Cuffing Season Has Entered the Chat 🍂💋

There is a very specific moment every year when the temperature drops below 70 degrees and men everywhere suddenly discover the concept of feelings.

It usually happens around October.

The leaves begin changing. Pumpkin spice returns. The sun starts setting at an offensively early hour. And somewhere, a man who has spent the last six months saying “I’m not looking for anything serious” suddenly texts:

“I miss you.”

Oh?

YOU MISS ME?

Interesting.

Because in July you couldn't even misspell “wyd” correctly.

But now that it's 58 degrees outside, suddenly you have emotional depth?

Welcome to cuffing season.

The annual period when perfectly independent people collectively decide that being single is actually a little too peaceful and perhaps they would like to complicate their lives with another human being.

I couldn't help but wonder:

Do we actually want love, or are we just cold?

Because let's be honest.

Fall has us romanticizing EVERYTHING.

A walk through the park?

Romantic.

A coffee date?

Romantic.

Sharing a blanket?

Basically a wedding.

Someone remembering your coffee order?

Soulmate.

He gives you his hoodie?

Start picking wedding colors.

He says, “Text me when you get home”?

Girl, call your mother. We have found the husband.

And this is where things get dangerous.

Because suddenly the same man who was giving you absolutely NOTHING all summer starts looking different.

Was his personality always this good?

No.

Is he actually more attractive?

Probably not.

Did he simply put on a brown sweater and stand next to a pumpkin?

Yes.

Fall lighting has turned mediocre men into Renaissance paintings.

And I don't think we're talking about this enough.

A man could be emotionally unavailable, chronically late, allergic to communication, and have the texting skills of a Victorian child—and then he puts on a cable-knit sweater and holds a pumpkin?

Suddenly we're like:

“Maybe there's something there.”

There is.

A pumpkin.

That's it.

And then comes the dreaded phenomenon known as The Seasonal Ex.

You know who I'm talking about.

The man who disappears for four months and returns every October like a Macy's Halloween decoration.

“Hey stranger 👀”

Stranger?

Sir.

We were never strangers.

We were two people who made several questionable decisions and then stopped speaking.

Please don't rewrite history because the leaves are orange.

And why does every situationship suddenly become a relationship candidate in October?

July:

“We're just vibing.”

September:

“We're seeing where things go.”

October:

“So what are we?”

November:

“Meet my family.”

December:

“Why did we do this?”

January:

Blocked.

February:

He watches your story.

March:

Character development.

This is not romance.

This is a quarterly business cycle.

And then there's the social media pressure.

You open Instagram and suddenly EVERYONE has somebody.

One girl is posting her boyfriend at a pumpkin patch.

Another is doing the “my favorite person” trend.

Someone is soft-launching a man's forearm.

A FOREARM.

We don't even know his face.

But apparently we're supposed to care.

And you're sitting there in bed, eating a seasonal snack, watching couples take professional-looking photos in front of a pile of pumpkins thinking:

“Am I behind in life?”

No, babe.

You are simply not participating in the Annual Boyfriend Acquisition Program.

There is no deadline.

There is no registration.

There is no FAFSA application for men.

And frankly, some of us need to stop treating relationships like fall accessories.

You wouldn't buy a pair of shoes just because everyone else has them.

Well...

Actually, I might.

But that's beside the point.

The problem with cuffing season is that sometimes we don't actually want the person.

We want the feeling.

We want someone to call at night.

Someone to send memes to.

Someone to watch movies with.

Someone to wear matching pajamas with while pretending we're the main characters in a Nancy Meyers film.

And that's completely human.

But wanting companionship doesn't mean you need to grab the nearest emotionally available-looking person and slap a relationship label on him before Thanksgiving.

Because here's the thing:

Being cold is temporary.

A bad boyfriend can be a seasonal disaster.

And nobody wants to spend December explaining to their friends why they're crying over a man whose entire contribution to the relationship was a hoodie and three Spotify playlists.

So perhaps this fall, instead of asking:

“Who am I going to cuff?”

Maybe we should ask:

“Who actually deserves access to me?”

Because not every man who texts you when the temperature drops deserves a key to your heart.

