Dear Aa Readers,
When I was younger, all I wanted was to grow up as fast as possible. Adulthood felt like the ultimate cheat code—a place where independence, freedom, and self-assurance existed in abundance. I dreamed about my first apartment, a big-girl job, making money, and having the kind of friendships that only grown-ups seemed to have. I pictured myself as someone sharper, cooler, unbothered—someone who had it all figured out.
But now that I’m here—or somewhere on the way—the urge to reverse the process creeps in sometimes. At my big age of 23, I already find myself reminiscing about being 19, wrapped in nostalgia for a time when life felt simpler, lighter, and somehow more exciting. I’m walking this fine line between being genuinely hyped about the possibilities of adulthood and, bluntly put, just not wanting to grow old yet. It’s not just me; we’re all trying to hack time, slow it down, even rewind it.

Watching The Substance by Coralie Fargeat made me confront that tension head-on. The film is a visceral take on what it means to exist as a woman in an era of hyper-awareness and relentless self-optimization. Beyond its unsettling imagery and razor-sharp storytelling, it left me spiraling with one haunting question: What is my substance? What part of me, if stripped down to its essence, would I fight to protect—no matter the cost?

Growing up fast comes with its own kind of naivety. When you’re young, you’re desperate to escape the confines of childhood and the awkward in-between. You want to skip ahead to the ‘completed’ version of yourself. But as you grow older, you realize that the finish line you were racing toward is a mirage. And somewhere along the way, you start chasing the opposite—desperately clinging to the youth you once took for granted.
We live in a society where beauty is currency, where comparison is the norm. But it doesn’t stop at comparing ourselves to others. We’re constantly measuring ourselves against different, seemingly ‘better’ versions of ourselves—versions that exist in filtered images, unattainable standards, or memories of a body and face untouched by time.
And then there’s the spectrum of body modification we all find ourselves on, whether we admit it or not. From serums to surgery, wellness routines to aesthetic interventions, every tweak is part of a larger story: the hyper-awareness of self. We’re the center of our own universes, examining and dissecting every flaw under a microscope. It’s exhausting, but it’s also inescapable.

The truth is, the desire to preserve something—youth, beauty, identity—is deeply human. But The Substance asks a more profound question: What would you give up to hold onto that one thing? If preserving your essence meant sacrificing everything else—your complexity, your flaws, your humanity—would it even be worth it?
Growing up fast or slow, the journey feels less like a straight path and more like a loop, circling back on itself. We’re constantly negotiating who we were, who we are, and who we want to be. The trick isn’t in stopping the clock or racing against it. It’s in figuring out what matters—and holding onto that, no matter how the rest of you changes.

So, what’s your substance?
The Substance by Coralie Fargeat, a gripping exploration of these themes, is now exclusively available on MUBI.