“me staring at the bottle of Cetaphil I used when I was 11… like it’s an ex who never really did me dirty but also never texted back.”

There I was. Mid-shower existential crisis.

Trying every new body lotion on earth — fruity ones, expensive ones, ones that smell like a concept.

And then I saw her. Cetaphil.

Just standing there on the pharmacy shelf like:

“You done playing yet?”

She doesn’t smell like flowers.

She doesn’t sparkle.

She doesn’t promise to make me a glowing dewy princess.

But she SHOWS UP. Every time. Quietly. Like a reliable emotionally unavailable man.

But in lotion form.

No fragrance. No drama. Just hydration.

I

t’s like… does it spark joy? Not really.

Does it spark breakouts? Absolutely not.

Do I kinda feel 13 again when I use it? Yes.

Am I mad about that? …Surprisingly no.

Would I ever post her on IG? Probably not.

Would I secretly panic if she was discontinued? YES.