Lifestyle blog writing
Nobody Cares delivers relatable lifestyle and personal articles to a growing readership of subscribers.
Written from a place of freedom – inspired by the realisation that other people aren’t thinking about us nearly as much as we too often worry they are – every piece is written in a conversational, comfortable tone.
I curated the brand in August 2024 and devise, write and publish everything. A selection of articles are linked below:
I like to be liked like that
Don’t you?
It feels good to be liked. I think you’d be hard pushed to find someone that doesn’t feel a little surge of happiness course through them when someone says they like them, or likes what they do, or presses ‘like’ on their social media post, or likes how they look, or… likes how they write (oh my). Even if they push the feeling down, hold it tightly out of sight, perhaps acting blasé in response to the compliment - it’s there.
I think we yearn to be liked. It gives us validation. We’re scared of the opposite.
The desire goes right back to the playground at infant school, although the societal consequences didn’t weigh as heavily then. When people liked playing with me, it felt good. It didn’t matter if other children lacked hopscotch companions, for I had mine.
Why does running feel like a competition?
A ramble from a slow runner
I’m 28 and I try to run a few times every week. No surprises there. The number of people running has drastically increased in recent years, and according to Strava, it’s those aged 18-29 that are leading the trend.
We’re realising how nice it is to exercise both our body and our brain AND be submerged in fresh air. We say annoying things like: “The weather is perfect, you should get out there while you can” (when a glimmer of sunshine is balanced with a cooling breeze), or “I didn’t want to do it today but I’m so glad I did” and “My legs are going to feel that tomorrow”. We’d be positively unrecognisable to our former selves that started a night out at 9pm.
Read full piece here
We don’t talk anymore
The natural but ever-painful fade of friendships
We never wanted it to change. So, we held each other’s hands firmly, unaware we were clinging onto something that likely wouldn’t last forever.
All of sudden, months - even years - pass by in the blink of an eye, and messages are sent with an eerie sense of hesitation, fingers hovering shakily over the keyboard. The sporadic, natural, effortless nature of the friendship has diminished into seven re-reads of a message suggesting a catch up. The nerves engulf everything as the ‘send’ button is pressed. It feels ridiculous to worry that the outreach could be interpreted as awkward, let alone the catch up itself (remember what we used to be?!), but still, the anguish looms.
Read full piece here
I lost everything I owned and realised it didn’t matter
How I mourned the loss of my home
People love a declutter. Or rather, people love the result of a declutter; it’s good for the mind. And thanks to social media, I’m constantly fed people’s accomplishments in this field, neatly displayed in ‘before and after’ shots, while I wistfully swipe through and ignore the very real pile of laundry falling out of its bag next to me.
To lessen the burden, people go mad for Mrs Hinch’s unique organisation hacks while Marie Kondo asks whether an item brings us joy to determine if it’s for the bin or for the win. We get attached to things, simple as that, so decluttering is both painful and time-consuming. It’s often the task begun with gumption and finished with hatred.
Read full piece here
It’s crazy that I’m here
Finding content in the rarity of us all… being
I’m writing this on the train, which is probably where a lot of my inspiration will present itself over the coming weeks and months. It’s not as cold as I was expecting, however that does make my decision to travel in a delightfully warm new fleece somewhat of a mistake that I don’t want to admit to my partner who couldn’t understand why I simply needed to purchase another fleece for our minimalistic one-backpack travels.
There’s a large M&S bag at my feet, filled with now predominantly empty wrappers; the remnants of our boujee British picnic style lunch. And to channel the infamous M&S adverts, this isn’t just any Eurostar train from London St Pancras to Amsterdam Centraal - it’s the first of many trains to come as I embark on an exciting adventure around
Europe.
I quit and realised nobody cares
On prioritising myself (and finding the name for my Substack)
A few months ago, my partner and I quit our jobs to take a break and see some of the world. To save repetition or more incessant rambling on the circumstances that led here, I’m going to shamelessly link my first article or suggest reading the ‘About’ section of my Substack. Or for an even easier shortcut, see here: our home burnt down.
We’re kicking off some exciting travels tomorrow, so it felt right to reflect on the leap we took to make this possible and address how it felt to pack everything in at the age of 28. On the eve of our first flight, it’s feeling very real now (I’m currently sitting in an airport hotel registering just how well we made lemonade out of lemons - and then some).
Read full piece here
Spring: the good, the bad, the pollen
Like an Instagram photo dump, but better (because it’s Substack and it’s words)
It’s that time again.
Winter is officially behind us and spring is knocking, ready to emerge from the wings and steal the show.
This seasonal change brings an essence of joy that’s often romanticised (especially by us on Substack), but sometimes it’s fun to strip back the romance and appreciate things, like spring, for what they truly are.
Read full piece here
I’m over the drama
As I get older, I’m all for an easy life
You know the kind of drama someone spills that’s so undeniably entertaining it makes you want to run to the nearest cinema, grab a mixed sweet and salt popcorn (the perfect resolution for indecisive souls), and recline back to enjoy the show? It could be anything from a friend regaling an annoyance with their boyfriend to someone revealing what really happened at the work Christmas party three years ago. Regardless of the content, you can blissfully enjoy the dramatic dialogue from the security of your seat, safe in the knowledge that you’ll never be sucked out of the seat and into said drama. It doesn’t involve you; it’s already happened.
That is still very much a thing. Of course it is. But as I’ve gotten older, what is becoming less of an OK-thing is drama that even remotely involves me. Put simply, I just can’t be bothered with it.
Read full piece here