letters (MLL). Some of them were so bad they made me regret learning how to read. So buckle up your seatbelts we’re all in this together!

#1. “Are you an orphanage? Because I want to give you kids.” Aaron* (19)

Context: Be upfront about your intentions. Make it clear that you want children from day one.

Would this work on me: Are children ever truly willingly given to orphanages? I always assumed these sorts of places arose to meet a need. Thought-provoking. 7/10

#2. “I'm Nike and you're McDonald's. I'm doing it, and you're loving it." Catmin to Simpmin

Context: These were used within an established relationship between MLL admins, Catmin and Simpmin. It may not bode as well to be so presumptuous with a stranger.

Would this work on me: It’s so sweet that they’re in a long-term relationship and still chatting each other up. Couples who become the bourgeoisie together, stay together. 10/10

#3. “Hey… How you doin’?” Joey** (23)

Context: This comes accompanied by a meme where Matt Le Blanc plays every character in the film Dune. It is captioned ‘How you Dune?’

Would this work on me: I’ve never seen that episode of Friends. 6/10

#4. “If nothing lasts forever, can I be your nothing?” Sydney** (23)

Context: G-rated. Can be used in all settings. Would this work on me: Suddenly I’m 13 and Twilight is deep. 10/10

#5. “Are you Wi-Fi? Because I’m feeling a connection.” Abraham* (28)

Context: As long as it isn’t Eduroam you’re talking about, should be right.

Would this work on me: Nope, I’m a boomer trapped in a millennial, thus technologically adverse. 7/10

#6. “Le ho chiesto: ‘cosa fai tonight?’ Mi ha risposto: ‘quello che fai te’”

Lila* (23)

Context: This comes from a former Italian exchange student and translates to “I asked her: ‘What are you doing tonight?’ She replied: ‘Same thing as you.’” It’s derived from a catchy Italian trap song and I am assured that learning to rap this will bring all the Italian trap boys to the yard.

Would this work on me: Lila tells me that “these guys just throw words together”, but I’m inspired to do more practice on Duolingo to truly appreciate this. 9/10

#7. “Hey girl, are you me? Because I love you despite your flaws.” A Retired Monash Stalkerspace Memer

Context: Extremely wholesome. This could work on anyone. If it doesn’t, you have the self-love to be okay. Would this work on me: Are you BTS? Because you have shown me I have reasons I should love myself. 10/10

#8. “Pick-up lines are all bad and cringe. I think people should treat each other with sincerity.” Da Wei* (22)

Context: I reckon this sounds like a snippet from a middle-of-the-night, philosophical conversation.

Would this work on me: The first half had me thinking that Da Wei was a 2013 hipster who could not be caught dead appreciating anything mainstream, but then it ended surprisingly earnestly. Wholesome. 10/10

You may not have agreed with some of my thoughts and ratings. In fact, I’m kind of hoping you didn’t. It really goes to show that there is no T.K.O. pick-up line since we all find different things funny, charming, and endearing. At the end of the day, the words you choose don’t matter just be kind. Those are the kind of words anyone wants to hear.

*Names changed to protect the innocent.

**They chose these pseudonyms, and are single and ready to mingle. DM me and I’ll set you up.

MUST BE LIKED!

WORDS Juliette Capomolla @juliettecapomolla

ILLUSTRATION Ilanda Tran @beesoutkneesout

We probably shouldn’t be giving up our own wants, needs, quirky traits and individuality for the sake of others’ satisfaction, particularly when our lives no longer depend on it.

I bought flared jeans because they were the thing Nevermind they accentuated my big hips and didn’t show off my smaller calves.

I cut bangs because everyone else was doing it. Let’s pretend I didn’t look like a moonface (as my mum would so kindly put it).

I downloaded TikTok so I could keep up with the jokes, despite knowing full well I would spend hours on that app when I could be doing something productive.

And that’s just to name a few times in my twenties when I’ve done a thing or two just to fit in It’s a terrible thing isn’t it, trying to keep up with the Joneses? So why do we do it?

As I’m sure you can all relate to (read: I’m praying you’ll all relate otherwise I’ll be so embarrassed), the desire to be liked plagues our existence. Perhaps it’s a disease for young adults, or perhaps it’s the ugly byproduct of social media. Whatever it may be, the yearning for external approval haunts me on the daily even though I’m well aware of how stupid I’m being.

Psychologists will tell us it’s all very natural. According to social identity theory, we create groups in society and form our own identity around our membership in those groups. So, it’s only fitting that we will shape our characteristics and personality traits to match the others in our “in group”. After all, evolutionarily, not fitting in could result in life or death consequences (not to be melodramatic or anything). Now that we’re no longer living in clans or hunting and gathering, perhaps this evolutionary trait is no longer relevant. We probably shouldn’t be giving up our own wants, needs, quirky traits and individuality for the sake of others’ satisfaction, particularly when our lives no longer depend on it. And yet, we still do.

Nowadays, it looks like changing your vocabulary to match the slang of the day, wearing low-rise jeans despite all the red flags telling you not to, buying a Frank Green water bottle so

everybody knows you’re trendy, or watching MAFS every night so you know what everybody is talking about. Sure, these social media trends (and trashy TV) are meaningless and don’t really have a big impact, but arguably, they are making us more basic, similar and monotonous than ever. Have you ever turned up to drinks with friends and you’re all matching in a black-leather-jacketcute-top-suit-pants-white-sneaker outfit? Same. Unfortunately, Basic White Girl — an easily identifiable breed thanks to Poppy Lissiman bags and Nike dunks — is now a derogatory term for all those who simply want to blend in. How shameful of us! How dare we follow the trends and try to fit in! You just can’t win around here.

It’s a real shame that we don’t encourage and pursue individuality. That’s not to say it doesn’t exist, but when someone attempts to stand out from the crowd, our Australian instinct tells us to bring them down a notch (thanks for nothing, tall poppy syndrome). I mean, we can’t have people embracing their true selves too much, right? There’s some weird comfort in everyone being the same — it’s predictable. And when others defy that comfortable sameness, we shut them down to appease our desire for normality. You’re probably well aware that this idea extends way beyond fashion trends and TikTok slang, but I digress.

Whether you enforce compliance with the status quo or are the victim of needing to be liked — or both, as we probably all are — it’s a tough cycle to break out of. I don’t know about you, but I’m hopeful that I won’t be craving everybody else’s approval my whole life. I’m hopeful that it is only a disease for young twenty-somethings, and I get to move on at some point.

I’d like to think I have the inner strength to just be myself and allow others to do the same, but that’s probably giving myself more credit than I deserve. After all, I do want to fit in and I do want to be liked. Is that such a bad thing?

Top 5 Recommendations To Bring You Hope WORDS Daisy Henry @daisyhenry_

ILLUSTRATION Gabrielle Poh @mochirune

Sometimes when you’re in need of a little hope, you might be inclined to venture outside for a walk or to enjoy a fun night out. Other times, you may simply want to retreat to your room, withdraw from the outside world, and enjoy some alone time.

In those instances, getting stuck into a funny TV show, a light-hearted movie, a binge-worthy podcast, or a whimsical novel might be the cure you need. So, in order to put together some joyful and uplifting recommendations, I enlisted some of my nearest and dearest to see what they like to read, watch or listen to when they need hope in their lives.

ME, DAISY

Tv Show: Schitt’s Creek Podcast: My Dad Wrote a Porno

I might be preaching to the converted (because no one I know doesn’t already LOVE this show), but for those who are unacquainted, stop what you are doing and turn on Schitt’s Creek right now. After a year of brushing off a friend’s recommendation (a classic case of stubbornly opposing something just because it’s popular), I finally gave in; with the most insanely funny characters and storylines, it quickly became my favourite show. I turn it on if I need something familiar and light-hearted, if I’m bored, need some cheering up or just want to laugh.

Or, if you’re the podcast type, may I suggest My Dad Wrote a Porno. Listen in as the host, Jamie Morton, and his two friends read aloud and make fun of his dad’s insane erotic book series, Belinda Belinked. Set in the business world of pots and pans and packed full of hilariously graphic sex scenes, it is laugh-out-loud funny.

MATT

Movie: Punch-Drunk Love (2002)

Adam Sandler does not immediately ooze ‘hope’, although his portrayal of the anxious and confused Barry Egan in Punch-Drunk Love makes you believe otherwise. An awkward romance with the intriguing Lena Leonard (Emily Watson), a mysterious harmonium, a phone-sex line, frequent flyer miles, and Philip Seymour Hoffman making every moment of his limited screen time count, culminates into an unforgettable 80-minute film that I revisit time and time again.

