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Quite a lot of new faces and friends here this week, hello hello!!

Which, is perhaps not my best moment to interrupt the regular format of this newsletter but alas, it's my birthday week and I always like to shake things up when it’s my birthday.


My regular essay format will be back in two weeks but in the meantime, you can always chew on letters from my archive or check out the personal essay I just wrote for Dear Damsels. 


Thank you for being here and please do say hello, I’d love to connect with you :)


Onto it...


I spend a lot of time thinking — and talking — about what I don’t know. There is so much I don’t know. I am fascinated by the moment — or the slow sliding into a moment, of which you come to know. By the trail of falsity left behind by the discovery of truth. By, how the act of figuring things out means we have a past of wrongs; a well of all that is expired. 


That is the landmine of which this newsletter sits beneath. The fallibility of memory but also the malleability of it. 


And it is beautiful and devastating.


And it is restorative and humbling.


The impermanence, that is. 


So here, right now, for a gentle respite on the cusp of 25, I want to celebrate what I do know. Some things that I will inevitably come to un-know, to write over — by the discovery of newer information, by the inklings I carry forward from my memory to mould into folklore. Truths that will eventually come to pass, but that once were.


Because it’s important to celebrate where you are in this moment — as un-fully-formed as you may feel. It’s a helpful practice not ascribing your life as something that happens somewhere in the future. What you know and who you are right now is as valid as any future you and any future truths you arrive into.




This is everything I know about love (& other stuff) at 25:

(Sorry in advance, mum.)


  • Love doesn’t die. I used to think it was embarrassing to look back over my past and have a fondness for ex-loves rather than cursing the day they were born. Not to say my friends wouldn’t throw a few punches on my behalf, but I realise, love — actual love, doesn’t expire even if the relationship does.
  • It’s generally a bad idea to sleep with someone who chooses not to vote. And I say ‘choose’ because claiming you don’t know enough to make an informed decision or simply deciding you would rather do something — anything — other than nip to the polling station, well, that my friends, is a choice. If you cannot walk your ass to the ballot box, you cannot climb into my bed.
  • The top three moments you are most likely to be overcome with missing someone are… a) when you are sick, b) when your plane is about to take off and c) when you discover the calibre of men available on dating apps.
  • Losing someone is not just over and done with in one fell swoop. You have to grieve them with every new season. The sun might be shining and you might feel fine but then the leaves start to fall and warming up with homemade ramen will feel like a punch in the gut. 
  • You can’t give another person their worth. That is something they have to come into themselves. Equally, you can’t dislodge your own trying to accommodate for their insecurity. 
  • It’s very annoying when hotness is wasted on Tories.
  • 29-year-olds are no less ready than 25-year-olds. In fact, it’s probably a bad idea to date anyone who is going through their Saturn return.
  • Body hair is not a good enough reason to deny yourself pleasure with another person. This is not GCSE P.E. where one single leg hair is akin to committing treason. (Here’s to full bush summer).
  • If you’re going to cry, cry in Paris
  • Phone sex, if done properly, can feel like real sex.
  • From the little solo travelling I have done: you can’t immediately acclimatise to a place you’re not yet grounded to. Breathe, sleep and the panic will have most likely wavered by the time the sun rises on your second day — which is advice that can be applicable to most scenarios. 
  • A note to my future self who forgets this every six months: eye shadow is not for me. Move on.
  • I probably won’t meet the love of my life by bumping into them in a bookshop or catching their eye on a train but it’s sure fun to pretend I might.
  • Always ask the person you’re renting a room from if they have a small child. You can’t assume such information will always be disclosed before it’s too late and you’re waking up to screaming in the middle of the night and there will be a rising ringing in your ear that laughs: I am a sucker.
  • Some things are sad in the moment and some things are sad forever (I stole this one from Cheryl Strayed). 
  • The bad news is: you won't ever feel anything as intensely as you did at seventeen. The good news is: you won't ever feel anything as intensely as you did at seventeen. 
  • It's never too late to fall in love with things. I didn't start reading, really, until I was 21. Now I have to impose upon myself a monthly book budget. Try new things — it's the closest you'll get to living multiple lives. 
  • If you're going to be heartbroken, be heartbroken in Bali. 
  • Send the text but — and I cannot stress this enough — before you drink the wine.


  • I got unbelievably lucky to end up with a pool of friends who are wholeheartedly, my soulmates. 



As always, I love to hear from you. If you liked today’s newsletter, want to carry on the conversation or have any thoughts or feedback at all, do hit reply. Or feel free to share or forward this email to a friend. Thanks for reading x


🍄Songs, Songs, Songs🍄
(click to listen/follow on Spotify)

Seeing Green — Nicki Minaj, Drake, Lil Wayne


Love You For A Long Time — Maggie Rogers

It’s Too Late — HAERTS

Whatever Tomorrow — Chet Faker

Like I Used To — Sharon Van Etten, Angel Olsen

Stop Making This Hurt — Bleachers

Lost Cause — Aly & AJ

The Walls Are Way Too Thin — Holly Humberstone

traitor — Olivia Rodrigo


Esme Rose Marsh is a writer, artist and the founder of Hook Magazine. She publishes a bi-monthly newsletter called I’ve Been Meaning to Say… which contemplates what it takes to live a meaningful life and her collage prints can be purchased in exclusive drops throughout the year. Esme is a recent cat-convert, a current adoptive ginger and a frequent user of the em dash. She has contributed a variety of creative works to the likes of The Coven, Restless and CONKER and is available for freelance commissions…

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