steeped by samia no.42 | 11.21.25
“This skyscraper’s causing vertigo” — Lover Girl by Laufey (2025)
I’m on the first leg of a 3 hour Amtrak ride to see Ferheen in Sacramento, and I told myself, “Samia, you better write! Steeped is calling!”
It’s 3:30PM, and it literally feels like 5:30PM. The world is golden. On the train, staring out of the window, memories blur in mysterious ways. The possibility of answering nebulous life questions or dreaming up a new pathway becomes reified—the mosaic of a waiting mind.
I’m listening to Laufey, one of a few of my current music obsessions and a fashion muse that haunts my ThredUp favorites folder.
press ‘Play’ on this song:
It surprises me, and at the same time, it doesn’t surprise me when I blink and 3+ months of not publishing Steeped has gone by. I thought about making my Instagram bio: A writer, too busy not writing.
The truth is, I have so many things I can write about, flurries of inspiration, ideas in my backlog. Yet, I hesitate to put it out there. It’s how I write and the little mazes that make my writing uniquely mine, regardless of the topic. I have to remember this.
Here, where the world feels still and the sun-glistened water is right next to me, I bring you vignettes that feel like 27—and corresponding songs to listen to—in the slow pursuit of building foundation for my life in my late 20’s.
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“Something’s gotta go, Samia.”
press ‘Play’ on this song:
I’m in my junior year of high school. During passing period between third period and SSR (the equivalent of study hall), I go to my math teacher’s classroom to discuss how I’m struggling with math. He’s sitting at his desk, kids mill about or sit on top of desks with their backpacks slouching off of their shoulders. It’s one of those portable classrooms with a bunch of pictures and school ephemera stapled to the wall, including perfectly peeled, S-shaped tangerine peels (#ifyouknowyouknow).
So, there I am, telling him that I’m struggling with math. He uncaps a ballpoint pen and asks: “What things do you have going on? Like, clubs etc.?” I list out things like my role in ASB, Creative Writing Club, School Board Student Representative, among other things. There’s probably 5 things on that list that he scrawls on a random paper. He says, “It seems like there’s a lot on your plate right now. What can stay or go so you can make your studies and this class work? Your academics are important.”
I left that conversation drying tears from my eyes, on my way back to APUSH class with a signed pass in my hand. He must have said something harsh or something I needed to hear—or both.
Re: Juggling too many things:
- Q: Have I learned from this?
- A: Oh, probably not.
No wonder I’m a freelancer. I find myself in the organized chaos of doing so many things at once. That’s just who I am.
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Chins up to the sky.
press ‘Play’ on this song:
I’m lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling. My legs are propped against my twin bed. Lovely, green foliage and the Grad School Building can be seen from my window. The sky is gray with rain clouds. There’s dots everywhere on the ceiling, and they seem to be shifting a little (veryy The Yellow Wallpaper). My laptop is open next to me with a Word Doc that hasn’t changed in the past two hours.
I’m writing—more like not writing—my Creative Writing Senior Thesis: 40-ish pages of a fantasy novel. It’s one of the hardest creative things I’ve done in life.
I give myself pep talks that I continue to give myself:
- The Magic is in the process.
- I just have to write a little every day.
- I can’t get anywhere without a sh!tty first draft.
- It’ll work itself out and it’ll all work out.
Is the aesthetic of doing something just as satisfying as actually doing something?
I’m sitting on a plush seat, gaze tilted to the ceiling. This time, it’s the Milky Way coalescing before my eyes. Pedro Pascal tells me things about Space in a soothing voice. I feel connected. I didn’t want it to end. Both the planetarium show and this every-other-year trip to NYC, spending time with Safa and friends, riding the subway 25 mins. to get somewhere, seeing new and familiar things.
The blur of it all that reminds me of what it means and feels like to be a Gen Z-er in their 20’s (veryy Adults on FX). And how blessed I am to live this life, however it appears or doesn’t appear to be.
I’m sitting on the iconic honeyed-wood steps inside the Natural History Museum, under a sculpted bone-colored atrium. It feels like we’re all ants scurrying this way and that inside a dinosaur skeleton (the leaf cutter ants exhibit is right next to me).
I call my dad to catch him up, “I saw the planetarium show!!” (Dear reader, this planetarium is probably the only positive thing my dad has said about NYC aka “Second Sin City,” or so he calls it). I feel a lump in the back of my throat.
From the large windows, I see taxis driving by, the greenery of late summer in Central Park, hot dog and halal carts, families on vacation and co-workers on a lunch break stroll.
I leave in two days, and I can’t wait to be back.
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Age 27, or also known as “3 Years to 30”
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This year has fueled me to start the process of or finish things that I’ve been putting off. I wrote in my journal in March: 27 feels right in my soul. At the same time, it challenges me. Inspired by conversations with family and friends, especially Eo, I’ve been asking myself: How can I build foundation for myself as I approach my 30’s?