JESS Book: Someone Who Will Love You in All Your Damaged Glory by Raphael Bob-Waksberg

I read Raphael Bob-Waksberg’s Someone Who Will Love You in All Your Damaged Glory after being influenced by aesthetic photos on Instagram. But I must say, I have never read anything so clever, fantastical or hilarious it’s become my favourite book to date. With each short story centred around the experience of love, you can read into the deeper meaning of each symbolic narrative or simply enjoy it for what it is at surface level: an absurd piece of fiction. If I ever need an instant pick-me-up or laugh, it’s as simple as reading one of these short stories.

NICK TV Show: Curb Your Enthusiasm

The next time you’re craving some snackable comedic relief, I encourage you to ditch TikTok for the night and treat yourself to an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm. Packed with absurd plots, masterful (mostly improvised) jokes, and a protagonist I’m struggling to put into words, this show is my go-to pick-me-up. There’s something satisfying about watching Larry David casually stroll through the world with no filter, shamelessly refusing society's rules, and usually winding up in excruciatingly awkward situations. Give this cult classic a go; I assure you it’ll make you laugh like nothing else.

BRONWEN

Podcast: Shameless Love pop culture and celebrity gossip but still view yourself as an intelligent, quasi-intellectual, modern person? Well this is the podcast for you! With a tagline of “the podcast for smart people who love dumb stuff”, Shameless genuinely speaks to my soul. It’s my not-so-secret pleasure that transforms my work commute from an endurance trial to a bubble of joy and laughter. I’ve even been known to save up a couple of weeks of their Scandal episodes to run them back-to-back when I need to escape from the stressful and sometimes mundane reality of my working week.

Glass Half Full

Lochie McKay @lmckay_98

ILLUSTRATION My Tieu Ly @alruin_de

But I choose to see the glass as half full not because I think the world is perfect, but because I know that if the glass is half full, it can be filled the rest of the way.

I think my love affair with the bright side of life started when my dad and I watched Monty Python’s Life of Brian we’re the only two people in our family of six who loved that movie. For those of you who haven’t seen it, Brian is mistakenly believed to be the messiah, despite his protests that he is just an ordinary guy. He is then sentenced to death and while all his followers and his girlfriend have the chance to save him, they instead vow to preach his teachings and form a new religion in his name. So, as he is hanging there after being crucified, his buddy the next cross along tells him to “cheer up you old bugger, give us a grin” and launches into song. Needless to say, the joke never fails to get a good laugh out of me.

For those who have met me, it’s no surprise that I’m describing myself as the eternal optimist. I even look the part. With reddish-blond hair and a grin that seemingly never falters, I’ve been labelled the golden retriever of most of my friend groups. I take it as a compliment, as I’m a big fan of dogs and I love that my friends would consider me so loving and loyal. It makes me smile just thinking about it. Now I know some people aren’t big fans of these gorgeous and energetic pets, and conversely, a lot of people aren’t always big fans of us optimists. ‘Naïve’ is often a word that gets thrown about. ‘Silly’ is another. And they’re not always wrong I am silly when the mood’s upon me. I am terribly naïve when it comes to my own commitments about getting down to the gym.

But I choose to see the glass as half full not because I think the world is perfect, but because I know that if the glass is half full, it can be filled the rest of the way.

I would say it's almost my superpower to be constantly optimistic.

Not in a way that some optimism is characterised as crossing fingers and hoping for the best, but in a rooted belief that when I get out of my bed each day, I know I can go out and do some measure of good. That might be kindness or solidarity with my peers, having good humour and love with my family and my partner, or by moving through the world respecting each of its inhabitants. I know that it’s only a small drop of goodness, but it flows each time I get up and go. It helps fuel my writing and my thinking; it’s how I get myself up in the morning.

The awesome Martin Luther King, Jr. quote "the arc of the moral universe is long but it bends toward justice" is apt, and it's important to know that as an optimist, you are always in the "arc-bending" business, trying each day to shape the world towards justice.

Knowing that this is the business I'm in gives me joy, and helps me cherish the best parts of each day.

It also channels my efforts to understand the immense challenges of our time, and in that understanding, there's the belief that our actions can work towards meeting these challenges no matter what.

And sure, like everyone, I have my low points. Optimism has its drawbacks. It's impossible to always be looking on the bright side of life.

I suffer from chronic migraines, which are often triggered by things like heat, hot chocolate, too much physical exertion, and even by certain types of lighting. First, my vision goes funny, and I see stars and auras. Next is the pain.

It’s almost a crescendo; a symphony that deafens me, blinds me, and shatters my thoughts. After, waves of nausea roll through like the tide, all I care about is getting rid of the pain. And it can last for days, weeks… My worst lasted for three months. So yeah, it’s a pretty fucking unpleasant experience. But I think if I can make my life work despite this, then maybe things aren’t so bad.

One of the jokes that I love to tell is the one about the Optimist and the Pessimist. The Pessimist says, “things can’t possibly get any worse” and the Optimist says, “Oh yes they can!”

*Cue the outrageous laughter*

But the optimist isn’t wrong things can always get worse. If you don’t believe me, all you have to do is turn on the TV, look outside, or look at your phone. The worst is right there. But to me, that just means that there is more to be done; that there’s more to be passionate about fixing and saving.

Financial Security: From the Perspective of a Student WORDS Tess Kent @tess.kent

ARTWORK Carla J. Romana @crmn.studio

I’m sitting in my first-year marketing class. The term ‘sitting in’ is a bit of a stretch, given that it’s 2020 and all of my classes have been shifted to this peculiar platform called Zoom. We’re learning about the premise of cost/sacrifice value and I’m half paying attention, thinking about whether or not I need to remember this information for this week’s Moodle quiz. Yet, fast forward to two years later and now every day I live the eternal struggle of evaluating the cost/sacrifice value of my silly little $6.50 almond latte.

Growing up over the last decade, I’ve seen my older sister conquer university. I heard all about the Mi Goreng dinners, cheap bar nights, and the infamous cases of bin diving for food. I knew when it was my turn to be a university student that it was going to be tough, but I didn’t expect it to be that tough.

Living out of home comes with its menial and unrelenting responsibilities. Further, working part time and making sure to rock up to your tutorials each week comes with its own pressures.

But then, your friend Bella is messaging you to grab drinks tonight.

time I’ll be living some semblance of a financially secure life. The idea of financial security feels as foreign to me as when my housemate told me she was saving up for an investment property.

It feels unattainably beyond the realm of possibility for me.

I imagine a life where I can buy organic fruits and vegetables; where owning a house is a reality, not a fever dream. It all sounds materialistic, but that’s the payoff of attending university, right?

All this hard work is meant to help me feel financially secure one day. Hopefully.

Except that’s the grittiness of being a student we all complain about being poor, spending too much and earning too little. Yet, everyone knows this stress differently. Some of us live week to week, some are full-fee-paying students with three jobs to afford their upcoming fee statement, and some live at home and have the help of family. It’s the unspoken taboo of university life, talking about money and how much we do or don’t have of it.

The reality is, thinking about money sucks.

It’s also your dad’s birthday next week and you haven’t bought him a present yet. Rent is due in a fortnight too, and so is your internet bill or was that the gas bill? By the way, your car rego just arrived in the mail.

It’s exhausting. As students, we’re constantly met with the demands of each of our subjects and assignments. Social commitments pop up and we’re being encouraged to go and enjoy the ‘best years of our lives!’. Everything is a persistent struggle between cost and sacrifice if I don’t get an extra vodka lime soda tonight I can afford coffee with Emilia on Sunday.

The cost of living is rising and we’re all feeling those existential woes. The word ‘inflation’ has been the buzzword for the past six months. I constantly feel like my local Coles is gaslighting me.

I swear a carton of eggs didn’t cost that much last week?

As I begrudgingly pay an extra 50c for each of my grocery items, I like to think that in 10 years’

Yet, at one point or another we will all hit a stage of finding 101 ways to jazz up packet noodles. This struggle defines us in many ways. We cling to the hope that upon graduating, things will be easier. We’ll find that graduate job; we’ll have more disposable income to pay for those things we want rather than need (only I really do need that new Frank Green water bottle. It’s for emotional support, I swear).

I imagine a life where nothing is a matter of cost or sacrifice. I’m living in a world where my student loan is a distant memory. I can afford a weekly grocery shop that’s more than frozen veggies and packet rice. The dream of financial security extends beyond what I can put in my trolley each week; I hope that owning a house doesn’t seem like a ridiculous, untenable prospect, and maybe the conventionality of wanting a family will seem more appealing when backed by a stable income. The reality is, thinking about money sucks. After all, we are the generation who were offered to drain our superannuation as an option to afford a house deposit.

All that being said, thinking about standing there in my graduation gown and envisioning a grad offer waiting in my inbox gives me the hope that I’ll be walking into a life where money doesn’t consume my daily existence. Maybe the point of life is that we’ll never truly feel financially stable. Money really does come and go, and it’s important to remember we’ll only be 23 years old once so spend that

money on an exchange trip or blow your budget on the odd occasion for your mate’s birthday. We’re young twenty-somethings who thrive on hope, and if that includes buying into the idea of being financially secure one day, then so be it. Inflation is only getting higher, so let’s just hope I can still afford my almond latte when it hits $7.50.

