The MAY Report | 2026
Beach Days, Book Boyfriends and BAFTAs
Guys, I’m rich. I really am.
Not in a way my banking app would recognise, sadly. But in the way that matters.
This month I sat on a beach with some of my favourite people. I saw Olivia Dean and RAYE perform live. I spent sunny evenings walking home through London while the sky still looked like late afternoon. I got completely consumed by a sci-fi novel, accidentally developed a personality centred around hockey romance, and this little newsletter quietly reached 1,000 subscribers.
None of those things are particularly remarkable on their own. But together, they made May feel wonderfully full.
I’ve been thinking a lot recently about how easy it is to overlook the good parts of life while they’re happening. We spend so much time waiting for the next thing: the holiday, the promotion, the relationship, the milestone. Meanwhile, entire seasons of our lives pass us by.
And yet when I look back on this month, what I remember isn’t anything particularly extraordinary. It’s conversation. Music. Books. Sunshine. The feeling of sitting outside with friends and realising nobody has looked at their phone for twenty minutes.
May wasn’t perfect. No month ever is. This is a highlight reel, not a documentary.
But it was one of those months that reminded me how much joy there is in paying attention. In noticing what’s already here.
And for that reason, it felt incredibly rich.
READING
The moment I started typing this section, Happy Xmas (War Is Over) began playing in my head.
Four books.
FOUR.
A number that would have made January Me completely unbearable.
I’ve been thinking a lot recently about reading, and whether somewhere along the line I accidentally turned it into a performance. Which is such a depressing sentence to write. What a strange little corner of modern life we’ve created where even something as private and joyful as reading can become tangled up with productivity, goals, streaks and statistics.
I found myself staring at Goodreads the other day wondering whether I actually wanted to pick up a book or whether I wanted the satisfaction of adding another title to a challenge.
I am increasingly tempted to amicably separate from both Goodreads and Fable. Not because I don’t love seeing what everyone else is reading, but because I miss the version of reading that wasn’t keeping score. The version where you read because you’re curious, or bored, or heartbroken, or because you simply don’t want to look at your phone for twenty minutes.
As long as I’m reading, I don’t think it matters how many books I finish. It doesn’t matter whether it’s literary fiction or hockey romance. Not every book has to change my life. Some books are just there to keep you company.
Which brings me to this month’s reading.
Careless People by Sarah Wynn-Williams
I picked this up wanting something slightly gossipy that I could still pretend was educational. It turned out to be both.
Sarah Wynn-Williams charts her journey from idealistic Facebook employee to disillusioned insider and I absolutely tore through it.
What fascinated me most was how conflicted it made me feel. There were moments where I wanted to shake her and say, “Just leave!” while simultaneously recognising how easy that is for me to say from the comfort of my sofa.
It’s a book about power, ambition, complicity and the stories we tell ourselves in order to stay somewhere that no longer aligns with our values.
I finished it feeling slightly unsettled about social media, big tech and, if I’m honest, humanity in general.
Which, judging by recent events, feels particularly timely. Full Review:
The Swimmer by Graham Norton
My first experience of Graham Norton’s fiction and certainly not my last.
It’s only around eighty pages long and felt like sitting down for a quick cup of tea and accidentally staying for three hours.
The premise is deceptively simple: a woman notices a swimmer out at sea from her window, and then realises the swimmer never comes back. What follows is a wonderfully atmospheric little mystery that somehow manages to feel complete despite its tiny page count.
I am notoriously bad at predicting twists. If there is a twist, I will miss it. If there are multiple twists, I will probably suspect the dog. So I was delighted to be thoroughly surprised by the ending.
Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir
Friends, I fear the internet was right.
I wanted to read this before the film adaptation arrived and despite years of hearing people describe it as life-changing, I remained sceptical. Mainly because I have never considered myself a sci-fi reader.
As it turns out, I wasn’t anti-sci-fi. I was simply waiting for Ryland Grace.
