No one I know wants to go spend their one wild and magical life being a shill for some billionaire tech asshole, says Shannon, a character in Yesteryear, the buzzy new novel about a tradwife influencer by Caro Claire Burke.
All of us live in an age where we're bombarded by social media and artificial intelligence - when striving to be your authentic self becomes an increasingly difficult task. Yet, even if it has somehow become a common goal, it is unclear how many of us can truly define the "authenticity" that we say we are pursuing.
True love is not transactional. If we only love on the expectation of being loved back, then it is not love, it is bartering. Love is unconditional. I love you, and that is all and everything. You do not need to do anything. You do not need to reciprocate. You do not even need to know.
You know that ache you get when you stumble across evidence of your past self being genuinely, effortlessly happy? It's not that you want to go back. Not really. I think what kills you is the proof staring back at you - proof that you were once capable of feeling that alive, that connected, that certain about where you belonged in the world.