The Happiest Day

WORDS Bryan Hoadley ILLUSTRATION Adrienne Aw @aw_adrienne

The taxi fills with sunlight. I’ve never been to this city before, but as I look out the window, I instinctively know I’m in LA. The car pulls up in front of a bright white hotel with large circular pillars and gleaming windows.

“Ms Davis is waiting for you in the foyer,” says a suited employee while ushering me inside. My chest tightens in anticipation. Hollywood, Davis this can only mean one thing.

And there she is in the foyer, curly hair as perfect as it was in the 1980s, arms wide open ready to meet me.

“Bryan! I’m glad you won the competition, and so look forward to our lunch together.”

I’m star-struck; my mind goes into overdrive. What will we talk about? Her 1988 Academy award? Or maybe the film Thelma and Louise and her crucial role in launching the career of fellow cast member Brad Pitt? Perhaps even archery and her near run to the Sydney Olympics? Which of her four marriages will I be bold enough to ask about?

Before I can get a word in, Geena Davis looks down to me. “We’ll just wait for Jeff and then go through to lunch.”

Surely she doesn’t mean Goldblum they’ve been divorced for over 30 years. I decide to politely remind Geena of her marital status just as Jeff Goldblum sashays in. He sweeps her into an enthusiastic embrace and proceeds to grasp my hand, giving me a warm smile. Is it a warm smile? Or does it seem slightly disingenuous? I’m forced to shake my hand a little from the firmness of his grip.

“Sorry little bud, did I hurt you there? You know, usually our contest winners are a little bigger than you,” he says while flashing me that smile again.

Christ, is Dr Ian Malcolm an arsehole? At lunch, Goldblum continues to be a dick. He asks me about the shirt I’m wearing. I explain that it was an op-shop find. I tell them I try to be sustainable by mainly shopping second hand. Goldblum obviously disapproves he’s wearing what appears to be some kind of gold bejewelled Prada flight suit. It’s an outfit you can only get away with when you’re the most fashionable man in Hollywood.

“Sustainable, huh? I wouldn’t have thought someone who took a 28-hour return flight for a mere lunch date would be interested in sustainability.”

Goldblum’s a certifiable prick. I look over at Geena smirking this isn’t happy at all.

My mind would often wander while I worked, because trying to conjure up happy fantasies was a great way to pass the time. Meeting Geena Davis was probably one of a thousand fictional encounters I had on the job, but for some reason everything about that day has stuck with me. It’s what pops into my head everytime I’m asked to think of a happy memory.

I’m 21 years old again, and coming off the back of a ten-hour shift where I spent my time printing labels on enema bags this also sounds made up, but it’s honestly how I spent most of my early twenties. The work is repetitive and dull and involves me sitting with my head over paint fumes for most of the day. The factory I work in must be kept at an uncomfortable 16 degrees, and the gown, hair net and goggles I’m stuck in always seem to itch no matter the position. On a good day, I’ll label over three thousand bags. It gives me a sore shoulder. It’s usually pretty grim. But today feels different; it’s the last week in February and, from my workstation, I can see a sliver of sunlight through the warehouse door. It’s pristine outside.

When I finally get out of the warehouse at 5:30pm, I sit in my Honda Civic and bake myself in the boiling car until some warmth returns to my body. My car is a mid-’90s model, meaning it only has a tape deck, but thanks to some magical contraption I can play my iPhone through the speaker. I put on an old favourite The Stone Roses knowing if I start the album as I leave, I’ll be on the last track by the time I reach my destination. I’m going away to the beach with friends for the weekend and can’t wait. Work has been tough, but I’ve paid my dues for the week. I’m finally free.

I think in actual fact there wasn’t anything special about that holiday. I ate, drank and laughed with friends. What stuck with me, however, was the time I had alone in the car, high on the joy of anticipation. In that one specific moment, life could have been anything. I was happy to be on the road in the evening warmth, and for once, all of life’s external noise was silent. I’m not sure it has been ever since.

She Is the Navy Blue

WORDS Caitlin Cefai @caitiece

ILLUSTRATION Madison Marshall @madagasc.art

The sweat. The rush. The crowd. The bounce. The game. It’s full throttle: no protective gear, played in the dead of winter, and known for being a petri dish for vulgarity and violence in its crowd; Aussie Rules is the sport for Australians. It’s as tough as its namesake nation the soul of a home with over 60,000 years of history. It’s a game for all Australians…

Well, up until only five years ago, it was actually a game just for men.

Despite being in the 125th year of the league, the AFL has historically been an all-men’s game, with testosterone fuelling the national sport at its most-watched level. That all changed in 2017 when a group of women with determination and a yearning for justice played their hearts out in the very first season of a women’s professional league; the AFLW. Since then, the league has transformed from just eight teams to eighteen, and with five seasons under its belt, it's only natural that its sixth is shaping up to be the best one yet.

Tickets to the inaugural 2022 match for the Bombers v Hawks at ETU Stadium sold out in 24 hours. Pressure was put on the AFL to move the game to the larger Marvel Stadium and it worked, resulting in a total attendance of 12,092 fans to watch Essendon defeat Hawthorn.

With a feat like this in round one, it’s only a matter of time before attendance records are broken, and the quality of game telecasting is improved to close the gap with the AFL. With a lineup of talented women as well as two publicly non-binary players, the league is giving a chance to those who have long been excluded from Aussie Rules footy.

I chatted with Amelia Velardo, #1 at Carlton, following a recent move from Collingwood.

What first got you interested in football?

AV: I grew up playing basketball; football was never really an option to find a career back then. Towards the end of my basketball career, I just lost love for the game, and football was becoming more prevalent in the [sports] environment. With the AFLW, and more competitions in school, I decided to give it a go.

I’ve grown up as a really big football supporter. I would always have a kick in the backyard with Dad on the weekend. I just thought ‘why not?’, gave it a go, and haven’t looked back since.

Have you always been interested in being an athlete, or do you have goals outside of football?

AV: I’m currently studying a double degree in Law and Media at La Trobe Uni, but I've always wanted to be an athlete. Originally a professional basketballer, I had the common dream to play here, go to college in America, and maybe make it into the big leagues. Now I obviously play footy and still have that athletic ambition, but being a female athlete in this climate [is] not sustainable as a full-time job at the moment unfortunately, so I keep open avenues on the side.

Where do you see yourself in five years?

AV: Footy is proving to be something that has great prospects for me. We got a pay increase, and because we get to build and network through the club, it helps us to balance between studying and playing the sport.

In five years, I hope I’m still playing footy on a list and have made some really positive strides in my career in both performance and position, and hopefully in some leadership as well. How has the transition from the Magpies to the Blues been?

AV: It’s been pretty full on some people don’t realise that emotionally it can be challenging even though it was my decision to make the move.

I will always have a lot of love for Collingwood. I’m so grateful for the opportunities they gave me and the learnings I gained.

I grew so much as a player and person from those experiences.

Making the move to Carlton was a really big thing for me, making new relationships. It’s tough going from a team you’re really comfortable with, from friends you’ve connected with over a couple of years, and then moving to a new environment. But the whole group at Carlton both staff and players have made it easier. It’s become my home quite quickly. What does the women’s league represent to you?

AV: It’s something that’s really special and probably something that we take for granted. I recently found an old photo of me in a baby Carlton jumper. It was a moment that kind of hit me; when I was growing up, football wasn’t an option for me because it simply didn’t exist. Now it’s my responsibility to help create visibility so that little girls have something to look up to and know they have a pathway.

There is also the consideration that while we talk about the younger generation and representation for them, I also see an obligation to the older women. They will talk about how amazing it is to see us play, and what they would give to have had that opportunity if only it was around for them back then. I was in hospital once from a footy injury (in my Collingwood gear at the time) and the nurse who was treating me said, “oh my God, do you play for Collingwood?!”. She just went on about how she knew women like herself who just would’ve given anything to be doing what we as female players are today. The impact it had on them, seeing us being able to achieve those things, is really special. What is’s a message you would like to tell the little girls out there that look up to you?

AV: Don’t lose the child-like love that you have discover what you love about your passion and then fight to never lose that.

Letters of Hope: For My Own Sake...

WORDS Eden Hopgood @edie.hopgood

PHOTOGRAPHY Lauren Gallina @lauren.gali

Dear future me,

I hope you’re healthy; I hope you’re happy.

I hope you’ve said yes to every opportunity that fulfils you and learnt to say no to the ones that don’t.

I hope you’re exactly where you need to be at this point in time.

