Our time 🕰
Welcome to Permission Granted, a little corner of the internet carved out to work through what “wellness” means in each of our lives. I want you to feel healthy. I want you to feel free. And I want all of us to think about our place in this world. Stick around and consider upgrading from the monthly to the ~mostly~ weekly edition ($5/month) for more recommendations, links, and insight into how this all gets made. Sometimes I skip a week. It is what it is.
Hi, hello.
I have this t-shirt that sort of yells at you. The back states in bold typeface:
“Don’t look back you’re not going that way!”
It’s encouraging, but a little bit demanding (ok, shirt, calm down!). It’s a perspective that is personally aspirational, though sometimes easier said than felt. I used to wear it to remind myself to keep my eyes forward. In the past year, it’s retreated further and further into the recesses of my t-shirt drawer.
Who am I to tell anyone what way to look? Just stay above water and keep going.
As the world yawns back open and we start to see the shore ahead, the shirt has been on my mind. Do we reach back to bring our old selves forward?
We didn’t have time to mourn the loss of the little identities we left behind — the one who bought a ticket to Bogatá on a moment’s notice, the one who double- and triple-booked her weekend nights, the one who always got reservations at the newest restaurants, or the one who set firm boundaries between being a parent and being an employee. We just stood up and left half cups of coffee next to neglected desk plants, daily calendars forever stuck on March 16, 2020.
We will go back to those places because we can, but that doesn’t mean that we will be the same. This will demand a softness of us, a forgiveness and leniency toward ourselves and each other. My hope is that with a kindness to our past selves, we can see each other in all our current complications. We are different. We are still doing our best.
We are here to treat our past selves with grace, our current selves with patience, and our future selves with curiosity.
When you go back to your old places and realize that it’s you that has changed, it can feel destabilizing. For me, it brings back insecurities from long ago. If I am not that same person anymore, do I fit in here? When it seems like everyone else is seamlessly transitioning between the past and the present, where does that leave those of us who feel stuck somewhere in between?
Maybe that’s you too. I’m giving your arm a squeeze from afar. You’re okay. You're doing this right.
We are losing a framework we have come to understand. Every day we have had the task of living through this pandemic, adapting our brains to a new way of interacting with the world, knowing the rules, getting through it. When we say goodbye to that exacting metric of doing it all correctly, it will be strange. We may be more judgmental than usual or lash out at friends. We may go way too far in one direction (all the parties! All the things!) or stay hiding for longer than we need to (I am happy here. I am safe here.) The point is, we don’t know. There won’t be an ending bell to wake us all up. This won’t look like a “before, during, and after” for a long time.
You don’t have to decide right now what to keep and what to return to. You only have to allow the exploration to unfold.
The friends, managers, and loved ones who have known us one way might always expect that of us, and we can’t blame them for that. It’s human. But the shapes we chose to inhabit and shift into are ours to share with the world.
We are introducing The Achiever, The Performer, The Connector, The Social Being to The Activist, The Homebody, The Sober One, The Self-Sufficient. Past, meet present. Present, meet past.
Sometimes the hardest thing is to feel like a version of yourself that you clung to is slipping away and with that goes the future you had attached to it. For a long time I’ve had this vision of myself walking onto a stage to give a talk. It’s a premonition that I am someone who has something to say. I don’t like speaking in front of crowds. I flush and blush extremely easily. I stumble on my words and tend to ramble, but this flash forward has persisted. This is an embarrassing thing to admit (hello, ego), but I’m sharing it because over the past year, I’ve felt my certainty about that weird, specific, made-up future moment slip out of my grasp.
Maybe I don’t have anything to say after all.
But then I breathe and I reframe it. Just because I have been an entrepreneur or a leader doesn’t mean that I always have to be one. I get to decide, again. It is my past. It may also be my future. But my right now is somewhere in between.
We only understand the timing of our life in retrospect. We don’t know the big picture until we look back on it. We get to assign this meaning in ways that make things fit together. We get to make sense of our own timing, again and again. You don’t need another reflection on what this year has meant for us, what it has done to us. It is far too soon to fully understand what it will look like to connect the dots.
It is also very much still happening. There are pieces of it that will be forever — the ways in which the structures (or lack thereof) have been exposed. And, I hope, the ability to see each other and the experiences we carry more fully.
