
The semester hasn’t even fully started, and we have already had two snow days. And even though class has been cancelled, those assignments are still due and somehow my brain has been more focused on my 2K overall than all those unread emails. But maybe that’s okay, because sometimes, romanticizing your life is free therapy.
Romanticizing your life doesn’t mean ignoring the chaos but rather pretending the chaos is entertaining. Like having two snow days before a proper start of the semester yet still being expected to complete assignments. The world hasn’t slowed down but you can choose to narrate it with comedy instead of tragedy.
So how would you romanticize your life without feeling like you are falling behind?
Welcome to Chill Pill, a biweekly column every Wednesday about slowing down in a world that rarely lets us do so as college students. Here, we will talk about balance, burnout and the small things that can make college life feel a little less overwhelming.
Start small and start slow. Rather than trying to survive day by day, what if you start to incorporate intentionality within everyday activities? For me, romanticizing life means being more present in everyday moments — it’s about appreciating and acknowledging the small and the simple. It’s not about the aesthetic, but rather a slight change in perspective, a way of looking at life that makes it more enjoyable. Romanticization helps us to practice mindfulness with a little bit of gratitude.
We only get one life, but being a college student means we often have to do things that we really don’t want to do. We can either let life happen to us or make something beautiful of it.

Now a common confusion is the difference between pretending and presence. Romanticizing does not mean forcing an illusion of perfection. It doesn’t mean that you free fall through the semester pretending that your problems do not exist.
The real magic is in presence.
It’s in noticing. Life isn’t about making everything beautiful, but it’s about taking the time to see that the beauty is already there, even in the mess and in-between moments.
For example, the way your dorm smells after you spray it with your favorite air freshener. The way you accidentally start walking to the beat of your music on your way to class. The way your reflection off the Rec windows catches you off guard, and you realize — just for a split second — you like the fit you threw on today.
What I just described is real. That is what makes your life romantic without trying to make it perfect. You don’t have to make your life look romantic for it to feel romantic. No need for the handwritten letters sealed with wax staples or the vintage cameras (unless that’s your thing; then more power to you). All you really need is awareness. A willingness to be exactly where you are, fully, without needing to be somewhere or being doing something else. When you start to notice what is already good — letting the small moments matter — you might realize your life doesn’t need to be perfect or aesthetic to be something worth falling in love with.
The best parts of life are not the ones we plan for, but the ones that we slow down enough to see.