I’m here writing you this letter as our 21-year-old self, reflecting on all that we’ve already experienced in this life and contemplating all we are yet to.

I’m proud of the life you’ve built and how hard you have worked to achieve your goals so far I don’t think I remind myself of that often enough, so I hope you’ve learnt to congratulate yourself more.

I hope you’ve got that job you wanted and that you worked hard to get there. I am writing to you currently in our second-last year of uni and at the beginning of this journey now, working as hard as we can to access and take as many opportunities as we’re given: I hope you continue to persevere.

With every no, a new door opens, and beyond it, a new chance.

In saying this, don’t push yourself. You don’t have to, and often won’t get the opportunity to experience everything exactly when you want to. This has been a hard lesson for me to learn and one I’m still learning to not take things personally and not stress if plans go awry. We’ve always been good at stressing.

A lot has happened in the last few years between COVID and its impact on your mental health, the feelings of isolation, and the frustrations of moving to and from Melbourne that has made you feel this way. But recently, I am coming to terms with the fact that life doesn’t have to be riddled with uncertainty and worry. Just look at how much my life has changed in the last few years; I’ve gone from living in a small town to now living in Melbourne, with more great and loving friends than I ever imagined and so many more opportunities.

You don’t have to be constantly worried about upsetting others, doing wrong, or not getting something, because at the end of the day you are living your life for yourself, and there are endless opportunities for you to seize. Life works out the way it is going to, and you’re not any less obligated to enjoy things based on one mistake or miscalculation. I hope you live out this mantra and that you don’t let yourself live your life riddled with guilt or anxiety, because you won’t truly enjoy it if you do. And we deserve to.

So, take those leaps, keep working towards your goals, and remember to relax. Everything is going to plan, slowly but surely

I hope.

Disappointing the Family

WORDS Jackie Zhou @cowboydepopp

ARTWORK Mon Ouk @mono.goose

When you live with certain scars for so long, eventually you get used to their existence and trying to remove them is often more troublesome and painful than just letting them remain.

Asian parents.

This pair of words, no matter what background you are from, may have elicited some sort of image or reaction from you; perhaps it’s a ‘helicopter mum’, or a pair of harsh and strict parents who disdain the arts and force their poor second-gen immigrant children to become doctors, lawyers or engineers. Maybe it's the generational trauma passed down each line on the pedigree chart, a theme we have been seeing a lot in our media, depicting the stories of Asian immigrant families and the dynamic between traumatised parents and cultural freedom-seeking children.

Yes, these parents do exist. But the story of my parents is one that Hollywood cannot replicate, because my loving and devoted but equally conflicting and antithetical existence with my mother and the rest of the family is much too mundane for the big screen to profit off.

My parents are the kind of people who harbour many traumas from their respective Chinese childhoods, traumas that they will never have the opportunity to heal from. When you live with certain scars for so long, eventually you get used to their existence and trying to remove them is often more troublesome and painful than just letting them remain.

Despite this, my parents are kind. They cut me fruit slices when I’m upset, and hug me when I cry.

My parents are funny, and they are always the kind of people who find laughter, even if childhood ghosts haunt them every day and night.

My parents are strong, and they have the courage and resolve to persevere through all manners of suffering if it means me and my siblings don’t have to worry about survival like they did.

Most surprisingly, my parents are understanding even when they don’t understand.

“No matter what you choose to do, we will support you. That’s what parents have to do.”

Changing my career dreams from something as definitive as veterinary science to something as vague as the arts required a lot of explaining.

No mum, it’s not like drawing, it’s like… studying how people interact with each other. Yes, there are jobs for it. No, I don’t really know what I want to do after uni. Yes I’m studying journalism, but I don’t want to be a journalist. No, I don’t know what I’m doing. I know you’re worried about me. Thank you for trusting me. I love you too.

Every day, I try to infuse my actions with gratitude for my parents' sacrifices, which only makes going against some of their beliefs that much more painful, even if I have no control over it. My sexuality, gender identity, career path, tattoos, the way I dye my hair, the hobbies I enjoy any part of my identity I had the opportunity to explore in a way that they didn’t are all aspects of my life I can never communicate with them. Their prejudices and principles have made permanent markings, and I’m afraid that exposing them will make me lose them in the future.

Although I now identify as queer and non-binary, I grew up having absolutely no idea who I was or what I liked, or what I wanted to be or who I wanted to hang out with at lunchtime, or what kind of person older me would look like.

My mundane, suburban world perspective changed drastically after graduating high school. Online dating, pandemonious pandemics, self-taught schooling, university life, and being more exposed to different people and ideologies changed who I was and who I thought I’d become.

I am eternally grateful for my family, but I am also equally grateful for the support group I have built while shedding my childhood skin and growing into an adult.

Being forcefully released from the south-eastern suburbs has forced me to reflect on a lot of things about my identity, especially regarding my queer identity.

Growing up in a predominantly white, cis-het environment that silently normalised and perpetuated casual racism, transphobia and gender binaries all while being raised by a cis-het family who rarely discussed issues surrounding queerness and gender identities has left indents on my ego that I didn’t even know were there, such as:

#1. Sharing my pronouns in a jokey tone, because not being taken seriously was something to be expected #2. Taking 10 months to share my preferred pronouns with coworkers I trusted and enjoyed talking with, because I just didn’t know how they’d react #3. Being overly understanding and forgiving of people who misgender me when I am given none of the same empathy back #4. Sharing anecdotes of internalised homophobia with my friends without realising until much later on that it was internalised homophobia #5. Being intrigued but terrified of the idea of medically transitioning, especially while living with my parents

#6. Being absolutely terrified and uncomfortable of coming out to my siblings out of fear of rejection and subsequent resentment

The list will simply continue to grow as I get older, and I will, eventually, have to confront my family about the reality of a lot of my identity and choices. If you haven’t noticed while reading my list above, the common denominator of all my issues is sacrificing my own happiness and self-satisfaction for the comfort of others. But I would not change it for the world, and certainly not for the sake of comfort.

I am eternally grateful for my family, but I am also equally grateful for the support group I have built while shedding my childhood skin and growing into an adult. I will continue growing into my own identity because I know my parents’ hard work and dedication to my survival has permitted me to, and also because I have people I can explore these things with, together.

Together. Together.

What a lovely word to describe what gave me hope for the future.

Thank you to everyone who continues to help me grow my biggest hope for our future is to do so together

Through the Looking Glass

WORDS & ARTWORK

Madeleine Galea @the_maddsiah

my breath fogs gently, steaming up the icy glass, a tiny dragon obscuring the night beyond, a dark sky speckled with stars, frost stretching out into an eternity, as deep as the cold abyssal sea, that stretches forth beyond horizons, trickling down, the condensation races droplets searching for edges, beads turning into pools, on their mighty quest to form oceans, as water completes its circle of being, its cycle, the state of matter, a matter of fact, statement unchanged by strife. My eyes catch on my own reflection, both my present self and my future, reflecting on the past, standing on the other side of the glass, the twinkles turning to eyes that blink straight from the sky, a darkness murmurs softly, all nights must turn to day, and the self we see will ebb away to lighter mornings and warmer skies, the water drops race, gunning down the panes, and the moon turns on her swift heels, chasing after, down down down, until the air is left with nothing but light, and we see past ourselves into the glorious unknown of what could be if we let our well-guarded dragons embrace their fires

Letters of Hope: For Your Sake...

WORDS Andie Perez PHOTOGRAPHY Lauren Gallina @lauren.gali

My dear friend,

The last time we saw each other, your feet were perched on the seat as you smoked a cigarette in my car. I tried to hide my grimace as the lights of passing cars played shadows on my face. The tobacco was bold and all-consuming. As I spoke about the turmoil of my schedule, I caught your bored gaze, wandering eyes and pursed lips. You wanted to keep talking about yourself. A heaviness latched inside me as I realised that I was not your friend, but merely a confidant. A sister. A therapist.

The last time we saw each other, we didn’t hug like we usually did. Perhaps by intuition, we both knew we wouldn’t see each other for a while. This was the painful truth: the honeymoon phase of our friendship had ended. The distance between us became palpable, and we both began to accept it.

If it was so easy for us to become friends, is it just as easy for us to break apart? I find myself guilty over this, as if I let you peek into my life and then forced you out with the slam of a door. But I also believe that you would understand me and say: It's okay, Andie, it’s not your fault. I know that distance and breakups don’t always need to have a negative connotation. None of us did anything wrong our compatibility had simply fizzled out.

Although our last meeting had been slightly wistful, I had never once regretted having you in my life. I am brought back to being 18 again, of our unrestrained laughter and feet in the sand. How we traded social media for library books. Our midnight calls about the pleasures and problems of our lives. I laugh at our gym sessions that were later contradicted by Maccas for lunch. We lived life freely that summer.