The story begins with a man waking up alone on a spaceship with no memory of who he is or how he got there. From there it unfolds into something bigger, stranger, funnier and more moving than I ever expected.
The science should not work for me. I am someone who always uses her fingers to do maths.
Yet somehow Andy Weir makes complex scientific concepts feel like the most exciting thing in the world. I never felt lost. I just wanted to keep turning pages.
I also need to dedicate a small shrine within this newsletter to the audiobook.
Halfway through I started switching between reading and listening and it became one of the best audiobook experiences I’ve ever had. If audiobooks have an equivalent of an EGOT, I would like to nominate this one immediately.
But beyond the science and adventure, what stayed with me was how hopeful it is. It’s a story about friendship, resilience and finding connection in the most unexpected places. It made me laugh, it made me emotional and it reminded me that optimism can be every bit as compelling as cynicism.
Which is probably why it has sailed straight into my top five books of all time.
The Deal by Elle Kennedy
And if you’ve been paying attention to my personality for more than five posts, you’ll know exactly why.
Please scroll down.
The O in REPORT this month is not exactly a mystery.
EXPLORING
The UK decided to have a heatwave in May, which meant that myself and every other person in East London apparently had exactly the same idea: go to the coast.
The day didn’t get off to the most promising start. By the time our train reached the first stop, there wasn’t a single seat left and we still had an hour and a half to go. Nothing says “relaxing seaside escape” quite like standing in a sweaty carriage questioning every life choice that brought you there.
But the coast has a funny way of softening everything around the edges. The second I arrived, my mood shifted completely.
I spent the afternoon in a camping chair surrounded by four of my favourite people. We burnt the bottoms of our feet on the sand, became far too invested in UV levels for a group of twenty-somethings and soaked up every second of sunshine.
Somewhere between the sea air, the conversation and the complete absence of notifications, I realised how desperately I needed a day that wasn’t trying to be productive. Sometimes the most restorative thing isn’t a grand adventure or a wellness retreat. Sometimes it’s just salt air, good friends and a few hours with nowhere else to be.
PLAYING
If you’re new here, you might not know that one of my New Year’s resolutions was to watch a film, see a theatre show or visit a gallery every single week.
If you also happened to catch my semi-viral post about being a self-proclaimed GLAM woman (Galleries, Libraries, Archives and Museums), I’d like to formally announce my next chapter.
The Crazy CATS Lady era.
That’s Cinema, Arts, Theatre and Sport.
May was a particularly strong month for the CATS agenda. Between cinema trips, theatre, concerts and sport, I managed to tick every box while simultaneously spending all of my money.
First came Olivia Dean, who is quite possibly the human embodiment of whimsy. It was one of the best concerts I’ve ever been to. Her voice, her stage presence, the atmosphere. Everything felt effortless. And then Sam Fender casually appeared on stage as if my serotonin levels weren’t already operating at full capacity.
A week later I was seeing RAYE, who was equally brilliant.
What struck me most wasn’t even her voice. It was her storytelling. Before so many of the songs, she’d explain exactly where they came from and what they meant to her. It felt intimate, honest and a reminder that some of the best musicians are also some of the best writers.
Sandwiched between the concerts was my weekly cinema trip to see The Sheep Detective.
And if I told you it was an instant classic, what then?
I deeply related to Zora. As someone who asks approximately one million questions a day and occasionally wishes she could unknow certain facts, I felt very seen.
Then there was Kinky Boots.
Embarrassingly, Kinky Boots is a bit like Glee for me. No matter how many years pass, those songs somehow find their way back into my Spotify Wrapped. It’s camp. It’s joyful. It’s emotional. It’s completely unapologetic about all of it.
Sometimes I think about how lucky I am that a resolution has become something I genuinely look forward to every week. A younger version of me would have thought a month spent hopping between concerts, cinemas and theatres sounded impossibly glamorous.
Instead, it’s become normal. And honestly? What a lovely life that is.
