t w e n t y f i v e

Anna Myers | WRITING

24 was fun.

I broke two ribs! Read a lot of books! Ate more meals than I skipped, sang out-of-tune songs in bed with Fab, had sunday rituals with myself and heard the words ‘You’re doing good’ for the first time in a while.

It was more work and less sleep than I thought I could get used to, but also -not as hard as I’m used to. I didn’t break, I didn’t heal. I didn't —lose— myself. I stopped trying to —find— myself.

24 started with Helena and Kristi surprising me with tiramisu & balloons and ended with me surprising even myself, because holy hell, there’s a lot of stuff I could have fucked up by now and somehow still haven’t.

Sometimes not for lack of trying, but I guess there’s poetry in that, too. Just like there’s poetry in scary nights, and messy parts, and crying with your head in the toilet on the morning of your twentyfifth birthday, because it all works out in the end but that’s never going to be what’s interesting, so.

I made a wish. I’ve had leftover cake every day for a week. Life is fine. Fine, I tell you.

some things for the new year

Anna Myers | WRITING

Your gut instinct is almost always right. Oil on toast is not dinner. Stop making excuses for people who gratuitously & continuously hurt you. Water the fucking plants. Support your friends’ art. It's okay to struggle: that's probably what makes this whole thing worth it. Learn your favorite songs on the piano even though you’re not a virtuoso. Drink more wine, less tequila. Drink more tequila, less coffee. You're allowed to change your mind. Take more baths. Stop saving the nice candles for special occasions. Unfollow Kendall Jenner on instagram. Your mom is probably right, just accept that. Realize there’s a difference between eating an entire cake at 3AM and getting a second serving of the same cake at 10PM: one will make your stomach hate you, the other will make you very happy. Go to the cinema by yourself. Call your grandmother more. It’s okay to want what you want. It’s okay stop wanting what you don’t want. Send thank you notes. Get over your fucking self and stop sending emails two minutes before deadline. Try not to pop a coronary every time you open twitter -you really can’t live like that for the next three years. Never go months without listening to your favorite One Direction album again, that shit is happiness in a bottle and you know it. Take more bad pictures, take more good pictures. Fuck the bullshit you don’t wanna deal with anymore, just fuck the bullshit. Fuck the fucking bullshit. Delete those numbers off your phone. Listen to your body. Accept that some days you won’t have the energy to leave your bed, and that doesn’t make you any less of a good person. Eat more pasta. Wear your red boots more. Surround yourself with people who make you feel good, not people who make you want to cry.


Keep showing up. Keep coming up with reasons to keep trying.


Forget your new year's resolutions on the first of january, do whatever the hell you want. 


Treat people, but especially yourself, with motherfucking kindness.


Happy 2018, baby.


Anti-Bucket List '16


This post first appeared on She Did What She Wanted.


I’ve decided I’m not gonna write a bucket list for 2016, because if there’s something I’ve learned is that they always end up ruining my expectations and start making me feel guilty 5 days into January, which really, really isn’t a good way to start anything.


Enter the anti-bucket list. It first appeared in this month’s Glamour UK issue, but I read about it on Girl lost in the city, a blog by the wonderful Emma Gannon, and when I did, all I could think was yes. YES. 


Because why shouldn’t we reflect on all those little (and not so little) steps that we’ve managed to take, instead of forgetting about it as soon as the clock rings the new year? So that we can start feeling terrible about not keeping that lethal ‘will go to the gym’ resolution? Yeah, no thanks. 


I’d rather focus on the good bits a little longer, because it’s been a hard year and I think we all deserve to acknowledge our efforts a little bit more. Blow our own trumpets a little more often, be our very own cheerleaders and all of that. 


Maybe that should be our new year’s resolution.





  • I graduated from drama school! After a lifetime of dreaming I could be an actress, I can finally call myself one!

  • I watched my graduation movies on a cinema screen. At BAFTA. Woah. 

  • I started writing again, which took more courage than I ever thought I could muster but made me the very happiest, so. A big yes to this one.

  • I rewatched all six seasons of Sex and the City, because if there’s something a girl needs at 21 is some good old Carrie Bradshaw in her life.

  • I let go of more fears and demons than I could have possibly dreamed of, and let myself enjoy my very first serious relationship. Yay for letting ourselves feel things, wholeheartedly and unapologetically.

  • I moved in with my very first serious boyfriend. 

  • I moved out of the house I shared with said boyfriend.

  • I learned to fall in love with myself again.

  • I surprised my best friend of 20 years by showing up at her birthday party in Milan when she thought I would be in London. She cried tears of happiness, and it was a very good day.

  • I started having wine and cookies for dinner whenever I felt like it, and it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. 

  • I got an agent. An actual acting agent. All by myself. Woah.

  • I rode a horse! Four times! It was terrifying! I still have nightmares about it!

  • I went to see One Direction at the O2, and Harry wore glittery golden boots and we cried and laughed and danced and it was everything we could have hoped for. 

  • I went months without wearing foundation. The last time I did that I was 13, so… big achievement. 

  • I read more Bukowski. 

  • I started working out again for the first time in a long time, and eating healthily for the first time in forever, which shocked my body into losing fat and gaining muscle super fast. For a while, I experienced looking the best I’ve ever looked. 

  • I watched all four seasons of Scandal in less than two weeks. No regrets.

  • There was one time I danced all night, had pancakes at 5 AM, slept overlooking Canary Wharf and felt infinite. It was a good time.

  • I booked myself & the boyfriend a surprise trip to Italy. We went to the seaside and ate our body weight in pizza and got really really tan. Yes.

  • I discovered and fell in love with Amy Schumer. One time I laughed so hard I inhaled my tea and almost choked to death. But really, I don’t hold it against her, we’re okay.

  • I burned my entire face due to my stubborn (stupid) refusal to put on sunscreen anywhere other than under my eyes. Looked like a weird red and white koala for a while. Learned my lesson.

  • I got my very first acting gigs! I was in a Durex commercial! It was hilarious!

  • I flew business class for the very first time and felt like one hell of a classy lady. Got lost on my way out of the airport to balance it up, I guess.

  • I saw Taylor Swift at BST with Nic and Jess!! Cried my eyes out!! Danced for hours!!! Yes!!!

  • I fainted and hit my head on the bathtub, which meant I had to go to the hospital and be very scared for a while, but also lead to me taking more care of myself. Yay for self-care.

  • I got drunk by myself and broke into a very loud performance of Perfect at midnight on the Millennium Bridge, wearing the silliest, widest grin on my face. Harry Styles makes me happy, what can I say.



From me, to me, for the new year: you’re doing good, really, stop freaking out. Love you loads, always.