Perhaps, we can grow as individuals, even if not alongside each other. I have faith that our distance apart can remain civil and respectful. We can still wish the best for each other without talking every day that we'll still have the occasional meet-ups, birthday messages, chance encounters. Though we may never be as close as we once were, I'll always be down for a catch-up.

I want you to know how much you have taught me in becoming my biggest supporter when nobody else was rooting for me and to screw the people who didn't recognise my self-worth. You showed me that this world isn't bleak at times and that we could slow down and celebrate our youth. I was amazed by your ability to take opportunities and learn something different. You hated your hands, for they were calloused and rough from work, but I saw the hands of a person who was courageous amidst challenges that most of us do not face.

I think about you constantly. I wish you could be kinder to yourself and take the advice you gave to me. Even if I am watching from a distance, I cannot wait to see you continue to flourish and thrive on your own path, at your own pace.

All the best, Andie

Please Accept This Letter As Notice of My Resignation

WORDS Ruby Ellam @ruby.ellam

PHOTOGRAPHY Hayley Maree @hayleymaree

Dear Valiant and Noble Leader,

I write to you today in a flurry of tears. It is with my deepest regret, that I must abandon my post, and respectfully and woefully step down from the minimum wage retail job that you kindly gifted me so long ago.

Despite your best efforts to influence my attitude towards indifference and incompetence, I have remained too headstrong to break completely. This is no fault of your own! You did indeed endeavour endlessly to demean both me and others into submission, and your consistency was a marvel to behold! Before meeting you, I’ve never been so close to snapping before, and I’ve met my fair share of tyrants, so you should be proud of your efforts. Unfortunately, due to my own shortcomings for example, my inability to relinquish my soul I will never be a suitable candidate for the team you desperately need.

I want to specifically commend your worklife balance. I’ve never been able to manage my own sexual needs while in a workplace environment without bordering on inappropriate behaviour, but the way you remain professional while still humiliating young workers and eating your upper management’s ass, would make skilled perverts envious. Being middle-aged in middle management, I’m sure it's hard to keep your small and mighty dick hard. But I’m glad you’ve found a safe haven in the sadistic way you treat those who report to you, while simultaneously happily scoffing down your own superior’s faecal matter with the voracity of a starved man. Talk about versatility!

Speaking of the humiliated: thank you for reminding me how low on the totem pole I am!

Despite the fact that I was given much more responsibility than my coworkers due to my work ethic and competence, I’m grateful to have

not received a title, compensation or simple acknowledgment of any effort! It really put me in my place. Admittedly, this was just a casual job to pay my rent and provide some variety on my resume, but it never should have been a source of happiness, security or self esteem what was I thinking? A job you enjoy is not worth doing!

Really I shouldn’t have been compensated at all, instead doing it for the love of low-income retail. Unfortunately, not being compensated is against the law (boo!), so I respect your decision to pay me just enough to appease the tyrannical workers rights union. Dirty socialists! Don’t they understand that you only make a few million a year? And sure, the people on the floor are the ones making that money, but really, it's the pure brilliance of management arbitrarily changing non-important things that gets the real coin. In fact you should get even more money! Add a few more bonuses onto your paycheck take it out of mine if needed. Finally I want to thank you for this invaluable opportunity. I have learnt next to nothing about the job itself (my own incompetence, I’m sure!), but I have learnt the irreplaceable skill of surviving a hellish job with no incentives. I have discovered my limit, and I will be sure to leave a similar job much sooner than I endured here. I’m certain you won’t remember me, despite all my best efforts to contribute to a happy and functional work environment, and I will be replaced by the next stooge who will go through the same seven layers of hell I did before realising that a swift “fuck you” and exit will fix all their problems. So in that case,

Fuck you, Ruby P.S. I’m reporting you to OH&S for the rats.

Herein Lies Hope

WORDS Zayan Ismail @zayanisml

ILLUSTRATION Adrienne Aw @aw_adrienne

As I write this on a gloomy day, it’s hard to stay positive with such dull weather, with the state of the world, in this economy in crisis. The world as we know it is always in flux. Conversations around the climate crisis, a recession and a never-ending array of diseases that seem to prolong the pandemic.

The resulting rise of the cost of living, inequality and discrimination seem to have set root in our public consciousness and become so normalised and trivial. It is true that in these trying times, much remains beyond our control. Society is as polarised as ever, causing many to seek validation and acceptance as they feel left out and unheard.

The question is then, how do we find hope? Can it even exist in such dire circumstances? What is all this talk about hope anyway?

In the dictionary, hope is defined as “a feeling of expectation and desire for a particular thing to happen”.

Is it possible to be thoughtlessly optimistic without understanding the consequences of life?

I have learnt that the first step to instilling hope over fear is letting go of your rigid expectations and control at times, we need to let go of our control (Ctrl), à la SZA. I’ve learnt a lot from that album written and performed by the multiGrammy-nominated artist and all-around best human being. When we let go and just accept the delayed flight or the poorly made coffee (maybe the barista is just having a bad day?), things begin to seem less important. On harder days, I would listen to SZA and her thoughtful words on living through life’s ups and downs, and finding hope through music. Hope is discoverable in the most unexpected places and to find it, we must be present, mindful, and grateful for what we have. In this way, we can create positive outcomes for ourselves rather than longing for them without an ounce of work.

Trust me. It’s not easy to be positive all the time! It does help, though, if we stay optimistic and focus on the good instead of the bad. It’s like when you draw the death card in a tarot reading (for my fellow believers). While it might seem to foretell an untimely demise, it’s actually all about fresh beginnings and letting go of the old.

Like hopelessness, being hopeful is also how you look into situations in your life sometimes, with a little faith and dedication, things are better than they might seem on the surface. On difficult days, even the mere fact of existence gives me enough hope to continue.

Perhaps you find hope in writing, just like me, in my efforts to find substance and meaning through advocacy for marginalised communities. Whatever they might be, our hobbies remind us why we love the things we do; even in the clothes we wear, the colours, shades, prints, and designs feed our creativity and vibrance. The books we read give us something to look forward to escaping in, and allow us to understand life from different perspectives. And if we choose to listen to these new ideas, perhaps we can find more hope through mutual understanding rather than conflict. In a world like that, there will be plenty of hope for everyone. Let’s try to respect each other's differences and agree to disagree.

While reading an article in Vogue, one line stuck with me: “When I chose to relax my subservience to the demands of gender roles, I started looking elsewhere for other unnecessary baggage I could get rid of”. It reminds me of the need to resign from my own rigid ideals and look beyond the horizon for new inspiration. To believe in something bigger than yourself in that way can not only free you, but also liberate you from the shackles of societal pressure, help you find the light and courage to be yourself, and believe in your ideals. Sometimes, the daily grind distracts us from what matters most (money isn’t everything, it’s true). The whole purpose of self-discovery is to reignite that fire for the important stuff, because were we all put here just to work nine to five, endlessly, on a floating piece of rock? I think not!

Remaining true to who you are and focusing on your interests, passion and drive is what matters.

Focus on the good and do good unto others. Who knows maybe someone typing a few words from a faraway land can bring a shimmer of hope to many, just as I read an article in Vogue and was reminded to believe in myself.

I sincerely hope that my drawn-out philosophising on hope at least got you thinking. Finding hope is difficult when it often feels like Earth is falling apart around us, but the act of persisting despite everything is testament to the enduring human spirit. We can look towards a brighter dawn: a breath of fresh air, another cup of coffee, a good book to read, a getaway vacation, a cute outfit, friends and family. When you feel down, have courage to look forward and beyond for in that brighter dawn lies many possibilities.

Gritting Your Teeth

WORDS Alice Wright @alicewrt

ILLUSTRATION Uyen Dien @onoffmilk

One thing we can all relate to is the inevitable highs and lows that life offers us. I think sometimes it seems as though every win is matched with three losses. As soon as you feel like you’re climbing the ladder of victory, there’s a strong, mighty wind that swoops around to knock you down a few pegs. When I’m feeling positive, I like to see it as character-building. When I’m revelling in pessimism, I feel sorry for myself and like to blame my own actions for things not going the way I wish they did. Really, it’s a horrible feeling to be down on yourself. But what’s the key to being resilient through our ongoing misfortunes?

The older I get, the more I realise that tough times and sensitive situations are unavoidable they are simply part of life. Therefore, I have no choice but to learn how to make things easier for me to get through.

This year, I made it my goal to get a full-time job, or a job related to my degree. My first mistake was telling everyone I knew that I was job searching. Every time I saw someone they asked me how it was going, which only served as a reminder that it wasn’t going. My second mistake was thinking that it wouldn’t be that hard getting a job. And my third mistake was thinking it wouldn’t take that long to get a job.

I found the overall experience pretty stressful. After receiving many (and I mean many) rejections, I started to judge myself and try to find reasons why I wasn’t good enough for these roles.