Some of them deserve to remain exactly where they were all summer:

In the drafts.

And if someone wonderful does come along?

Great.

Go on the coffee dates.

Go to the pumpkin patch.

Wear the cute outfit.

Let him buy you hot chocolate.

Take the ridiculously adorable pictures.

Fall in love if it feels right.

Just remember that the goal isn't to be cuffed.

The goal is to be happy.

Because cuffing season eventually ends.

The leaves fall.

The pumpkins rot.

The Christmas music begins playing before Halloween has even had time to recover.

And eventually, January arrives.

Suddenly it's freezing.

The relationship isn't cute anymore.

And you're sitting there staring at your boyfriend thinking:

“Why did I let a man with a fleece jacket change my entire life?”

I couldn't help but wonder:

Maybe the real fall glow-up isn't finding someone to cuff.

Maybe it's realizing you don't have to.

Because if he only wants you when it's sweater weather...

he can stay outside.

XOXO,
Mimi Chanel 🍂💋

College, Chaos & the Art of Being Young

Being in college is basically reliving senior year of high school over and over again except now there are bills, questionable financial decisions, and absolutely nobody reminding you that your assignment is due at 11:59 PM.

Because really, what is college if not a very expensive group project where everyone is secretly wondering, “Do I actually know what I’m doing?”

We’re all trying to figure out where we belong. Who we are. What we want. Who we want around us. And somehow, while we’re figuring ourselves out, we’re also expected to learn finances, time management, relationships, boundaries, self-love, career goals, grocery shopping, laundry, and how to respond to an email professionally without sounding like a hostage.

And I couldn’t help but wonder: if these are the things we actually need to know to survive adulthood, why weren’t they teaching us this in high school?

But apparently, algebra was more important.

I mean, I’m sure knowing how to solve for X has saved somebody somewhere. I just haven’t met them yet.

College is an emotional rollercoaster. One minute, you’re walking across campus feeling like the main character because you got dressed, made it to class on time, and remembered your water bottle. The next, one slightly disappointing grade has you staring at the ceiling like your entire future has been cancelled.

I’ve been there.

And honestly? I’m still there.

Because becoming a young adult doesn’t magically make you feel like an adult. If anything, it’s more like being handed the keys to a car while someone says, “Good luck!” and drives away.

Older adults somehow want you to have the responsibility of a 35-year-old but the experience of one too. You're “grown” when they need you to handle something, but suddenly you're “just a kid” when you have an opinion.

Make it make sense.

But somewhere between the stress, the deadlines, the existential crises, and wondering if checking your bank account is considered self-care, there is something incredibly beautiful happening.

We’re living.

We’re going out with our friends just because we can. We’re getting food at ridiculous hours. We’re sitting in parking lots talking about everything and absolutely nothing. We’re taking spontaneous little trips, dressing up for no reason, getting iced matcha like it’s a personality trait, laughing until our stomachs hurt, and staying out way later than we probably should when we have an 8:00 AM class the next morning.

And somehow, at 7:47 AM, we're walking into class looking like we just survived a war.

But those are the memories.

The late-night conversations. The random adventures. The friendships that feel like family. The embarrassing decisions that will eventually become hilarious stories. The nights where nobody wants to go home because we're having too much fun.

Maybe college isn't supposed to be the time when we have everything figured out.

Maybe it's the time when we're supposed to not have it figured out.

We're learning how to love people, how to let people go, how to love ourselves, how to fail without completely falling apart, and how to get back up when we do.

So yes, college can be stressful. Yes, adulthood is confusing. Yes, sometimes I would like to return my responsibilities to the nearest customer service desk.

But we're young.

And there's something so special about being young enough to still be figuring yourself out while being old enough to start creating a life that actually feels like yours.

So go out.

Make the memories.

Say yes to the random plans.

Take the pictures.

Stay up too late talking to your friends.

Go to class exhausted the next morning and question every decision that brought you there.

Because one day, we'll look back at this chaotic little chapter and realize that maybe we weren't lost at all.

Maybe we were just becoming.

And honestly?

I think that's a pretty beautiful thing to be.

MIMI'S WEEKLY

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