This pandemic has not stopped the rest of our lives from happening, nor is it the only piece of this seismic shift. These months have magnified the inequities and the insidiousness that runs through the veins of this country. We need to carry all of that forward. It’s no surprise that all of our past selves won’t be able to come as well.
My final thought: we can’t expect ourselves to get it right the first time in this next chapter. All we can do is keep talking about it and trying things.
There is no need to know right now or rush any of it. You can try your past selves on and see if they still fit. You can do this again and again until you find the skin that is right for you, right now.
You are going forward because, as I always say, that’s the only direction. But you can look back when it serves you, when you are sending your old self some love, and when you are introducing all the pieces of your puzzle to each other.
They’ll click in, I promise.
Let’s keep talking about it. Have something to say? Thoughts on this period. I would love to hear them. Remember, you can always email me: askaway@theassembly.com! I answer questions (advice? sure!), share recommendations, and generally love to hear from you.
Thank you. Take good care of yourself.
xo,
Molly
Some things to look at, think about, read, sign up for, try, enjoy, or skip entirely. You do you, always. Permission granted, babe.
My friend Elena Shih wrote this excellent oped for The NY Times titled “How to Protect Massage Workers.” Elena has been studying human trafficking and sex work for decades. In the wake of the shooting in Atlanta last month, Elena helps contextualize some of the larger systems that leave women who work in these establishments vulnerable.
The continued violence against AAPI people, especially the older and vulnerable, is sickening. Remember, the light being shined on these horrifying incidents does not mean that it’s new. We must perpetually expand our understanding of the experiences of everyone in this country. Please continue to do your work on being a support system, donating if you can to organizations dedicated to this community, and staying aware of what is happening (and, of course, reporting any incident you see).
I recently listened to the audiobook version of Breath: The New Science of a Lost Art and have been *very* intent on nose breathing since. I’m working up the nerve to do the overnight mouth taping, which allegedly sounds more intense than it is. AND according to my Instagram responses, many of you are already trying this. Tell me more!
Is there anything less helpful than size guides on websites? I have a lot of appreciation for brands that put effort into making that experience accurate and straightforward. I think the swimsuit brand Left on Friday is best in show on that front — and we all know buying a swimsuit can be ~painful~. Both the real person submitted pics (with lots of color combo inspiration) and the comprehensive fit guide made it a lot (A LOT) better. And I love my suit. Someday I will have a chance to wear it outside of my bedroom.
I traded my tried and true Adidas Ultraboosts for these On Running shoes. I’ll probably end up alternating between the two, but the On’s sturdiness is a welcome change. And yes, I am still in the phase of cleaning them off after every run to keep them white until I decide it’s time to let the wear and tear win. It’s inevitable.
My only ski day this season has been a cross country afternoon that ended in the Truckee Urgent Care with a finger that looked like this (she types with nine functional fingers…), but still, I was happy to be out there in my new bright yellow pants from Halfdays. Women’s outdoor apparel remains annoyingly (to me at least!) pink, teal, and purple, so I was excited to see this female-founded winter wear company with a different take on a color palette.
If I told you that I changed my hair routine based on TikTok, would you hold it against me? Well, thanks in part to “I never knew I had wavy hair” TikTok, part this IGTV with Jennifer Garner and the products she is shilling (Virtue’s 6-in-1 Styler and Healing Oil), a head of hair I’ve always thought was stick-straight now has some waviness? Never stop learning about yourself, people! There are always mysteries within.
Now that I don’t have to carry around a laptop but am gearing up to be out and about more, it’s time for a new backpack. These classic small backpacks by Utility Canvas are perfect for hike/park/exploration. Their blankets are also the best for picnics — let’s picnic soon.
My friend Sarah Lacy has been creating some incredible courses over at Chairman Mom. I’m particularly impressed by her New Media Masters and Radical Equality offerings.
Currently reading: Interior Chinatown.
BOOK CLUB: Yolk by Mary H.K. Choi. Yes, this book is categorized as young adult, but I never let that stop me. I’m excited to read this with you. Let’s meet Sunday, April 25 at 4pm PT. Sign up here (new flow, hopefully easier)!
I think we can all use a little compersion. xoxo.
**Final note. I have been following the situation at substack and I am figuring out whether I stay here or find a new home for this newsletter. It has been on my mind and I don’t take it lightly.**