However, picking myself apart wasn’t going to help me achieve my goal.

I had to keep my head up and take the time to understand that it clearly wasn’t the right role for me and didn’t come at the right time. I also took the rejections as opportunities to learn about what

I could do better I would email and call to ask for feedback and found that generally, people were pretty happy to help.

If I could offer any advice, it would be to understand the value in turning losses into opportunities. Use them as a learning tool, grow from them and show the world that you can come back twice as strong.

Just over six months later, I ended up getting a job. I slightly altered my goal and expectations, adjusted my thinking process, and just kept applying for job after job. I think one of the greatest lessons I’ve learnt and the hardest to overcome and accept is what will be, will be. Not everything is going to work out in the end, and that’s because it’s not supposed to. Don’t chase after someone or something that doesn’t show you that they want you. Stop waiting for that friend to show up during hard times. Remember that your family doesn't always have the time or energy to have your back. Sometimes, being resilient is knowing when it’s best to move on and let go. It’s not worth waiting for people to treat you the way you deserve to be treated, because in my experience, they aren’t going to change. Putting in the work to find people who make you feel warm and loved is so important. It may not be the easiest option it takes time, effort and a great deal of trial and error but you will forget about everyone who never gave you the love you needed.

Most of all, trust yourself. Find the strength inside to use all setbacks, insults and obstacles as motivation to be better, and take them as they come. At the end of the day you’ve only got yourself to rely on. Be proud of where you are today, and take every little win as a huge motivation.

Adulting

WORDS Soraya Rezal @sorayarezal

PHOTOGRAPHY Callum Johnson @neo.cog.ito

Despite all the challenges, becoming independent has allowed me to embark on a journey of self-discovery.

At 15 years old, all I could think about was how great it would be if I lived alone, because that would mean I was an adult, right? I could sing my lungs out without being judged, leave the house whenever I wanted and eat at whatever time I desired. The thought of having complete independence was enticing, but I didn’t quite think about the responsibilities that came with being an adult. When the day finally came or more accurately, the days leading up to it I was terrified, to say the least.

To give you a bit of context, I moved to Melbourne in February 2022. I went from living with my family in my home country, to living alone in a country where I knew a grand total of two people (who I’d only met virtually). In the days leading up to my flight, I was the most disorientated I’ve ever been. Can you believe that for months, I was telling everyone I knew about how excited I was to move, but when the time came, I felt so anxious that I even threw up a few times? Embarrassing, I know. In my defence, I was about to experience multiple firsts at the same time because that was my first ever solo trip, too. Of course I was terrified!

Fast forward to when I arrived in Melbourne, and it took me about two seconds to realise that from that moment on, I was officially an adult. My first week here was a bit of a struggle (and by a bit, I mean I cried for four days straight). Even putting on my bedsheets was a challenge

I had no idea how to lift the mattress without breaking my back. But the moment that completely broke me was when I realised I had to cook for myself. Now, I don’t mean to sound privileged, but prior to this, I had never cooked a full meal by myself. Back home, I was often tasked to set the dining table, but I was almost never in the kitchen.

I remember sitting in my room, my stomach grumbling, thinking about how to avoid starvation. I knew that spending all my money on takeaway food everyday was not a good idea, so I decided to Google some easy recipes; the first thing that popped up was spaghetti carbonara.

I got up from my chair, put some makeup on and went to the nearest Woolworths to buy cookware and the ingredients I needed (and yes, I did wear makeup just to go on a five-minute walk to the grocery store and yes, I did buy all of my cookware from Woolies).

When I got back to my accommodation and started to cook, everything went wrong. I spilled milk everywhere, I didn’t add enough cheese… it was a complete shit show. The finished product was less like pasta, and more of a soup. I kid you not, I turned the stove off and started bawling right there and then. How the hell do adults do this?!

As clichéd as it sounds, practice really does make perfect.

I’m not saying I’ve perfected my carbonara (though I did try to cook it again after that first traumatic experience) but I’ve accepted the fact that it’s a dish that I’m just incapable of making. Instead, I decided to experiment with other types of pastas… and also sandwiches. But that’s about it. My culinary knowledge does not go beyond pasta and sandwiches. And that’s fine by me! A big part of adulting is being able to identify your strengths and weaknesses, which is something that I am admittedly still working on. Nowadays, I tend to rely on takeaway food for dinner, but I try to cook at least once a week so that I can work on my cooking skills.

If there’s one piece of advice I could give my past self and to you, dearest reader, I would say it’s time to get your ass up and go to the kitchen. I’m kidding… but in all honesty, I think I would have benefitted from practising a bit of independence when I was still living with my family, be it cooking my own meal or doing my own laundry.

Although, I don’t regret taking my time to embrace adulthood. It’s equally important to make the most of your childhood because trust me, it only gets more stressful from there! Despite all the challenges, becoming independent has allowed me to embark on a journey of self-discovery.

Glass Half Empty

WORDS Sarah Arturi @saraharturi

ILLUSTRATION My Tieu Ly @alruin_de

Living in a world that’s obsessed with being happy is exhausting.

If I was given a dollar for every time I was told to ‘stay positive’ and to ‘keep my chin up’ in all kinds of negative situations growing up, I’d probably be a millionaire by now. I heard it from everyone teachers, friends, family, Disney movies, and even fictional characters in books. It helped me through some tough times, I’ll admit, but somehow I always managed to find peace in preparing for the worst. I guess you could say I’m a glass-halfempty kind of girl, and whilst some may believe this mindset is to my detriment, I dare all the optimists to practise what they preach: look on the bright side.

Derived from the Latin word literally meaning ‘the worst’, pessimism is a way of thinking with a particular focus on negative outcomes that could potentially occur in the future. Some describe it as a strategy to help them manage their anxiety when the undesirable plays out, while others think of it as being a realist. Whatever the reasons are, pessimistic attitudes are valid. In fact, humans have been practising pessimism for a very long time. Take Robert L Leahy, a psychiatrist from Cornell University, who suggested that the survival of the ‘primitive man’ came down to identifying the cons of a dire situation, such as leaving the cave to hunt for food. Okay I acknowledge that the typical 21st-century human isn’t living the same life as our caveman ancestors, but it makes me think about the possibility that pessimism has always been an important aspect of life. So why does modern society frown upon it?

Now that I’ve dissected the fundamental meaning of pessimistic thinking down to the roots of our homo sapien MVPs perhaps I should break down my own roots. My upbringing consisted of my accountant dad always reminding me ‘not to bite off more than I can chew’, mixed with my scientist mum, who analyses the positive and negative outcomes of blood samples for a living. I’m not saying my family life was doom and gloom, but I am a firm believer that “you are who you

surround yourself with” thanks, Mum.

As a family, whether we were preparing for a relaxing holiday interstate, or installing portable heaters in our bedrooms during winter, it always turned into worrying that we might miss our flight or that our house might burn down. Fortunately, neither of these scenarios ever actually happened, and I believe we have our pessimism to thank. By envisioning the details of everything that could go haywire in a possible reality, we curated an action plan to ensure the imaginable mishaps would not occur. Some may call us worrywarts, but I call it the power of contingency plans. Since we’re on the topic of reflecting on my childhood, I’ve recently started to recognise when my pessimistic tendencies prevailed during certain events growing up. For example, throughout high school, keeping my expectations low before returning a grade on a test was a ritual to maintain my disappointment if I didn’t do so well. Going for my driver’s licence had me anticipating how I was going to notify my family and friends if I failed after completing my three-point turn in four steps. Even competing in my first school sports event saw me mentally preparing for how I would congratulate the other athletes after finishing last in the 400m sprint (I actually came second last, much to my surprise). Looking back on these times, I can admit I was a tad bit dramatic.

However, I can also admit that my pessimism kept me afloat and held me accountable for not trying my best.

In fact, I subconsciously prepared myself to prevent any negative outcomes from playing out, and consequently saw positive results in return. Exhibit A, B, and C: my grades in school were of a high standard, I passed my driving test in one go, and I pushed myself to compete in other long-distance running events no matter where I placed.

Delving deeper into this glorified ode to pessimists, I want to recognise that living in a world that’s obsessed with being happy is exhausting. We’re taught from day dot that the key to happiness is to sweep negativity under the carpet altogether. Otherwise known as toxic positivity a major contributor to the widespread burnout felt amongst society today I feel that it is crucial to bring to light the importance of being negative in moderation. Too much positivity can be just as harmful as too much negativity, and it shows. The key difference between tempering everything with a healthy dose of negativity and displaying

signs of depression or anxiety is the way we use it to cope. Like anything in life, if it's bringing us down then it's probably not right for us, and I encourage anyone feeling tied down by their negative thoughts to speak out to a professional, trusted family member or companion.

So to all my pessimists out there, it's time to put a positive spin on pessimism.

