How have you adapted to the changes brought on by the Covid-19 pandemic?
🌀 The Forgotten Middle
I remember before. And I see what’s after. But the middle? The actual pandemic? It’s like a dream I can’t fully recall.
I know I lived through it. I remember the panic-buying. The clapping. The charts. The “stay alert” messaging that made absolutely no sense. But when I try to think about what day-to-day life felt like during that time—it’s just… blank. A weird emotional silence.
I’ve got fragments. Zoom calls. Those eerily quiet streets. The way a walk around the block felt like an event. But mostly, it’s all a blur. I think my brain just filed 2020–2021 under “Do Not Open.”
🤍 Pandemic Amnesia
It’s a strange thing to feel like you lost time without even realising it. I don’t remember specific moments—I remember moods. I remember the static in the air. The suspended sense of waiting. The way everything felt both urgent and completely still.
What stands out now isn’t COVID itself—it’s the aftermath. The way my habits, routines, and mindset have changed without me really choosing to change them.
I didn’t come out of the pandemic with a brand-new perspective. But I came out with a quieter, more cautious version of myself. And that’s where I’ve noticed the real shift.
🦠 Germs, Caution & Tiny Anxieties
Let’s talk germs.
Pre-pandemic me would’ve happily shared a packet of crisps or nicked a bite of your sandwich without flinching. Now? I second-guess everything. I’ve become low-key obsessed with hand sanitiser. I subconsciously scan crowds and flinch at uncontained coughs like they’re weapons.
Maybe it’s rational. Maybe it’s a trauma hangover. But it’s part of me now.
Even though the world says “you’re safe again,” there’s this internal voice that’s like, “Yeah, but are you really though?”
💨 The Fitness Fallout
Here’s another thing I’ve noticed: I’m just not as fit as I was.
I don’t know if it’s age, long COVID, or just the fact that I spent a year in soft clothes on the sofa watching Bake Off reruns—but my stamina? Not what it used to be.
I get wheezy quicker. I tire more easily. I used to walk for miles without breaking a sweat. Now, I sometimes feel like I need a breather halfway through Lidl.
And it’s frustrating, because I want to do more. I want to feel strong again. But rebuilding takes time. And patience. And a lot of stretching.
🧍♂️ Social Shifts: Smaller Circles, Stronger Roots
The social part of me has changed too.
Before COVID, I was a “yes” person. Pub? Yes. Coffee? Yes. Random 2am walk to the corner shop for no reason? Absolutely.
Now, I think before I commit. I crave quiet more often than crowds. My social battery runs out quicker. I’ve learned to say no without guilt, because I’ve realised my energy is something I need to protect.
That said, the people I’ve kept close? We’re tighter than ever. Conversations run deeper. Silences feel comfortable. There’s more honesty, more softness, more “how are you, really?” than there used to be. And I love that.
🧠 Mental Aftershocks
Even though things look normal again, I don’t think we’ve all fully processed the emotional weight of it all. I know I haven’t.
The pandemic forced us to sit with ourselves in a way we maybe weren’t ready for. It stripped away distractions, routines, even identities. What was left was just… us. Tired, vulnerable, figuring it out in real time.
I found comfort in creativity—writing, photography, study. They gave structure to the chaos. Something to hold onto. Something that wasn’t the news.
I might not remember all the details of what I did during the pandemic, but I do remember what helped me stay afloat. That’s something.
🔁 Still Adapting
So… have I adapted to life post-COVID?
Yes. But not in a neat, movie-montage kind of way.
I’ve adjusted. I’ve changed. I’m more cautious. A little less energetic. A little more thoughtful about what (and who) I give my time to.
I’m still figuring it out, and I think that’s okay. Normal doesn’t mean going back to what was—it means building what’s next.
💭 Final Thoughts
I don’t remember the pandemic clearly. But I remember who I became after it.
And maybe that’s what matters most.
We survived something huge—quietly. And we’re still carrying it in invisible ways. But we’re here. And that’s enough.
🔗 Stay Connected
If this post resonated with you, feel free to share it or leave a comment below—I’d love to hear how others have navigated this strange “after.”
Studio DJC 