I may waste my Friday nights without sobbing but I can’t afford to waste an inch of Sunday. I guess there’s something magical about that 7th day of the week that feels like therapy – a sense of renewal for the mind, body and soul.
On Sundays, everything feels different. You find happiness in the little things, in the way your coffee is brewed, in the way the sun touches your skin, in children giggling downstairs of your apartment.
Many of us are constantly rushing through life despite all the planning and scheduling, and so it has a funny way of making us pause and appreciate all these beautiful moments that we missed out during the week.
But it doesn’t stop here!
Here’s What Sundays Are For And Why I Love Them:
Sundays are for sleeping in late in your favorite pair of pyjamas with no rush of getting up. It doesn’t care about your alarm going off or you snoozing a few extra hours to get some more rest.
Sundays are for having breakfast in bed with the fear of spilling hot coffee on your macbook while reading blog comments, and getting distracted by the pink floral prints on your pj’s.
Sundays are for slow starts. It is the day you spend sitting in your pyjamas at dawn laughing at your own jokes, pretending to beat the night blues until you lay back in bed under the covers, one more time.
Sundays don’t judge. They arrive to remind you to embrace your flaws and that you don’t need to have a hard time accepting your look. You can wear your hair in a ponytail or messy burn, and it will still be worthy. You’re a beautiful mess.
Sundays are the days you fall in love with your messy hair, the way it gently tickles against your face and you shying away to tuck it behind your ears.
It is the day you are totally okay with having bad hair days, so you continue scrolling through your phone to look for your next instagram captions, cause deep down you already know your hair is your crown.
Sundays are therapeutic. Sundays show up to teach you how to vibe on your own and enjoy your own company – cause the inner world will always be our home.
Sundays are for painting your nails, for shaving your legs, for sipping gin rickeys in the bathtub while singing along to 90’s r&b songs even if you get some lyrics wrong, with confidence.
Sundays are for you to dance on your tiptoes in your bathrobe with sheet masks on, shaking off the weight of the past from your shoulders.
On Sundays calories don’t count. They are for indulging in foods that make you feel good, without thinking about “what’s your size?”.
Sundays are for crisps, oreos, candy, whatever suits your fancy while watching netflix or vlogs on youtube and deliberately ignoring the notifications on your phone.
Sundays are the days you stop trying to figure everything out and forget what it means to be an adult. It comes once a week so you can stay curled up on the couch, munching and living in the now moment.
On Sundays you treat yourself. Sundays say, with baking there is a certain nostalgic fix and baking camembert is comforting.
Sundays are for baking out of love to share with your family and friends. It is a good day to savor the chemistry between you and the ingredients that gives life to your soft cheeses, your camembert mademoiselle.
Sundays are for you to breathe. It is the day you count your blessings with gratitude no matter how small or big they are, as you slowly close your eyes to take another bite of cheese and feel the melting on your lips.
That’s Sunday, they smell like fresh roses. They are my most treasured day of the week. There’s always something new to learn and feel each Sunday.