I’m aware that this is an ongoing question at any age or era of life. We continue to build new goals and scaffolding, re-prioritize or re-route—and unexpected things tear through our lives like the cyclone in the Wizard of Oz. I recognize that I don’t want to start my 30’s in the very same environment and rhythms that have characterized my 20’s (In this economy?? Lol).
Here are some questions floating in my mind:
- What does the most aligned version of myself look and feel like?
- What parts of my life feel misaligned and what can I do about it?
- How do I want to show up for my community?
I’ve been collecting Self-Help-y gems that have altered my brain in an expansive way. Here are a few on my list:
- The How: Notes on the Great Work of Meeting Yourself by Yrsa Daley-Ward
- The Future Self Project: Envisioning Your Next Chapter on The Good Life Project podcast by Jonathan Fields
- Healing 2.0: Change Your Life, Change Your Story on Hidden Brain podcast by Shankar Vedantam
As Nivita once told me, “Discomfort can be a sign that you’re ready for growth.”
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Interlude: A Delay.
press ‘Play’ on this podcast episode:
The train has stopped. The conductor announces a delay due to police activity ahead, and there’s no ETA on when we’d be moving. I text my sister and dad about the delay (“I’ll probably be an hour or so late. Maybe more.”). People who had 1 to 3 stops left end up departing the train. It feels like a Friday night, but it’s the beginning of the week. The sun is setting, a bright orange flash on the horizon. It gets dark quickly (veryy Fall back // Spring forward.)
I stop writing this piece to listen to the above Las Culturistas episode; it was SO fun and much-needed.
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The time I was an editorial intern in Berkeley.
press ‘Play’ on this song:
The train stops in Berkeley. Past the yellow-walled train station, sits Fourth Street. I commuted here 3 days a week, this time 6 years ago for my editorial internship, taking a series of trains and buses early in the morning. Fourth street is a boujee little downtown with eateries, boutiques and more. There’s a lush Latina-owned plant store there that Renuka introduced me to.
On my lunch breaks, I’d walk around and admire the Fall trees, which then morphed into the pine garlands, velvety bows, and string lights of Christmas decorations. I’d get a little treat sometimes—a chai latte with oat milk and coconut syrup from the Peet’s Coffee near my office (the last time I worked in a legit office!). I’d stroll around Anthropologie and looking at all the lush textiles (that one could get cheaper + better quality in India) and spiced candles. I’d walk past Cafe Réveille and think about trying the coconut chia seed pudding with apricot compote. I’d browse the bookstore and take pictures of eye-catching book covers.
It was the sluggish pace of NaNoWriMo to continue writing the fantasy novel from my Senior Thesis. It was the start of my blog and first blog interview series. It was the drawn-out end of something special and heart-wrenching. It was 21 years old. It was the Fall before COVID-19.
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“If I could understand myself better,
I’d probably understand a lot more about the world and certainly about my country, in which so many people seem to revere their persecutors and appear grateful to be subjugated and told what to do, what to wear, what to eat, and how to think. There is something knotty here, something puzzling about the human condition in all of this. But maybe it’s best to leave some things un-understood, mysterious. I’m all for the unclimbed mountain. The unconquered moon.”
—Arundhati Roy in Mother Mary Comes to Me
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A golden, golden world awaits.
press ‘Play’ on this song:
The last time I was on this train route, I was heading to Sacramento to go on a weekend trip with Ferheen to see Fall leaves in June Lake area (“Sisters Act,” my dad calls us). It’s something we’ve been meaning to do for at least the past four years. We’re Fall Seekers.
Weeks before the trip, I pictured us walking around a lush autumnal world. The vicinity coated with colorful Fall trees, a mischievous little chill in the air, mushrooms hiding around, smoke coming from cabin chimneys, pumpkins artfully clustered around a small town like Gilmore Girls, hot cocoa warming up our hands. The Storybook Fall experience.
Walking around Silver Lake felt like we had successfully crossed off “Fall Leaves in NorCal” on our bucket list.
The day was sunny and 60° F. Snow covered the sides of the road and in the shade, from a snow storm earlier that week. The lake was beautiful, reflecting an upside-down world of blue sky and fall ephemera. The trees were glorious: hundreds of aspen trees towered over us, with their delicate gray-white trunks and abundance of golden leaves (lots of “Oh wooow~”s exchanged between me and ‘Een). Trudging through the foliage and snaking over and around tree roots with Ferheen, my fellow Fall Seeker, it was uniquely different and, in fact, better than the storybook version in my head.
I’m reminded of a line from a k-drama I watched earlier this year. The guy main character remarks that he became less interested in watching movies because he became more interested in experiencing the world. As I get older, I’m understanding, more and more, what this means. —S.A.
💫 Catch Up:
07.25.25 | What is going on with ‘content’ lately?
steeped by samia no.41: “F*ck the algorithm” —RM in All Day (with Tablo), Indigo (2022)
💌 About This Blog:
Steeped by Samia is a space where I can simmer on thoughts & curiosities about life, liminal spaces, digital culture, & more. Far too often, my writing ideas fizzle out in energy; I never get to see them to their full potential. While building my rhythm with writing, I want to share these stories with you.
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