As Noah Centineo once said: “it matters not what you’ve done, but what you do with that pessimism for others” or something like that.

Starting Afresh

WORDS Angel Tully @angel.tully

ARTWORK Madeleine Galea @the_maddsiah

My mother thought she had her whole life ahead of her at 25. She had just married her high-school sweetheart of nearly ten years and was beginning to climb the ranks in the fashion industry while working for Nautica. Moving from a small town in Canada to the big city of Toronto, her life was playing out like a rom-com. But by the time she turned 26, her dream life was crumbling around her.

After a fatal accident, my mother found herself in a grief support group for widows, most of whom were much older than her. Life, as she had always known it, had been ripped away from her in an instant, leaving behind the pain of a seemingly unmendable broken heart. In a time of total darkness, she felt as though hope was inconceivable. Attempting to escape the grief she was drowning in, my mother travelled for months. She visited Hong Kong, Bangkok, the Philippines, Bali, Sydney, New Zealand, Hawaii, and finally… Fiji.

Something about this period of solo travel in my mother’s life has always reminded me of Eat, Pray, Love (coincidentally one of my favourite books!). I think that the desire to leave behind everything constant to ‘find yourself’, so to speak, is a mindset that many young women go through, as I certainly have. Yet few are brave enough to actually take the leap, and bravery has always been a quality I admire about my mother.

My father’s ability to bring even a spark of joy back into my mother’s life is what flicked a switch in her; that perhaps there was still hope for her to find happiness again.

That was until the unthinkable happened the persistent Australian man, who has always been revered for his dad-joke humour, made her laugh. A laugh which had long been buried away under the layers of sadness and loss. My father’s ability to bring even a spark of joy back into my mother’s life is what flicked a switch in her; that perhaps there was still hope for her to find happiness again. Perhaps there was still time for her to start afresh. The feeling of being overwhelmed by emotion, unable to escape your own headspace, is one I’m all too familiar with. Whether it be stress from friends, study or love, sometimes it feels as though nothing can bring me out of that state. I want to say that I’ve learnt from my mother’s story, that I can find comfort in people who care about me and love me. Although it may be partially true, the reality is that it isn’t easy to expose your vulnerabilities and open yourself up to love and trust, and I am still learning to overcome this every day. I guess you could say that my mother is the one who pulls me from the quicksand and inspires me to overcome this challenge.

It was on this brief three-night stay on a Fijian island not much bigger than a football oval that she met my dad. Finding the courage to start afresh emotionally was no easy feat. In fact, my mother felt she would never find love again after the immeasurable heartbreak she had endured. Closing herself off from new possibilities, it was no surprise that she was hesitant to give my dad a chance when he struck up a conversation in the lobby of their hotel.

Grief had followed her on her travels, despite her attempts to escape it, and nothing could pull her out of the quicksand that consumed her.

Of course all good things come at a cost. Not only did my dad live halfway across the world, he also had three little children from a previous marriage. So, in a time before social media, or even emails, they wrote letters to each other, and racked up gigantic phone bills in order to keep in touch. Six months after their first meeting, my father went to visit her in Canada. They had only spent a total of three weeks in person together before he proposed on this trip… to which my mother promptly and politely declined. The next time they saw each other was in Guam, where he proposed again. Even though she had finally started to feel happier and hopeful again, she couldn’t see herself moving all the way to Australia, and becoming a stepmother no less.

But like all good love stories, my dad wore her down and on his second attempt, she said yes. Moving to Australia was very daunting she had no family, friends or even acquaintances there except my dad. There were many times when she felt isolated and alone, without the comfort of her own friends or an outlet for her frustrations. Yet at the same time, she experienced the euphoria of a new husband and an exciting new adventure. After her journey through grief, my mother experienced the six stages of starting her life over again.

The journey of starting over both emotionally by overcoming immense loss, and literally by leaving behind everything and everyone, was not easy. Rebuilding a life in Australia, making new friends, and making it her home took many years. Though she’s happy now and has found peace, I know she still wonders what could have been if she had stayed in Canada.

But now that she can look back on her life, she can see that despite all the struggles she faced to get to this point in her life, everything turned out okay. Having overcome unimaginable losses and challenges that most people could never fathom, my mother is the strongest person I know. Many people would have given up, and even though I know she contemplated giving up too, she never let herself lose hope. Hope that if she pushed on, she would finally be rewarded and be able to heal. Hope that no matter how dark, she would always keep searching for a flicker of light.

Her story inspires me to never lose faith and to persevere through everything life throws at me both the good and the bad. She proves that no matter how far you think you’ve fallen, you can always find someone to help pull you back up in her case, a dreamy (my dad’s word choice) Australian man.

A Kid's

WORDS

Gabriela Fannia

@gabrielafannia

ILLUSTRATION

Emilia Bajer

@emi.com.des

Innocent wishes and boundless imagination, with a touch of hopefulness that is what childhood dreams are made of. Funny how we don’t remember most things from the past (let alone last Monday’s dinner), yet a childhood dream will always have its place in a precious storage box, tucked inside the mind.

I spoke to four people about their dream as a kid, and what they are doing today.

A Penny for Every Written Word

With a love of books and high marks in English class, Rebecca (21) hoped to be a novelist, and sometimes a cashier “because it looked like a lot of money, and it looks so satisfying scanning items and typing things”.

“Once I got to high school, I realised being a novelist was impractical.” Living in Illinois, US, she is now completing her studies on Quantitative Economics and Communications.

Nevertheless, she is drafting her way through plenty of writing for a student-run newspaper.

“I would still like to be a published author someday, although that dream has evolved,” Rebecca muses. “While I still love creative writing, I would most likely want to write something non-fiction or more academic… in an attempt to make some difference, hopefully for the better.”

Taking Up Caretaking

Mike (24) is patient, kind, and a good listener. As a kid, his father was his role model and inspired him to be a CEO. “I wanted to become a leader,” he tells me.

Despite three years of studying commerce, Mike found a passion he’d never thought he had in him: caretaking. Sometimes nocturnal, and often an early bird, he works through dusks and dawns as a nurse in an aged care facility in Vermont South.

“I enjoy being there for vulnerable or sick people, and realising the little things I do can actually make their day,” he says. “That is what I find fulfilling in nursing.”

Dream

Race Ya to the Startup Line

Straightforward and prompt, Jeff (24) is the kind of person you’d think would never miss a deadline.

“I actually wanted to be a racecar driver,” he tells me.

Always placing first or second in go-kart races and regularly watching The Fast and the Furious, he grew up obsessed with “anything that had wheels and was powered by a motor”.

Today, he and his high school friend run an electric scooter startup called Voltrium, and they aren’t hitting the brakes anytime soon they plan to reach interstate markets. “I ended up in a sort of happy medium where I still get to work and tinker with motorised vehicles… and occasionally quench my inner child’s dream of piloting highperformance vehicles for a living.”

Leading the Ducklings

As a little girl, Kezia (23) wanted to be a lot of things. “There was a point where I wanted to be a vet,” she remembers. The little girl who had a couple of rescued dogs and a tender heart thought, “it’d be nice to tend to sick animals”.

Through twists and turns, Kezia believes that God’s providence brought her to where she is right now, a place she is truly passionate about. Now she is a teacher, and ‘Kezy’ to her classroom full of waddling little ones.

“My heart for animals is still there, and in fact I talk about animals, their habitat and life cycles a lot with my students,” she says.

So, here’s to all who are hoping, just starting, in the midst, or on their way to fulfil their childhood dreams. Although the world changes so drastically, a kid’s dream is there to stay. And what about this writer, you ask? Well, I always hoped to tell a story that makes people smile. So if you are, dear readers, you just made this little kid’s dream come true.

Fairytale Standards

Laeticia Keiko @lae_kei

Naiyanat Sornratanachai @naiyanatrix

To all my fellow hopeless romantics, love is full of expectations and disappointments. It can be a dream come true, but just remember that all fairytales come with constant ups and downs and plot twists. Are we really ready to experience realistic love?

There is a long history of the world romanticising love. Who doesn’t love LOVE? We’ve been told it’s the solution in every story arc a perfect ending after a long fight. As kids, we watched a prince battle a fire-breathing dragon to save sleeping beauty. A prince desperate to find the mysterious girl at the ball who ghosted him. We watched these suitors put their own lives at risk for the sake of romance. Sure, it’s toxic, but all I learnt was that we all have one true unconditional love our soulmate.

After years of disappointment, my expectations of love have steadily declined. At eight years old, I wanted a prince with a white horse to marry me and fix my life. At sixteen years old, after listening and consoling thousands of heartbreak experiences, my expectations fell down the rabbit hole. When I found someone I finally loved, he exceeded my checklist and more.

And after a while, it reverted back to a series of overpromising and under-delivering.

