These moments have slowly become my quiet evening routine —one built around calm, not perfection.
Some evenings start subtly, almost without me noticing. Around 6 pm, the day naturally begins to slow down. I feed my son, give him a bath, and while he plays in the water, I do my skincare — nothing fancy, just the familiar steps that help me transition out of the day.
When he’s asleep, the house changes. The lights go off, the TV goes on, and I sit on the couch, sometimes scrolling, sometimes watching a show, sometimes doing absolutely nothing. Most evenings settle into calm. But some nights, he calls for maman câlins (hugs) more than once. On those nights, I sit on the stairs near his room waiting to be sure he’s settled. Sometimes a hug is all he needs. Sometimes it takes longer. These evenings aren’t about achieving anything or pretending everything is perfect. They’re simply what they are—mostly calm, occasionally interrupted, and that’s good enough.
Letting My Quiet Evening Routine Be Easy
On peaceful nights, I don’t clean. I don’t plan. I don’t force myself into routines just because they’re supposedly “good for me.” I light a candle if I feel like it, watch a show and let the evening unfold without expectations.
Sometimes there’s tea, sometimes a glass of wine. Sometimes a book, sometimes just my phone. If we didn’t eat earlier, my husband and I have dinner together after our son’s bedtime, slowly, without rushing.
The biggest difference from how my evenings used to look? I don’t rush anymore. I used to pile everything into the evening — preparing for tomorrow, checking off tasks, moving fast. Now I prepare in advance so my evenings can breathe. Calm, for me, is choosing softness without guilt.
Hair, Without Pressure
My hair is present in my evenings, but it’s not the main event. Most weeks, I already have a protective style, which makes nights easier. Other times, my hair is messy — and when it is, it usually goes into a loose bun. Out of sight and out of mind. I make sure to sleep on a silk pillow or use a silk bonnet, so I don’t add to tomorrow’s work. My philosophy now is simple: my hair doesn’t need effort every day to grow or be healthy.
That said, I’ve learned something important. If my hair is really tangled, sleeping on it will only make it worse. On those nights, I don’t brush aggressively and I don’t rush. I finger-detangle the biggest knots if I can and put my hair into a loose braid, just enough to prevent damage, not enough to turn the evening into a whole event.
This is the same mindset I talk about in my winter curly hair routine and in why my wash routine stopped working — different posts, same philosophy: less force, more intention.
The Shift That Changed Everything
My evenings didn’t always feel like this. Before, they were rushed, heavy, and full of guilt. I used to think the faster I handled my hair, the better. I’d rip through knots just to get it over with, frustrated with what I saw instead of working with it. Same with my skincare : I’d wash my face as fast as possible, sometimes skipping removing my makeup properly, just to be done.
Now I really understand something I didn’t before: a knot doesn’t need to be ripped, it needs to be undone. Slowly. Patiently. Sometimes, when it’s tiny and unavoidable, with scissors and without drama. This shift didn’t happen overnight. It came from realizing that being rough with my hair or with myself was never helping.
This Is for You If…
This post is for the woman who rushes through her days and evenings, frustrated with what she has instead of caring for it. For the one who defaults to forcing and rushing; not because she thinks it will help, but because getting it over with feels easier than slowing down.
Your hair isn’t something you need to fight. Neither is your life. It’s okay. Breathe… What if you started romanticizing these moments instead?
And if your evenings feel heavy lately, I want you to know this: you’re not alone, and you can change the pace. Sometimes that means letting the day carry the weight instead of the night. Doing what needs to be done earlier, so the evening can stay soft. Sometimes it means accepting that when your kids are asleep, you don’t have to keep going. Rest doesn’t need to be earned — it can simply be chosen.
Ending the Day Softly
This quiet evening routine can become part of your life too — not something to follow perfectly, but something that helps you slow down and feel grounded. Some nights look like candles and a book. Some nights look like TV and scrolling. Some nights look like doing nothing at all — and that’s enough.
Calm doesn’t come from doing everything right. It comes from allowing yourself to do less, without apologizing for it.
