My friend Jen, who’s based in Sydney, tried calling me one evening.
No answer.
She called again.
Still no answer.
Eventually she gave up and messaged our mutual friend Pia.
“Where is she? Is she okay? Why isn’t she picking up?”
Pia didn’t even have to think about it.
“It’s almost 9pm her time. She’s probably in bed.”
She was right.
I was in bed.
Not dramatic.
Just Tuesday.
Possibly asleep. Definitely horizontal.
That, more or less, is the joke behind the T-shirt I wore during a recent training session for SecondSpring: Fabulous Until 9pm Only.
Judging by the number of DMs I got afterwards, a lot of you saw yourselves in it.
Apparently I’m not the only woman who quietly resigned from Team Night Owl and defected to Team “Can We Make It Lunch Instead?”
Here’s how much I’ve changed.
When Carlos and I were newly married, I used to joke that my top three priorities in life were sex, food, and sleep.
In that order.
Ask me today?
Sleep.
Food.
...Strength training.
That’s the list. That’s the whole list. 😉
Getting into bed by 9pm has kept me out of the 3am club: the one where you stare at the ceiling wondering why your brain suddenly wants to replay every awkward conversation you’ve had since 1995.
But every good life comes with trade-offs.
Dinner has to happen by 6pm. Which sounds monastic until you realize it’s basically just getting the first seating.
I’ve mastered the Irish goodbye. No announcements. No prolonged hugs. I simply evaporate. (Living in Ireland gave me plenty of practice.)
And after sunset...
I become unavailable in much the same way government offices do.
Need me after 9pm?
Kindly resubmit your request during business hours.
Twenty years ago, I measured a good night by how late it ended.
Now I measure it by how early I get into pajamas.
Turns out, I came out ahead.
Because in exchange, I wake up rested.
My skin behaves.
My energy shows up.
I get first pick of the best parts of the day: quiet mornings, good coffee, breakfast dates, and brunch reservations before the queue starts forming.
(I also have very strong opinions about avocado toast and which restaurants should be banned from poaching eggs.)
A 9pm bedtime has stopped feeling like missing out and started feeling like tucking in... especially since Carlos has already been there since 8. 😉
I used to think I’d eventually be embarrassed by this and that I’d have to explain why I’m the friend who’s unreachable after dinner.
I don’t anymore.
I have nothing to prove and nothing to apologize for.
So if your friends have started describing your location by bedtime instead of timezone...
Welcome to the 9pm club.
Membership benefits include great skin, peaceful mornings, and absolutely no idea what happened after dessert.
I still think I’m fabulous after 9pm. I’m just asleep for most of it.