I never looked twice at pens.
They’re just pens.
If they’re cute, they go into the basket.
Little details that made me smile at first glance?
Yes, that’s coming home with me.
I used to choose like that.
Based on how something looked.
How it felt in the moment.
How easy it was to say yes.
And for a while, it seemed fine.
Until I started using them.
Ink that skips.
Lines that break.
Pens that hesitate mid-thought.
Small interruptions.
But constant.
At first, I ignored it.
I told myself—
it still works.
I can adjust.
I can press harder.
Write slower.
Shake the pen and try again.
Draw circles until I filled up a whole page.
But something shifted.
Because I realized…
it wasn’t just about the pen.
It was about what I was willing to tolerate.
Tiny frictions.
Quiet interruptions.
Things that didn’t quite meet me…
but I kept anyway.
Not because they were good.
But because they were already there.
And the cost?
Not obvious.
Just a subtle loss of flow.
A pause where there should have been ease.
A break where there should have been continuity.
It made something simple
feel harder than it should be.
So I changed how I choose.
Now, I pay attention to how something performs.
Not just how it looks.
Beauty in and out.
I reach for pens that glide.
Mildliner.
Mattehop.
Sarasa.
Even some Daiso pens are very good.
Ink that moves the way my thoughts do—
steady, uninterrupted, clean.
And the difference?
Immediate.
No hesitation.
No adjusting.
No quiet frustration building in the background.
Just flow.
Now when something doesn’t work—
I don’t keep it.
Not out of guilt.
Not out of habit.
Not because I already said yes once.
I try.
I check.
And if it still resists?
I let it go.
Because I understand this now:
What looks beautiful outside doesn’t always translate inside…
Or the way it functions.
Sometimes they look cute.
Convenient.
But you feel the difference later.
When you uncap that pen and start writing.
Or when you apply that blush that looked so good in the packaging -
But muddy on your face.
In the friction.
In the resistance.
In the way something slowly pulls you out of alignment.
So I stopped tolerating ugly things.
Not just in appearance—
but in function.
In energy.
In experience.
And I started curating beauty.
The kind that supports you.
The kind that works with you.
The kind that lets you move
without interruption.
Not louder.
Not more.
Just better.
With intention.
With clarity.
With quiet standards that no longer bend.
And now?
I choose differently.
Not based on what’s available.
But on what actually meets me.
On what’s beautiful in all areas, not just on the surface.
Because I’ve learned this the hard way:
What you allow—
you eventually feel.
And what you choose well?
Carries you.
—-
With elegance and quiet fire,
Lady E
Founder, Glow by Lady E
An editorial space for stories, art, and intentional living
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