Welcome to Permission Granted, a newsletter that has existed in one way or another since 2017 and not once in 2022. Iām still trying to work through what āwellnessā means in light of all of this [waves hands around]. I turned off paid subscriptions for now. Iād love it if you shared this.
Yesterday, at lunch with a friend, I admitted how deep in my head Iāve gotten about this newsletter. I lamented not knowing what to say, how long itās been, having lost my voice.
āMaybe people just want to hear from you,ā she offered.
Could it be that Iāve overcomplicated this? Me? Never.
So hello. Iāve 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 Iāll 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 weāre sure it feels true.
This has been my most challenging season. It has been a chapter of dashed expectations that I didnāt even know I had. These expectations arenāt 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 donāt begrudge anyone that image, because I know it is exhausting (and usually expensive) to ~look good on the internet~ but that doesnāt 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 weāre doing it, itās so much. And if weāre not, itās a million tiny failures.
I remind myself that weāre not waiting for something to end. The world doesn't look precisely like "beforeā 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.Ā
Itās everything all at once, and itās 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.Ā Iām excited to get back into it.
So if that feels familiar, youāre 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 donāt have the answers āĀ yet āĀ but Iām 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.Ā
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 herā¦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?
Letās rearrange some things. Life is in session. Letās have some fun.
I read this again and again. I second guess it all. Thereās no way to get back to something other than to start. Iāve got a lot more to say and today there is this. Bandaid ripped. Hi. Youāve heard from me, so I want to hear from you. Right here, right now. I'm listening.
I miss running into you āĀ all of you āĀ and being a part of each others everyday lives. Iām 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 didnāt 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 thoughā¦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 arenāt White Lotus because you already watched that: Bad Sisters, The Bear, Somebody Somewhere, Starstruck
Kate Berlantās comedy special on Hulu. Sheng Wangās 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 didnāt read very much this year. I did cry and enjoy This Time Tomorrow by Emma Straub, which is also short (a current prerequisite).
Having a baby: overall exceeds expectations and I was skeptical!
Whatās next ā letās run some races, read some books, scheme, dream, plan, and share. How can I help you?
"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 weāre doing it, itās so much. And if weāre not, itās a million tiny failures." It's so much, it really it. Thank you for articulating this <3
Your words about all the things we are supposed to be doing, while the world changes and personal lives ebb and flow, really resonated with me. Well said. It reminded me of the quote below. Thank you for sharing, and welcome back!
"Our next life will always cost us this one. If we are truly alive, we are constantly losing who we just were, what we just built, what we just believed, what we just knew to be true. What I lose is always what is no longer true enough so that I can take full hold of what is". - Glennon Doyle