WE’RE HEALTHIER THAN EVER. BUT ARE WE HAVING FUN?

In 2026, everybody is incredibly healthy.

Everyone has a morning routine. Everyone is tracking something. Their sleep, their steps, their water, their hormones, i don’t know.

People are waking up at 6 a.m., dry brushing, taking 17 supplements, going on little mental health walks, and being in bed by 10:14 p.m. And honestly? Good for them.

I love that for us. Truly, I do understand it. People want to feel good. People want more energy. People want clear skin and stable moods and functioning digestive systems. People want to stop losing their entire Sunday because they had four moscow mules, one espresso martini, and the terrible idea to text someone who should have remained a memory.

I get it.

But I do have a question.

Are we… still having fun?

Because somewhere between wellness culture, soft life and whatever else the internet is currently calling “taking care of yourself,” it feels like being a little bit irresponsible has become deeply uncool.

Not dangerous. Not destructive. Just regular, harmless, slightly chaotic fun.

And before anybody starts, I am not saying alcohol is good for you!!!! (Obviously) Nothing about a hangover has ever felt healthy. I am also not saying everybody needs to start partying every weekend.

I’m just saying there’s a weird vibe now where staying home has become morally superior.

Like if you say, “No thanks, I’m staying in tonight,” people act like you’ve reached enlightenment.

And to be fair, sometimes staying in is amazing.

Actually, no - a lot of the time, staying in is amazing.

There are few pleasures in this life greater than being freshly showered, moisturised, in oversized pyjamas, horizontal on your couch, while everyone else is posting blurry Instagram stories from some loud bar where you just know the cocktails are overpriced and the bathroom line is ridiculous.

That feeling? Elite!!!

In those moments, I don’t just feel relaxed. I feel better than everyone.

Like wow. Look at me. Protecting my peace. Growing as a person.

But then the next weekend comes. And suddenly someone texts, “Just one drink?”

Which is, of course, one of the biggest lies ever told. Then somebody else says, “Everyone’s going to be there.”

And now I’m interested.

Because the truth is, as much as I love staying home, I also love going out. I really do. I love getting dressed. I love doing my makeup with inappropriate levels of optimism. I love standing in front of my mirror thinking, yes, actually, tonight could change my life. Will it? Probably not.

But could it? Technically yes.

And that possibility is part of the fun.

I’ve always had horrible hangovers. Like, disrespectful ones. The kind that make you feel as if your body is punishing you for crimes against humanity. I used to lose entire Sundays. Sometimes Mondays too. Meanwhile, some of my friends would drink exactly the same amount, sleep for four hours, and show up to brunch looking dewy and emotionally available. I have never related to those people.

So naturally, I tried to become one of the responsible girls.

You know the type. Home at a decent hour. Removes makeup before bed. Wakes up the next morning and goes for a walk as if nothing happened.

Now I do this thing where I have two drinks, alternate with water, and retain just enough dignity to function the next day. It’s growth. It’s balance. It’s beautiful.

And to be honest? I’ve actually gotten better at it.

But I still don’t think the answer is to stop going out altogether.

Because there is a feeling that comes with a night out that your living room simply cannot provide.

The outfit. The anticipation. The group chat logistics. The first drink. The “wait, who’s here?” The sudden decision to go somewhere else. The walk into the next place like your night has plot. The tiny belief that absolutely anything could happen.

That feeling is real. And I think we still need it!!!

I think we still need nights that are a little random. A little unnecessary. A little blurry and hard to explain the next morning

Not every good thing in life has to be productive.

That, I think, is my issue with this era of hyper-wellness. It’s not that people are healthier. That part is great. It’s that health has started to feel like a personality, and fun has started to feel like a character flaw.

As if the highest version of ourselves is the one that always says no.

No to drinking. No to late nights. No to spontaneity. No to anything that might inconvenience tomorrow’s to-do list.

And maybe that works for some people. Genuinely.

But I also think there’s a difference between protecting your peace and becoming unavailable to life.

Because some of the best nights are the ones you almost didn’t go to.

The nights when you were fully moisturised, fully committed to staying home, already in bed, and then somebody says, “Please i’m begging youuuu,” and suddenly you’re outside in a tiny bag and an outfit held together by confidence.

Those are the nights with stories.

And I’m sorry, but the best stories rarely begin with, “So I had my tea and went to bed at 9:45.”

No. Great stories begin with bad decisions in a polly pocket skirt.

They begin with “I wasn’t even supposed to be there.” With “We were only meant to stay for one.” With “Why was that man doing that?” With “At some point, we all started singing.” With “I got home at sunrise and still don’t fully understand how.”

And no, going out does not have to mean getting black-out drunk or kissing someone strange or making choices that require a debrief, a prayer, and a energy cleanse.

Sometimes going out is just about being with your friends.

That’s the part I think gets lost.

These days, nightlife gets talked about like it only exists for two reasons: to get drunk or to find someone. But what about going out because you’re bored? Because your week was annoying? Because you want to dance? Because you want to wear a top that can’t really be justified in daylight? 

That should be enough.

Actually, that is enough!!!

I also think we’ve become weirdly obsessed with choosing sides.

Like: If I’m fit, I can’t drink. If I’m healthy, I can’t dance until 3 a.m. If I care about my sleep, I have to become a monk. If I go out every weekend, I must be unhealed.

Who made these rules?

Why does everything have to be a full identity?

Why can’t a girl have electrolytes and a nightlife?

Why can’t I protect my peace and wear a tiny top on Saturday?

Why can’t I care about gut health and also want one dramatic evening a week?

Because taking care of yourself is important.

But so is feeling alive.

And for me, very few things make me feel more alive than dancing with my friends.

Not elegant dancing, by the way. I mean the kind of dancing that’s mostly jumping. The kind where everyone is screaming the lyrics, hugging each other, spilling things slightly, and pretending not to notice that one friend is suddenly very emotional because that one song came on and apparently she is still not over him, which, to be fair, none of us believed when she said she was.

Those nights matter.

And I just don’t think wellness should require us to become boring.

I don’t think a good life is one long sequence of perfect choices.

I think a good life should have room for routines and randomness. For discipline and delight. For green juice and one ridiculous Saturday. For staying in when you need rest and going out when you need to remember that the world is bigger than your apartment, your inbox, and your screen time report.

Because yes, nobody is going to remember the week you perfectly hit your macros.

But they will remember the night you almost didn’t come out.