I brought myself here
The great rescue of 2026
This past festive season was a very different one for me. It was my first Christmas as a single person in almost nine years, and it was also my first Christmas withdrawing from my usual festive social activities. I decided to relax and be wrapped up in cotton wool for the most part. Home comforts, reading books and napping were the things I craved to recharge.
On the comedown from a year of drastic change, I was in a bit of a rut. Like many others, I too tend to reevaluate my life at the end of the year. With the time and space to think, I found myself in a sort of turmoil. I think this has been bubbling under the surface all year, and on one specific day it decided to emerge—I felt the tragic fear that I don’t know what the hell I’m doing with my life.
My life is very much an empty page right now. It doesn’t feel exciting like an artist in front of a blank canvas, prepared to create something beautiful. No. Instead, it feels empty and dark. It feels like nothing. As I acknowledge this, I try to think of what I want to fill my empty page with. But that’s my issue. I just don’t know. I look forward and I see more blankness. And this lack of direction has me floating endlessly to nowhere. I want a plan of action, I want a goal. But I can’t just magic one up out of nothing.
Plus, since entering my thirties, I have developed a fear of time. I often feel like I’m running out of time, especially if I compare myself to other people my age. I critically assess the two wrinkles on my face. I have been Googling anti-aging cream for said wrinkles. I have been wondering what my fertility is like. A tumultuous feeling is nested inside my stomach, as I wonder if I’m on the right path, or if my life decisions have been correct so far.
Combine uncertainty with a fear of time, mix that with a dollop of comparison, and you may create an unhinged woman.
But then, an epiphany came. As it often does. I should’ve known…
It was one evening. The Christmas rush had subsided, naps were had, dinner was eaten, and pyjamas were on. I sat with my family, a white wine spritzer in my left hand and a bowl of popcorn on my knee, eyes fixed to the TV. We were ready to watch the monumental 2014 Christopher Nolan film Interstellar [spoiler alert].
Nolan’s Interstellar is a film I have experienced and enjoyed on multiple occasions. Every time I rewatch the film, I discover something new—a theme, a layer, a concept. And this is coming from a girl who doesn’t like sci-fi. In between the beautiful soundtrack, iconic performances and the most ambitious hero’s journey I’ve ever seen, I again managed to find new meaning. This time it wasn’t about science, time or exploration. It was about the human need for survival, and more so how humans actually saved themselves from extinction.
In the climax of the film, Matthew McConaughey’s character Cooper enters the fifth dimension and realises that it wasn’t a new race, species or any form of alien life that saved the human race. Instead, he discovers that the human race in fact saved themselves.
“But they didn’t bring us here at all. We brought ourselves….Don’t you get it? I brought myself here!” - Cooper, Interstellar, 2014.
Watching this scene again made me realise that no-one is coming to rescue me. There is no knight in shining armour, no money to save me or no miracle to be performed. It’s all me.
I don’t need to wait to figure out what my destiny is, because it’s already in my hands. I don’t need a plan, because I will never know it all. I can rescue myself now, like fifth dimension Cooper did.
All I need to do is focus on what fuels me—the smell of my yoga mat, the feel of my fingers typing, the taste of strong coffee, the sound of my loved ones laughing–and I will find my way inside my passions.
So, my plan for 2026? Focus on what I love, look after myself, enjoy life as it is now, and let the solar system take me where I’m meant to go.
You’re reading Quiet Thoughts by me, Emily. This is my collection of personal essays, confessions and stream of conscioussness thoughts. I write mainly about love, mental health and literature. I would love to have you join my little community, so hit subscribe and check out my other pieces, they’re all free.
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"I don’t need a plan, because I will never know it all." Yesss. This is such an important revelation. Wishing you a 2026 full of having your own back, taking yourself into your own destiny!