I'm absolutely fine but I slightly need to pee, I followed the road less travelled and now I don't know where the hell I am, I may bleed to death shaving my legs, I just ate the fridge, my soul aches, ducking hell, my sock is slipping off inside my shoe, another week has ended without me becoming accidentally rich, I just put my keys in the fridge, my jeans hate me, unexpected object in the bagging area, I haven't slept since 2012, I've got road rage, I'll have a cafe mocha vodka valium latte to go please, where's my phone? My anxieties have anxieties, no... not like that - here, I'll do it, do I have to do everything? WTF?
Is it just me? We gnaw on that, don't we? Is it just me? Well, look around. Look at the egg-freezing, the brain freezing, the soul freezing, the terror, the Tinder, the rage, the resolution, the 'hear me roar', the panic, the power, the regret, the chin hairs, the hyper-connectedness, the divorce, the shame, the empathy, the conversation, the sheer potential. Welcome to Midulthood: a place where we recognise that we are all more alike than we are unalike. Of course it's not just you. If we're not in it together, we're not in it at all...
Annabel Rivkin and Emilie McMeekan founded The Midult in 2016. They are journalists, worriers and incredibly good friends. Annabel has written for everybody from The Times to Vogue, while Emilie has been Features Editor of the Evening Standard and Deputy Editor of Tatler. Together they write a Midult column in the Saturday Telegraph Magazine and Annabel has a column in the Evening Standard's ES Magazine. Emilie is sunshine, Annabel is brimstone and together they wrote this book, lying on the floor a lot and stroking their beards.