Rearranging. 🪂

Welcome to Permission Granted, a newsletter that has existed in one way or another since 2017 and not once in 2022. I’m still trying to work through what “wellness” means in light of all of this [waves hands around]. I turned off paid subscriptions for now. I’d love it if you shared this.

Yesterday, at lunch with a friend, I admitted how deep in my head I’ve gotten about this newsletter. I lamented not knowing what to say, how long it’s been, having lost my voice.

“Maybe people just want to hear from you,” she offered.

Could it be that I’ve overcomplicated this? Me? Never.

So hello. I’ve missed you. That nudge was enough to get me here, deleting the many-times-edited draft that has been sitting in an open tab for months and starting fresh, to say hi.

I want to be in conversation with you, so I’ll start.

Last we talked, I was on the eve of becoming a mother. Since then, I've thought about time and how it moves and slithers. It steals itself away and magically finds a way to stop without warning, and how the aphorisms about long days and short years slip into daily conversation, especially nestled around the warm body of a tiny human. We smile and nod, yes, while we think, "does life feel long or short today?" Long, if we're lucky, if we're lucky, we repeat until we’re sure it feels true.

This has been my most challenging season. It has been a chapter of dashed expectations that I didn’t even know I had. These expectations aren’t spoken aloud (most of the time); they are burrowed deep. They have been planted by our selves, our peers, our never ending feeds of idealized lives where you are *not* given the full picture of the effort involved. I don’t begrudge anyone that image, because I know it is exhausting (and usually expensive) to ~look good on the internet~ but that doesn’t make it simple.

We are supposed to be ascending in our careers while having babies and caring for children while our parents are dying, while our bodies are changing, and our friends are in crisis or celebrating or drifting away while we are creatively stuck or inspired while the world erupts in huge ways. If we’re doing it, it’s so much. And if we’re not, it’s a million tiny failures.

I remind myself that we’re not waiting for something to end. The world doesn't look precisely like "before” and a lot of things were designed for a temporary purpose that has somehow become permanent or forgotten, and we look down and can't quite remember whether anyone ever listened to those stickers on the floor telling us to stay 6 feet apart. 

It’s everything all at once, and it’s not going anywhere. Life is in session.

It took me a while to realize just how much my confidence was shaken by the past couple years. It was destabalized by all the things listed above, the identity shift that came with motherhood, The Assembly aftermath, and so much since. In this phase, it can seem like everyone who was going to succeed already has.

The price of entry is trying. I’m excited to get back into it.

So if that feels familiar, you’re not alone, baby! If this poorly punctuated rambling return to this medium is good for anything, let it be that. We got tumbled around and rolled back out. I don’t have the answers — yet — but I’m going to be an active participant in what happens next.

Because in the end, what seems most likely is that we will always wish we could see more. 

August 2022, when I started the draft of this newsletter.

I cling to people telling me that I haven't changed since the baby, but I have. I have much more sympathy for the ways we are all just trying to fit the pieces together. I look at babies and wonder who they will become. I am in a new body that bears the marks of everything I've done. I want to talk about anything other than her…and sometimes about her. I see businesses started by impressive founders sharing in their collective energy, and I remember the warmth of that buzz and feel so far from it. And, I am shifting, scheming, getting stronger.

I sweep up my daughter in my arms when she reaches toward me, and I wonder, do I know you? Do I know myself anymore? Can any of us know anyone?

Let’s rearrange some things. Life is in session. Let’s have some fun.

I read this again and again. I second guess it all. There’s no way to get back to something other than to start. I’ve got a lot more to say and today there is this. Bandaid ripped. Hi. You’ve heard from me, so I want to hear from you. Right here, right now. I'm listening.

I miss running into you — all of you — and being a part of each others everyday lives. I’m thinking about how to get that back. What should we talk about? What do you want to be confident in again, or for the first time? What do you love today that you didn’t love two years ago?

Permission granted, always, to take care. Take care. Take care.

xo,

Molly

Some recs? A random smattering of things I liked from the past year. There are SO many more though…I will find a way to share them. Maybe on Instagram or something.

• Podcasts of the year: Normal Gossip, Bone Valley

• TV shows I liked that aren’t White Lotus because you already watched that: Bad Sisters, The Bear, Somebody Somewhere, Starstruck

• Kate Berlant’s comedy special on Hulu. Sheng Wang’s comedy special on Netflix.

• This short story D Day by (my friend!) Rachel Khong, which is about friendship and popcorn toppings and humanity. What animal would you choose to become?

• SHOCKINGLY, I didn’t read very much this year. I did cry and enjoy This Time Tomorrow by Emma Straub, which is also short (a current prerequisite).

• This on audiobook.

• These shoes. This dress.

• Having a baby: overall exceeds expectations and I was skeptical!

What’s next — let’s run some races, read some books, scheme, dream, plan, and share. How can I help you?