It's been a while, and there is nothing as daunting and exciting as sitting down at your desk on a Saturday morning before the world wakes up, taking your place before your keyboard with a cup of coffee (that's now lukewarm, by the way).
Some 399 of you have been here for a while, since the
beginning, and some of you are new. I welcome you all to this new iteration and evolution of my newsletter, which has taken many forms – from a
book launch to a
journaling series to now, a personal letter.
This is a returning — to myself and to the page — a homecoming.
I've been having quite the social dilemma. I am the kind of person who has
shared my life with the internet since I was 12. I know firsthand how powerful it can be; how it can bring new people together and bound old friendships like a book spine. It can provide perspective. It can provide information. It can provide entertainment, and community. And all of that is real. But if that's true, then why does it feel so artificial to me lately?
The version of me you see on your phone screen, whether we have spent time together in the flesh or we are total strangers (for now, that can always change), isn't necessarily false. But it just felt like lot of fucking work. And I got
tired.
Tired of feeling like everything is an announcement. Tired of wondering if I told every single friend about that big thing before they found out on social media, or if I replied to a text message from yesterday before I posted. Tired of wondering why that group of people didn't invite me and wondering if I would hurt someone's feelings because they weren't invited. I was tired of coming up with the right words, and in the perfect or not-so-perfect amount of characters. Are you tired of hearing about how tired I am yet?
Here, it feels so much easier to say this: last weekend my grandma passed away and I will never be the same again. I started the new year with COVID and was very sick for 14 days despite being boosted. I am scared I've done the wrong thing, but I'm also scared that I've done the right thing which means it's going to be lonely for a little bit while I sort out who is really there for me. I can say it simply and as fact, and I don't have to wrap it up with a bow or explanation. Or a freaking picture.
I've never shied away from my life being messy, but social media has felt like less and less of the ideal place to share that mess because it has to be packaged perfectly. And I really don't like perfect. I like sprawling spaces with lots of room to explore. So I'm getting cozy here.
I am happy to return to this space because it feels intimate and it's mine. It’s not an exclusive space, because anyone can sign up, of course, but I kind of like knowing that at least here, someone has to take the extra step to care. Or be really nosy. Either way, it's safer and warmer to me. That gives me hope. That gives me peace.
I don't know how often these will come out or what form they will take (maybe weekly? Bi-weekly?). But I hope to never worry about making these too long or too short; only to make them what they need to be. I want to live in my own head and space for a little longer. I kind of like it here.
