I’m Not an Adventurer, and I’m No Longer Apologizing for It

I recently visited the grocery store and picked up a pine-scented candle, eagerly anticipating the moment I could light it at home. This small pleasure was the highlight of my day, and I’m not bothered if it makes me seem like I need more thrilling experiences in my life.

At 45, I’ve come to realize that my happiness lies in the simple things: enjoying uncomplicated meals and spending time with those who appreciate my love for fast food—no fancy dipping sauces, just good old ketchup for me.

When I attend gatherings, I’m the person who brings onion dip made from Lipton soup mix and sour cream, as I’d much rather indulge in that than in a fancy appetizer that took forever to prepare. I’m not aiming for sophistication; I’m perfectly content watching a cheesy rom-com over a thought-provoking documentary. A Friday night spent dozing off to the Lifetime Channel is my idea of a good time. My home is decorated with finds from Amazon and Target, and I don’t feel the pressure to keep up with others’ vacations, summer plans, or the latest gadgets.

I’ve always found joy in the little things, like trying out a new blender for a banana smoothie or eagerly looking forward to Friday night pizza. While some may laugh good-naturedly at my simplicity, I’ve never had a desire to travel extensively or seek out adrenaline-pumping adventures. Bungee jumping, cliff diving, and snorkeling are simply not on my agenda; I find comfort in my routines and have no interest in learning another language.

For a long time, I felt self-conscious about my preference for the simple life. It seemed everyone around me was chasing after grand experiences, while I was perfectly happy stopping at the grocery store to experiment with new recipes. Small joys fuel me, and I have no intention of transforming my life to fit someone else’s definition of excitement.

You can keep your fancy cocktails; I’m perfectly satisfied with a Diet Coke. I don’t need spa days or weekend getaways to recharge—though I do appreciate those occasionally. A solo drive to Target can be just as refreshing. I’m not drawn to high-end restaurants; I prefer large portions over tiny, artfully plated dishes. I want to see my food and enjoy free refills, not fuss over how delicately a dish is presented. A burger loaded with bacon and cheese beats any gourmet creation, and I prefer my pizza topped with extra cheese and maybe some pepperoni—no fancy vegetables or sauces for me.

When it comes to shopping for clothes, I go where I find what I like, whether it’s Walmart or Nordstrom. The brand doesn’t matter to me; what counts is how it looks on me. I’m all about saving money, and I don’t mind if my kids are a bit embarrassed by my no-name snack choices.

High-end vacations don’t appeal to me. While they can be enjoyable, I’d rather stay at a Hampton Inn with a hot tub and a big TV. I don’t need room service or luxurious amenities; a trip to the drive-thru for breakfast is just fine.

I skip pricey manicures in favor of doing my press-ons at home while watching my favorite rom-coms and enjoying some off-brand ice cream. I’m loyal to my inexpensive Pantene hair products and do my own color with a box dye from the grocery store, feeling just as satisfied as I would after a salon visit.

My perfect day includes a quick morning romp, a run while listening to a humorous podcast, and then indulging in a diner meal where the grease is delicious. Napping and binge-watching mindless TV follow.

Some may label me as boring, but I don’t mind. Others have called me low-maintenance, but I cherish the things society often deems “uncool” like fast food, sugary sodas, and reality TV.

The pressure to “live your best life” and constantly seek new experiences can be overwhelming. While trying new things can be fulfilling for some, I find joy in the uncomplicated, untrendy, and unglamorous aspects of life. For example, when Wendy’s introduced their pretzel bun, that simple pleasure brought me more happiness than a fancy dish I spent a fortune on in a new restaurant.

I’ve even canceled plans just to stay cozy in my pajamas and rearrange furniture. Enjoying nachos with friends at our favorite Mexican spot is far more appealing than hitting a club or hiking up a mountain.

So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to binge-watch Dawson’s Creek this weekend without the kids and order my extra cheese pizza.

Summary

In this piece, the author embraces their love for simple pleasures and routine, unapologetically rejecting societal pressures to seek adventure or glamour. They find joy in everyday moments, whether it’s a candlelit evening or a diner meal, and cherish the uncomplicated aspects of life that bring them happiness.