OFF CAMPUS
I fear the O in REPORT this month stands for Off Campus.
What began as casually watching the TV adaptation quickly spiralled into a full-blown personality trait.
One minute I was looking for something fun and easy to watch. The next I was watching cast interviews, saving edits to my camera roll and allowing TikTok to convince me that hockey was a central part of my identity.
There’s something so refreshing about it. The romance is swoony. The friendships are lovely. And unlike many of the shows I grew up watching, the men actually communicate their feelings instead of staring moodily into the distance for three seasons.
Naturally, watching the show wasn’t enough. So I picked up The Deal by Elle Kennedy.
This is where I risk alienating the book purists: I actually preferred the adaptation. Not because the book is bad. The book is … fine. But the show felt like it had taken the bones of the story and given them a really excellent editor.
TV Hannah felt sharper, funnier and more self-assured, and I much preferred several of the changes they made, particularly turning Justin into a musician.
I’ve also realised hockey romance is essentially a soap opera wearing a varsity jacket. There are so many characters, relationships and interconnected storylines that after a while you start feeling like you’ve accidentally enrolled at Briar University yourself.
And despite being marketed as fake dating, The Deal felt much more like two people stubbornly refusing to acknowledge they fancy each other. Which, frankly, is a trope I enjoy just as much. The thing is, none of this stopped me devouring it.
At over four hundred pages, it should have taken me longer than it did. Instead, it was the literary equivalent of a family-sized bag of crisps. You keep saying you’ll stop after one more chapter and suddenly it’s midnight.
There are approximately twelve more books waiting for me in this universe. Part of me thinks that’s excessive … a much louder part has already started the next one.
REFLECTING
This month, this little corner of the internet reached 1,000 subscribers, and honestly, I’m feeling incredibly grateful.
Growing up dyslexic, I never imagined writing could become my profession. I loved it, but it often felt like loving something that came more naturally to everyone else. While every rom-com heroine seemed to be effortlessly typing away in a chic city apartment, I was usually staring at a page wondering why words felt so much harder.
Which is why this milestone means so much to me.
Not because of the number itself, although seeing four digits next to something I created still feels slightly surreal, but because every person behind that number has chosen to spend a small part of their week reading my work.
What I love most about this newsletter is that it gives me space to be both serious and silly. One week I’m writing about something I care deeply about, the next I’m discussing a fictional character as though they’re a close personal friend.
And somehow, there are now 1,000 of you along for the ride.
So thank you. Thank you for reading, sharing, replying and continuing to come back each week. This has always been the dream: to write, to connect with people, and to build something meaningful from words.
I’m so glad you’re here.
TEN FOR THE MONTH
Living a secret Hannah Montana life: BAFTA red carpet on Sunday, stressed back at my desk on Monday.
Olivia Dean featuring a surprise Sam Fender appearance. A genuinely whimsical evening.
Saying goodbye to a friend moving to Australia and being reminded how brave my friends are.
Midweek dinners and pints. Hugely underrated.
Theatre being back in my life. In another universe, I am absolutely attempting jazz hands for a living.
Cinema Sundays becoming one of my favourite traditions.
Eurovision parties. We need more organised fun.
Beach days with friends, books, sunshine and SPF anxiety.
RAYE. What an honour it is to exist in the same timeline as her talent.
One thousand of you.
About Twenty Five Reset
The 25 Reset: A home for eldest daughters with a quarter-life crisis, part public diary, part pop culture chat. Expect lessons from turning 25, reflections on growing up online, and discussions on books, TV, films and everything in between.
Dear Diary - My public diary that maybe shouldn’t be public
Monthly Report - My monthly joys shared with you
Friendfluenced - the friendships that raise us, change us, and stay with us long after they’ve shifted
She Said Yes - ‘52 weeks’ of saying yes. Doing something … anything … every day just for fun.
Consumed - Everything I’ve read, watched, listened to and loved lately
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Love this! To an even brighter june!