A Heartfelt Note to My Autumn-Obsessed Friends

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Dear Friends in the North,

You know who you are! This morning, you probably woke up feeling a delightful thrill in your heart. You could sense that first little chill in the air—real or imagined—and thought to yourself, “Autumn is coming!” Then, just to ensure the world knew, you shared your excitement across social media.

“I adore fall!” you proclaimed, as you pulled down that bin of cozy sweaters from the top shelf. Sweaters, football games, vibrant leaves, and the thrill of a brand new school year. Oh, and don’t forget your beloved pumpkin spice lattes! You just had to share that with everyone online, tagging it all with #PSL.

But here’s the thing—I need to be honest with you. This might sting a little, but I have to say it.

I can’t stand you right now.

Now, before you start worrying, let me clarify: this feeling is temporary. By mid-November, we can resume our friendly banter. When your colorful leaves turn into a mushy mess and those new sweaters have lost their charm, I’ll be right here, ready to reconnect.

For the next couple of months, though, I can’t help but feel a bit of resentment towards your fall-loving ways. I speak for all my fellow warm-weather enthusiasts when I say:

• When you pin images of stylish boots and scarves on Pinterest boards titled “I Love Fall!” a tiny piece of us dies inside. Sure, we might repin them, but we know our boots won’t see daylight until late October. And even then, we’ll feel like frauds as the sweat collects between our toes.
• When you share recipes for pumpkin-infused everything—pancakes, martinis, s’mores, and even pumpkin-scented drawer potpourri (seriously, enough with the pumpkin!), we experience a mix of envy and frustration, wrapped up in a pumpkin-apple-cinnamon-filled burrito.
• When your Instagram is flooded with #nofilter photos of fiery autumn trees, we can only think of banging our heads against the steering wheel. But alas, the steering wheel is too hot to touch!
• When you brag about the smell of applesauce wafting from your Crock-Pot after a delightful day of apple-picking, we’re stuck inside with the A/C cranked up, cursing the news anchor reporting yet another week of triple-digit temperatures.
• When you dress your kids in matching long-sleeved shirts with cute pumpkin designs and snap photos at the pumpkin patch, we’re lathering ours in SPF 50 and arriving at the patch at the crack of dawn just to beat the heat. Yes, we join in on the hayrides and petting zoos, but only after four months of convincing our kids that outdoor play is actually fun.
• When you cheer for your favorite team in your knit caps and cozy vests with spiked cider in hand, we’re inside wishing we could join you without melting into a puddle.
• And when you share that first pumpkin spice latte of the season, we can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of loathing for everything it represents: the crunch of leaves, the smell of spices, the cozy chili nights, and those crisp mornings. It won’t stop us from getting our own #PSL and sharing, but we do it with a heavy heart.

But here’s the thing—it’s not entirely your fault. I know that one day come March, you’ll feel the same frustration when I post pictures of my kids splashing in sprinklers and enjoying sunny afternoons at spring training games. But until then, I’m stuck in my feelings.

Let’s be real: there’s a reason Starbucks doesn’t promote an iced pumpkin spice latte—it just doesn’t taste the same!

Until November,
Your friend in the sunny South

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Summary: This light-hearted letter expresses the playful jealousy of a warm-weather dweller towards their friends who revel in the joys of autumn. While acknowledging their love for fall, the writer humorously conveys their disdain for the seasonal differences, with a promise of friendship restored by November.