Hi, I’m Marina Khorosh and I’m a writer, partner, toddler mom and, now, creator of Accidentally Adult, a newsletter about doing all of the aforementioned jobs without having the slightest clue what I’m doing.
Let’s backtrack, shall we?
Once upon a time, when I was in my mid-twenties and living in Paris, I started Dbag Dating, a blog that recounted my innumerable dating misadventures (and even led to some cool opportunities, such as a Vogue.com byline and a memoir called Love in Translation). For the next five years, my life was fun, frivolous and completely egocentric, just like one’s youth should be. Then, in the summer of 2019, the Hinge Gods finally threw me a juicy bone in the form of a nice guy (briefly guised as a douchebag), who strung me along for a few torturous months, before succumbing to my ineffable charms. A few weeks before the world shut down, we moved in together. A few “unprecedented” months later, I was pregnant.
Three years after I had Citibiked to our first date in Lower Manhattan, my self-centered past has been replaced by a chaotic, tumultuous, messy life full of love and tears and Cocomelon sessions and endless kitchen cleanups. It is also (surprise, surprise!) filled with myriad new problems that I wasn’t quite prepared for, all of which feel uncomfortably real, irreversible and adult. While I will never discredit the anxiety that comes with not knowing when–and if–you will meet a person you can build a life with, I don’t think I was ever quite prepared for how challenging the process of actually building said life would be. How hard it would be to give up so much of my time and freedom, to learn to budget past myself and a six-pound yorkie, to survive the first year of having a baby as a couple–the list goes on.
Staying true to the good old “those who can’t do, teach” adage, I have created Accidentally Adult, a newsletter designed to help us wade through the tribulations of adult existence, while embracing the perennial sense of imposter syndrome that comes with. At the end of the day, I assume that most of us don’t know what the f*ck we are doing, so we might as well just enjoy the ride and have a laugh along the way. As for you rare self-assured souls, read along to feel superior by association.
Below is a sampler of content that you can expect delivered to your inbox on a weekly-ish basis.
Rants about Pro Moms and my failure to become one.
Rants about serious relationships and my struggles to excel at one.
Melancholic essays about missing the freedom of child-free existence.
Love letters to the founders of Cocomelon. (JK. Or maybe not.)
Brief lists of things that make parenting slightly easier.
At the moment, this newsletter is entirely free. However, you can upgrade to a paid subscription to contribute to my diaper fund and earn my undying gratitude. Consider yourself a benefactor, like the Medicis.
I can’t wait to meet all of you!
