The concept of escapism.

In my early 20s, escapism looked like late nights, glittery eyeshadow, vodka with ice, bad decisions, and dancing until my shoes gave out. I loved it, probably a little too much. I’d romanticize those neon-lit hours where nothing mattered except the music and whoever you were clumsily making eye contact with across the room. Then I got into my first real relationship, and surprise, we both loved the nightlife. It became our thing. Our escape. Our reckless little corner of freedom from the “real world.”

And honestly? Those were some of the best times of my life.

But I think the version of escapism we crave evolves as we do. I’ve outgrown the hangovers, but I still chase that feeling, freedom, disconnection, presence. Just… now it looks a little different.

Now it’s relaxing with a good book and letting someone else’s story carry me away. It’s listening to a podcast that actually makes me think (or laugh at something completely unhinged Theo Von says). It’s long drives to the beach with Blink-182 or Charli XCX blasting, windows down, mind quiet. It’s laying on the couch on a Sunday afternoon, watching the light shift across the room, and letting that be enough.

Escapism isn’t about avoidance, it’s about release. And the healthier it becomes, the more grounded we feel coming back to ourselves.

Here are 2 ways I’ve found that actually help when life gets too loud:

1. Creative expression.
Write something. Paint something. Doodle like you’re 10 again. It doesn’t have to be good, honestly, it probably shouldn’t be. Just let your brain play. There’s something magical about making something that doesn’t need to mean anything.

2. Intentional silence.
Put your phone away. Don’t even reach for it. Go sit outside. Take a walk. Lay on your bed with a cup of tea and stare at the ceiling. Silence is awkward at first, but it teaches you how to just be. And that’s a skill a lot of us forgot we needed.

Because sometimes escaping isn’t about running away, it’s about running toward yourself.