#38 on a personal note
how's life? messy and okay
It was my birthday a few days ago. I’ve been out of a job for almost six months. Sobering news keeps pouring in, and I go in and out of experiencing losses more closely. In times like this, can we not ask what’s the point to any of these? Maybe a more worthwhile framing: How do I want to live this very fragile life?
In the wave of mass layoffs, I lost my job in April. Now I wouldn’t even want to look at my screen time on LinkedIn, both hoping I never have to open it again and wanting what comes with acing that Top Voice game. One thing I can say: Do not recommend going on it after midnight, gives you the mares.
While trying my best to open doors and pave the paths that are true to me, I remind myself to trust the process, manifest—the antidotes you offer someone who’s going through a limbo in persistent pursuit. There’s no one way to do things, and that’s the thing: I’ve had to question everything about life and my reality, the whole ‘meaning’ thing. Between wanting A Job Real Bad to exploring what it might be like to be a freelancer, there’s a nagging, deafening, voice: I Really Want To Write.
Then I wrote:
I realise I keep writing about why I write, and that’s because in ways big and small, I’ve learnt to self-censor, refrain, over clarify for the fear of not being understood—or worse, misunderstood. Then writing about it, rather than writing it, becomes a tonic to understand why I keep at it, as much as it is a reminder to do it even when it feels scary. I’m always on the watch for criticism, though lately I get that it’s futile to get a consensus or to be well-liked or celebrated, if you don’t feel in full alignment with what you choose to say or do.
This season, I want to let my writing be what it wants to. Throw ‘branding’ and ‘positioning’ out of the window. It is, like all things, meant to change and morph. Even if it feels directionless, at least letting it out lets it find its way. The personal is messy and it’s okay.
They always say writers write the same story over and over. When you look at a lifetime of writing, it seems clear that most people have a deep core story they tell over and over. But that’s also the fun, trying to find the new way to say these same things. And if you ever felt like you truly said what it is you’re trying to say, you probably would stop writing. So you never quite can get it all down. So that’s the exciting part, and the aggravating part, that’s what keeps us going anyway.
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on The Creative IndependentI’ve been thinking: How do I see writing as a (career) path? What’s next for this newsletter? What stories are important for me to share on here? How can I bring you along on this journey?
These, in the midst of the past six months of humbly-terrifyingly living the questions, together with multiple conversations with my partner, clarified something for me. For reasons to get into another day, I don’t feel deserving of having a ‘voice’, therefore I diminish it, only reserving my writing to amplify others. Consequently, for someone who wishes we could all be more real, vulnerable, honest, I’ve shunned away in doubt and fear.
So with the one year mark of writing this newsletter, and in the spirit of my birthday (which always beckons mixed emotions), I thought I’ll take the chance to let in more of my voice, as a start to what might be a more balanced newsletter of personal essays and interviews.
On here, I want to share reflections from things I see and overhear, the very many tensions of living, my half-baked thoughts about business, work... The things we pay close attention to, I think, are fascinating and wonderful and worth our time.
Like the one habit I’ve stuck to for the last 92 weeks; what I’ve realised about when it is I perform at my best (and I suspect you too); how I felt the days following a neighbour’s death; and the reckoning of being everything that one is, and with that, why “becoming more and more me” might be the most meaningful growth indicator for me. I don’t know when I’ll find the words for some of these but hopefully they’ll come.
I hope that stories I share here make you feel braver and less alone. If only we can somehow foster connection over comparison. To be another reminder for us that beyond the ‘SEO’s and ChatGPT, the easy virality of TikTok and humble brags on LinkedIn, some of the best parts of life are unoptimisable, messy, soul-filled, and felt in your gut. And if you, like me, have been made to feel like you’re too much, I hope you listen to that nagging, deafening, voice inside of you.
Thank you for reading, I appreciate you! If you’ve any thoughts, I’d love to know in the comments or a reply. Also…
Birthday special: 40% off paid subscription
In celebratory spirit, I would love to extend my appreciation to you for supporting my work. Upgrade to a paid sub now for 40% off, so that’s only $3/month for weekly stories. This is one of the best ways you can support my writing, as I, frankly, figure out if this can be a viable path. This also unlocks the full archive and paid-only posts soon to come.
See you next week! I’ll be back with an interview with Kim D’Aria, the founder of netnets.