Summer was the fairytale I hoped for. I finally met someone who made me feel completely, ridiculously happy. He would say all the comforting words and give me the warmest gestures. And for every smile and all the tears, I fell for him harder and harder. We were always there for each other when we had no one else. We laughed over our stupid mistakes together, we cried together at our vulnerable times, we even planned to travel together before we eventually would settle into our white picket fence life. He was my person. I finally felt the unconditional love I grew up watching. It was the happiest happy ever after.

I waited my whole life for that kind of romance the kind that gets all the butterflies running from a single text message and gets us to wonder over a thousand different outfits for a measly coffee date.

At that moment, my expectations were my reality.

Alas, life isn’t a movie. When winter ended, the ‘dream come true’ changed. We couldn’t look after each other. Every day was a fight and every day it was the same mistakes. Our individual lives weren’t blending well with our shared life, as much as we tried. Most days, I just hoped it would go back to the way it was before; hoped the fairytale dream would come back, hoped we wouldn’t call it quits the next day. But of course, staying together was unrealistic.

I was left grieving someone who had opted out of my life, and the end of my childhood version of love. It wasn’t at all like the books and movies. It’s not as simple as swapping tails for feet like The Little Mermaid would have you believe. Rom-com movies tend to cut off the situation and change after the “happy ending”. But I guess sometimes relationships get boring and the excitement wears off. Some people just aren't right together.

It’s a shame real romance is not as good as Hollywood might make it seem. There are really high highs when it feels like a fairytale, and then there are very low lows. Fairytales are fairytales after all. People are not characters made to fit a shared storyline.

The characters in our lives are always changing, and ultimately some people are just meant to be temporary.

If you spent your whole teenage life watching movies with a wedding ceremony ending, you’ll probably think one shot is all you got. Expecting the “one true love” to be the first person we love will just leave us hopeless. As much as we want to believe in the unconditional true love fantasy, modern dating can be a real hit or miss.

But luckily for us, we get more than one chance at romance.

There is someone out there who will be the right person for you, at the right time. Despite all the cruel reality of love, I hope you still have room for a little hope for romance.

Letters of Hope: For Our Sake...

WORDS & PHOTOGRAPHY Lauren Gallina @lauren.gali

The warmer months are approaching; as we put away our puffer jackets and let our bodies breathe again, I want to present us with some ideas for hope and growth moving forward.

During the past few years, one thing has become abundantly clear in Australia there is zero societal importance placed on community. From scientists gatekeeping research to make more money, to our government paying overseas artists to create content here and then fly back home, and to our leaders normalising gaining wealth over the wellbeing of our community. The ideology we have been consuming recently has created a sense of isolation and individualism within our generation. It is difficult to understand what a community should be when protesters and Chris from high school are shouting at us for wanting to keep others safe. Oh, and the people in charge of our futures are taking away basic human rights.

In response to the pride that some people take in not caring about others, I want to underline the most important concept in humanity: community

#1. Create a Community

The need to come together has been the catalyst for civilisation and society across cultures. Archeologists have found evidence in Australia of communities creating shelter from rocks in Madjedbebe over 60,000 years ago. Since humans have been around, we have been coming together to create shelter and share food, knowledge, arts, history and medicine. Collectivist culture honours this heritage, underlining the importance of relationships and sharing resources.

Individualism has come as the consequence of westernised greed. The colonialist ideology to conquer other people whilst acquiring wealth is still embedded in the values of our leaders, and moving forward, must be investigated and dismantled in our generation.

So, my fellow twenty-somethings, please do not forget what community means. Have empathy for those around you and when you are given the opportunity to act as a collective, do, because this is what we need to do in order to heal each other, ourselves, and this world.

#2. Learn to Let Go

I hope our generation can learn to let go of the expectation that we should be the most productive, lucrative, grind-set version of ourselves. Not every passion and hobby should become a side hustle, and not every purchase needs to be justified with how it can make you more successful.

We are living in a time where grind culture is normalised we’re encouraged to spend any free time working towards a goal that is entirely dependent on luck by people with egos and confirmation biases. You are 23, and you don’t have to be famous on TikTok or Etsy to be successful, I promise. Owning land and having stocks is all well and good if that’s your path, but you’re also still figuring it out, so give yourself a minute to do so without comparing yourself to others.

#3. Take a Breather

This draws me to my final point: there is so much time ahead of you. I hope we understand that we can’t expect ourselves to be finished, complete and thriving human beings when we’re juggling so much to simply survive.

Instead of spending those rare and special moments of spare time you have panicking because society is wrongly demanding more of you, take time to read, lay in the sun, watch your favourite shows, go to the movies with your friends, hike, or have dinner with your family. I hope we are able to enjoy this earth and all of its offerings like we deserve to.

You are doing enough, just look how far you have come already. I’m very proud of you and us, and at the end of it all, I hope you are too.

You've Got a Friend in Me

It sounds easy to do, but so many of us fail to give ourselves enough credit for the wonderful things we give others

WORDS Felice Lok @felicee.eee

PHOTOGRAPHY Lauren Gallina @lauren.gali

I have two really good friends who I cherish very much. One will FaceTime me for five hours straight as we talk about the minor inconveniences we experienced that day in immaculate detail.

The other calls me and we talk about career crises and trips to London over the summer holiday. I try to catch up with them often, but when life gets in the way and we don’t see each other for weeks, it feels like I have a gaping hole in my heart. For me, these two are my biggest soulmates. And this piece is dedicated to all the things I hope will come true for them.

For my favourite coffee friend (who I so ‘affectionately’ call Erin to annoy her because baristas always get her name wrong), I hope she can find peace in being who she is. This girl is an absolute bundle of sunshine who, I’m convinced, wakes up every morning with a mission to hype others up. I once listened to this podcast where the host made us pause and consider if we were surrounded by gardeners who were helping us grow and thrive. This friend is that gardener, for me and for everyone she holds dear to her heart. She radiates sunshine, and weeds out the negativity and doubts we have in ourselves. And the cherry on top? She does this gardening unconditionally and with the most sincere desire to see her friends flourish.

But here’s the thing she doesn’t give herself enough credit for this. My biggest hope for her is not only that this love will be reciprocated, but for her to be able to love herself unconditionally.

I want nothing more for her than to be at peace with herself and to know with unwavering confidence that people are grateful she exists. It sounds easy to do, but so many of us fail to give ourselves enough credit for the wonderful things we give others.

I am a firm believer that only when you are content with yourself can you really give life your all.

What I love dearly about our friendship is that we have a running podcast, which takes the form of long-winded iMessage voice recordings made before we jump onto a bus. I sometimes walk into uni with my ears plugged listening to her recordings like a main character whose life is being transformed. She has a stellar memory too, which means that I’m often listening to her talk about things I mentioned in passing three weeks ago that I don’t even remember saying. I’m convinced she was sent to the world to be everyone’s biggest cheerleader (she also does, in fact, sit by the sideline to cheer on her netball friends at their game every Tuesday). I want her to be her own biggest cheerleader too.

Now, for soulmate number two, let me start by explaining the type of person he is. This person may very well be the most stubborn and relentless human to exist. Frankly, his outlook on life still puzzles me sometimes. On one hand, he’ll force feed our entire table of friends to make sure

we don’t leave the restaurant short of feeling explosively full, but then you’ll find him eating one muesli bar while seated in front of his computer and call it a meal for the next five hours. On the odd occasion you’re up till 1am cramming for an exam, he’ll nag you to walk away from your desk and sleep. Yet you’ll find him leaving comments on Google docs at 3am and working hours beyond the weekly standard. We used to joke that the buildings at uni were practically his home because he was often there before sunrise and late into the evening. Now it’s actually not so much of a joke.

For this friend, I don’t worry about needing to hype him up because he knows he’s capable. But I do worry a whole lot about his health. Any conversations about taking care of yourself always end with, “yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine”. Too often I’ve been known as the ‘mum friend’ who’s way too naggy for someone who’s just entered their twenties. But we all know that overworking yourself and bad habits are all harmful maybe we don’t see it now, but it will come back to bite us as we get older (“yes, Mum”, I can hear him say). I respect his hard-working attitude so much, but I wish health would become a higher priority in his life, rather than something he can test the limits with.

And as we head into the final year of our degree next year, I wish nothing more than for him to land his dream job and let the world reward him for his tireless diligence. We used to joke a lot about manifestations because he doesn’t believe in them. But if they truly work, I am manifesting a dream job for him where the past four years of studying and working won’t feel like they were spent in vain. It’s especially times like these, where he’s so busy with uni and work, that I hope he’s doing at least the bare minimum to take care of himself.

If there’s one thing the three of us have in common, it’s that despite how chaotic and difficult life may be at times, we all believe everything will eventually fall into place. I genuinely hope everything will fall into place soon for my dearest friends. And even if it doesn’t, I hope they know they’ll always have a friend in me to bear life’s burdens with them.