I Love My ‘Toxic’ Habits

They say self-improvement is the key to happiness, but what if I’m perfectly content with my so-called ‘bad’ habits?

When I think about some of the traits that define me, they aren’t exactly what you’d call conventionally admirable. In fact, they’d probably land me on someone’s ‘red flag’ list.

• I can’t fall asleep without a cartoon playing in the background.

• I start my mornings with three espressos and a Vyvanse.

• I will always, without fail, have a packet of cigarettes on me.

• I had a tattoo removed at 19 - one I got impulsively and regretted almost immediately.

• I wash my hair once a week, at most.

• I eat pasta at least once a day, sometimes twice.

• I very rarely exercise, and when I do, I spend most of my time thinking about how quickly I can leave.

Last night, as I pressed play on yet another episode of Family Guy to lull myself to sleep, it dawned on me just how ‘unattractive’ my bedtime routine might seem to an outsider. You’d think that by now, I’d have matured enough to opt for a podcast or an audiobook - something that at least pretends to be enriching. But no, for the past five years, my Disney+ subscription has been my lifeline for sleep, and I have absolutely no shame in that.

Well, maybe a little shame.

At dinner last year, I shared my ‘ick list’ with some new friends. My list, which could be perceived as brutal, is simply a visual representation of my standards. We all laughed as we went around the table, but then one girl chimed in with, “I stopped dating a guy once because he watched Family Guy.”

Ouch. That was a harsh reality check.

I laughed it off and, in a moment of true self-exposure, admitted, “He’s just like me.” The room laughed, but I sat with the thought longer than I should have. Are my defining traits actually considered ‘icky’? Is my routine, my little collection of habits, repelling people in ways I don’t even realise?

In the age of influencers, we are drowning in ‘Day in My Life’ videos that paint a picture of perfect self-discipline: the sleek, slicked-back buns, the colour-coordinated kitchens, the daily ritual of green powders mixed into filtered tap water, and the inevitable shot of a reformer pilates class. These women appear effortlessly put together, their lives neatly edited to fit into a 60-second montage of quiet luxury and aspirational wellness. But the more I see, the more I wonder: what happens when the camera stops rolling?

Maybe my skepticism is rooted in my own insecurities, but I can’t help but envision those same girls with chaotic drawers stuffed behind their pristine wardrobe doors. I picture half-folded laundry sitting untouched on their floor. Maybe, just maybe, they have a rogue Family Guy episode in their ‘Continue Watching’ queue.

With our social feeds oversaturated with daily ‘vlogging,’ I wonder if our perception of a ‘realistic’ day is starting to warp. Have we collectively rewritten what a normal routine looks like? And in doing so, have we convinced ourselves that anything short of perfection is a failure?

Last Saturday, I woke up with a crushing hangover and had to forcibly remind myself that this is normal. I am 24 years old. I am supposed to have a late Friday night every now and again. There is no moral failing in spending my Saturday buried under my duvet, scrolling aimlessly through TikTok, and surviving on carbs and iced coffee.

Maybe my habits are ‘toxic.’ Maybe they aren’t. But they’re mine, and right now, I love them.

And with that, I think I’ll go smoke a vogue xoxo