32 things 🌀 and hello!
hello! i’m back after a long-ish hiatus. i’ll maybe write about it someday but for now, i’m simply here to show up in your inbox with a quick hello.
i recently celebrated my 32nd birthday and it did not go as planned. in fact, my whole summer felt like a swirling whirlwind of chaos and emotion. as a grounding practice i made this list. and today i am sharing it with you. ❤️
32 things i know to be true at 32:
the easier you make the process of getting out of the house, the better.
your job, your family, your partner, and your friends do not own you. you own you.
life is like doing the dishes, it’s a job that never “ends”. no matter how you do it today, you gotta start it all over again tomorrow, so done is better than perfect.
you cannot do everything all on your own. the sooner you learn how to lean on others without guilt, the less painful it will be.
literally no one knows what they are doing, even at the highest levels of “success.”
you’re not going to start that early morning optimized routine. let your body rest.
it’s wise to assume that things won’t go according to plan, but having a well-thought-out plan isn’t a moot point.
money is a tool, wield it wisely. but don’t hold onto it too tightly, it won’t save you from loss. and certainly don’t trade your happiness for it.
old dogs can and do learn new tricks.
unfortunately moderate, accessible exercise really does make you feel better. no matter how hard you try to push back against this idea it will remain true. it’s science, babe.
no one is going to magically swoop in and fix everything. that’s on you, bb.
a good habit to develop: take a photo when you unplug your iron, they make great anxiety receipts.
people who judge others’ excitement about interests or desires are the corny ones.
any “wellness” advice that requires you to purchase a product is likely predatory at worst, and a money-making scheme at best.
the way you feel about yourself, your body, and your capabilities is 100-1,000% more critical than how others see you.
you will find your people. your table might be smaller than previously imagined, but it is rich with love, good food, and lively conversation.
if you can avoid it, do not keep a job where you risk your physical, mental, or emotional health.
that thing you’re running from will catch up with you. greeting it with love, care, and compassion, rather than judgment, avoidance, or ridicule, when it shows up on your doorstep will make this inevitability less devastating.
you are special and irreplaceable to your family and friends but not to your employer’s HR department.
there’s no such thing as “coming out late in life” - you get to be who you want to be whenever you want, and that timing is never too late.
your parents are fully dimensional human beings.
with chronic pain, it’s easy to think of your body as an enemy. all you can do is try your best to give it the conditions to prove you wrong. when you do, it will.
being a woman is exhausting.
being surrounded by women is life-giving.
anticipating others’ needs and protecting them from discomfort may feel like love, but it’s not. letting people speak for themselves is.
that friend/ex/acquaintance who ghosted or stopped talking to you has their own deeply nuanced, feeling, and foreign-to-you inner world. no amount of memory culling will give you the closure you need. letting yourself feel the grief, cry it out, and focus your energy on the loving relationships you have is the task at hand.
friendships, like partnerships, take consistent effort and work.
life without alcohol is possible, beautiful, and expansive.
maintaining a daily practice of being a silly little goose is the best antidote to dread.
people can only meet you as deeply as they have ventured within themselves.
taking meds for your brain isn’t a concession or a submission.
our world is unbearably devastating and will continue to be imperfect, violent, and grief-provoking. the work is finding ways to keep yourself alive, feel it all deeply, and stay well enough to make it a little less awful and a little more joyful for someone else.
thanks for being subscribed to my sometimes existing sometimes not-existing newsletter. and if you’re in my life IRL, thank you for supporting me in this season of transition. i love you.
xx,
Brilliant and cathartic. Thanks 😊