I'm bringing unsexy back. Yeah.

Reporting from the field of unfolding

I’ve been putting off writing this post. The words don’t come as well as they used to. I think it feels especially hard in the beginning of this Substack—where I’m still getting to know this space and how I’ll best use it. It’s like moving into a new home with its quirky features that you don’t yet know how to work around or with.

Where do I put my desk so that it has a good Zoom background and near a window with good lighting but also near an outlet and will provide the *perfect* conditions for amazing work?

It’s almost too expansive. I don’t yet know where the edges of the container are–and I haven’t yet created them myself.

I think the struggle comes from not knowing where to begin and how much to share to “catch you up” to where I am today. It’s like hopping on a treadmill that has already started moving—I take a tentative step forward and hope you all can hop on with ease right behind me.

A few weeks ago, I asked a few close and trusted friends what they would love to see me write and share about. That was a fascinating exercise, by the way, and I highly recommend it to anyone who is considering posting on the internet. One of the things that a friend shared was that she would love to see more people writing from the middle—from the space in progress. She said:

“We only talk about life when we have a story to tell with a beginning, middle, and an end. I want to hear more of life BEFORE it works out. Life as it’s unfolding.”

I assured her that that’s all I’ve got right now. A story that is very much unfolding, in progress, in the messy middle, without the satisfying climax or meaning-making that only comes from hindsight.

Obviously, that isn’t quite true. I’ve got plenty of stories to tell that have already unfolded and have meaning from which I can derive. And I do plan to share some of those. But life right now feels very much like the middle—in the space before it “works out.”

One of the “gifts” from my cancer journey was the ability (and the need) to slow wayyyyy the eff down. And I hated it. Every second of it—because every second felt like an eternity and yet I simultaneously felt like I was watching my life pass me by. Eventually, at different times, I would humbly accept my surrender and get a respite from my suffering.

But when I finished my treatment, there was a huge wave of activity—of movement, almost instantaneously—that I felt like I was finally experiencing the fling forward part of the slingshot effect.

I met one of my boy band idols. I went on an amazing girls’ trip to Charleston. I unexpectedly went on a survivor’s trip to Italy and spent a week in London on my own—all while knowing I had another pre-planned Euro trip just two months later. It was a whirlwind of much needed joy and healing.

But I suspected that once my Eat, Pray, Love journey (that didn’t involve any love or prayer, really, so mostly eating journey) ended, the reality of Life After would start setting in. I dubbed it my “Fourth Trimester,” and I was right.

I felt the gaping hole where tapped-out friends once filled.

I felt the slight strain of finances again after my GoFundMe buffer started to run out.

I felt the impact of a changed body on my self-confidence.

I felt the lack of any real connection on the dating apps upon my hopeful return.

I felt the weight of existential questions I already had in the Before Times but were now magnified x10, like “Where do I want to live? What do I want to do with my life and my career? Who am I now? What do I even want?”

I felt the whiplash of moving so quickly from anguish to joy and landing in some random field on a bed of scratchy hay somewhere in between.

For a while, I felt like I was managing the overwhelm of this new season fairly well. I hired an amazing coach, committed to more of a regular writing practice, and got into more of a rhythm with movement and strength training.

I wanted to move faster, answer those big questions NOW, get going on the changes that would shift my reality to something more sustainably satisfying, but after a year of slowing way down, I had to actively retrain my brain and my body to operate from somewhere in between. To feel safe doing more and putting myself out there in new ways, but also not push myself too far.

Just like I haven’t yet found the edges of this writing container, I haven’t quite figured out the edges of my capacity either.

The impact of this past year and the overwhelm of everything since finally caught up to me—and I decided to hit pause on my weekly coaching to give myself a breather. One of the things my coach and I talked about in that last session was how I was finally committed—however begrudgingly—to the deeply unsexy, super small, incremental steps in a way that past ambitious me wouldn’t normally operate. She reminded me:

“Everyone wants to skip to the shiny, exciting, fun part. No one wants to do this part—when the steps are so boring and so small that you can’t yet see the progress you’re creating. But this is the stuff that is going to get you to where you want to be and sustain it.”

I didn’t necessarily choose the unsexy life—it chose me 😂

I’ll be the first to tell you that this season is not the most fun. It’s not the agony of watching life pass me by but it’s also not the thrill of a dream realized or the relief of a clear direction.

But this is where I am. I am here, in the middle, in the in between, in progress. The shift is so tiny that you can miss it if you’re not paying attention, but it’s happening—at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

So if you’re here, too, welcome. Let’s hold hands and complain a little before we cheer each other on. Half agony, half hope.

Things I’m Loving in this Unsexy Season:

• In my endless quest to be the Cool Aunt, I’m making my niece a dress for her 7th birthday coming up. She requested a twirly dress, naturally, with long sleeves and a long skirt and either a ruffle or puff sleeve. She likes the colors “pink, purple, baby blue, violet, and light violet.” And she wants cheetahs (not the print, but the animal) or flowers or snowflakes. And sparkles. I can’t deliver on all of her wishes, as much as it pains me, but I did find this ADORABLE fabric from Spoonflower that checks many of these boxes and plan on making the long-sleeved version of this free Madeline dress from Sweet Red Poppy. Wish me luck!

• Checking my Spotify daylist as it changes throughout the day and week. So far, my favorites include “main character millennial monday afternoon,” and “magical soundtrack evening.” (Praying that when you click it, it’s not something terribly embarrassing but accurate like “casual demon barber of fleet street fridays”)

• Bidding on random (but very intentionally selected) shit on M@c Bid¹, including this delightful sauna blanket I got for $55, this T3 hair dryer brush that makes me actually want to blow out my curly hair more often for $52, and this food chopper that was on my Christmas list and works GREAT for $8! The HIGH. The THRILL! I’m hoping to get a walking pad next.²

• Reading a friend’s brilliant WIP for her debut novel and giving feedback that makes her cry in joy and then send texts like this. ⬇️ If you want someone’s eyes on your draft—novel or otherwise—send me a message!

  

1. M@c Bid is basically an auction site for Amazon returns that’s local to Pittsburgh with some locations in OH, NC, and SC. It’s a risk, so not all items end up working out, but you can usually get a really great deal on stuff! Highly recommend cutting yourself off at some point because it’s addicting.

2. This post may contain affiliate links. That means that I may earn a commission if you make a purchase through one of these links, at no extra cost to you.