Every year, without fail, there comes a moment when we suddenly forget who we were just a season ago. It usually happens in the most unassuming ways a gust of cooler wind, a lingering sunset, the first appearance of pumpkin-colored anything and suddenly, we’re struck with a sort of emotional déjà vu.
I like to call it seasonal amnesia.
It’s that delightful, slightly delusional phenomenon where we pretend we don’t remember the chaos, the cravings, the moods, or the habits of our last season. As if our summer selves, with their SPF-slicked noses and iced coffee addictions, have nothing to do with the version of us now contemplating loafers and slow mornings.
WHEN THE SEASONS SHIFT, SO DO WE
Somewhere between late summer’s haze and early fall’s promise, we undergo a quiet transformation. One minute, we’re living on watermelon slices and sheer dresses; the next, we’re fantasizing about cinnamon, structure, and sweaters that feel like emotional support.
Seasonal amnesia gives us permission to become new, without explaining the old.
THE ROMANCE OF STARTING OVER (AGAIN)
There’s a certain charm in believing that the next season is going to be the season:
- The season you finally organize your closet.
- The season you commit to early morning walks.
- The season you stop buying lattes like emotional souvenirs.
- The season you actually fold your laundry.
LITTLE RITUALS OF SEASONAL AMNESIA
If you want to practice seasonal amnesia like a seasoned New Yorker, here’s what I’ve learned:
• Edit your space.
Swap out one scent, one throw, one candle, one color. Instant mood shift.
• Change your rhythm.
Wake up ten minutes earlier, or later. Take a different route. Drink something hot instead of iced — or vice versa.
• Rethink your habits.
Maybe you’re suddenly a “read before bed” girl. Maybe you’re a smoothie person now. Maybe you’re journaling, or not journaling, or journaling romantically and inconsistently.
• Try on the personality of the season.
Fall? Cozy intellectual.
Winter? Chic minimalist.
Spring? Rebirth with lip gloss.
Summer? Barely-there hedonist.
(They’re all you. You’re just choosing who gets the spotlight.)
As the world tilts from one season to the next, we’re offered the rare chance to reinvent ourselves again gently, stylishly, almost accidentally. And maybe that’s the magic of seasonal amnesia: not that we forget, but that we allow ourselves to.
Because who we were in June doesn’t have to define who we are in September. And who we’ll be in December? She hasn’t been written yet and thank God.
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