Waiting On A New Normal: Navigating Your Mindset When You Feel In-Limbo.

Waiting On A New Normal: Navigating Your Mindset When You Feel In-Limbo.

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(****really important note: this is not a post about waves or policies. this is about what you might be experiencing internally — a feeling stuckness or waiting, despite “logically knowing” you could be acting and feeling otherwise.)

 

 

 

Two years ago this week, I posted this:


A snippet from the caption:

“Today’s Micro Shift For A Mega Difference: Replace NEW NORMAL with FOR-NOW NORMAL.

NOW Normal isn’t the same as THEN Normal. And it’s definitely not the same as what Normal WILL BE months from now, when the dust settles, we emerge from our doors, and enter a post-pandemic society. And hug. It’ll be so, so wonderful to hug.

The words we choose to describe the time we’re in *matter.* Saying that this is our “New Normal” implies that the Now is the Forever…which it’s definitely not.”

Welp, it’s two years later. We have emerged from our doors. Hugs are a thing.

So why does it feel like we’re still waiting for something to happen?

 

PART 1: THE FORGETTING.

Okay, let me amend that: so why does it still feel like *a lot of us are* waiting for something to happen? I don’t want to assume what your life has been like, or is like, or how you’re feeling in this moment. But if the conversations I’ve been having and posts I’ve been seeing on social media are any indication of what’s going on beyond the walls of my own brain, then it’s pretty clear to me that a lot of us are still waiting for this New Normal people were talking about so often a few years back. Stuck in an interminable limbo.

Waiting.

Adjusting.

Planning, just enough.

Acting, just enough.

Waiting.

Waiting.

On a call with my therapist the other day, I admitted to her that I didn’t have vivid memories of the past year or so. This, I told her, was alarming to me. Because this, I told her, was something I’d experienced before. And as someone whose memory is usually crystal-clear (one friend likes to tell me that I remember her childhood better than she does. we met well into adulthood, I just know all her family’s stories and inside jokes), the fact that my memory presents itself as fuzzy and vague is, I told her, a big red flag that something is very off. The last time I experienced this on an intense level, after all, was in college — a time when my life felt so unlike my own that I ended up developing multiple eating and body-related disorders. And while I thankfully haven’t been even so much as flirting with any of those destructive avenues this time around, there’s one thing that I do realize I’ve been doing:

I’ve been shutting down and going through the motions.

 

Relationship therapists and mental health communities will often talk about “avoidant” attachment style, a pattern of behavior within relationships where the person disconnects from their own expression of needs and feelings and becomes overly independent. Others will talk about shutting down emotionally as a response to feeling overstimulated and not knowing how to handle it. I always like to get curious about relationship patterns and studies when I’m dealing with my own inner stuff — if the most important relationship you’ll ever have is the relationship you have with Your Self, wouldn’t it make sense that (at least some of) the same advice and findings might (at least some of the time) apply to that mega-important relationship, too?

You can logically know what you want to do, how you want to do it, every single step on the 200-step list to get you where you want to be. But logic won’t get you everywhere.

“It’s like I put up a physical wall,” I told my therapist, illustrating the wall in front of me with my hand gestures. “I don’t feel any which way about the wall — not angry, not sad. I logically know that I want to walk around the corner of the wall and keep moving forward; the corner’s right there. But it’s like there’s something inside of me that just won’t do it — that’s telling me it’s not the time yet.”

“It sounds to me,” she said gently after some thought, “like your strategy of shutting down and therefore not really remembering is a protective strategy. Is that maybe it? You’re doing your best to get yourself through tough times.”

As I think about this interminable in-limbo, this For-Now Normal I’m so eager to transition into a New one, I have to remind myself over and over again that this is the thing.

For all of us.

We are doing our best to get ourselves through tough times. And I think where we’ve been getting tripped up is thinking that this tough time isn’t supposed to be as tough as it is.

If we’re not in the Before anymore and we’re not in the After yet, we ask ourselves — then why does it feel like we’ve been wherever HERE is for so long?

“Maybe,” I mused to my therapist, a cartoon lightbulb popping over my head, “I’ve needed this moment of checking out a little to help me reset for whatever comes next.”

 

PART 2: THE MOTIONS

Here’s the thing. Transitions, are usually just as tough if not tougher than all the Befores and Afters. Even if we feel as if we’re on the precipice of the other side, that doesnt meant it’ll all the sudden be easy. And even if we’re in a transitional *moment,* that doesn’t mean that *moment* is a quick one.

My expectations formed in 2020 — of a smooth and quick transition from the Before to the After — did not match up with the reality of the During that’s been 2021/22, and that’s both my own doing AND not something to shame myself for. I’m pragmatically positive, looking at the truths in front of me and choosing to believe the ones that feel proactive, not reactive. This is what prevents me from going to those deeper and darker places when times get tough. I’m grateful that my pragmatically positive outlook has carried me through the last few years. And if that part of me needed a transitional moment of “going through the motions” of life in order to clear the slate for whatever’s next, I’m here for it.

That’s not to say if you get into a pattern of habitually checking out, tuning out, or going through the motions, it’s always okay or healthy. That’s why I brought it up to my therapist!

But if you’re someone who is used to always being ON, always having PLANS, always STRIVING REACHING SCHEMING with motivation and drive for days, and over the last couple years, has been HUSTLING SUPER HARD physically mentally and emotionally just to keep your mojo going…well, maybe this moment is a sign that your mojo just wants a nap.

Having high productivity, drive, and vision 24/7 isn’t just not-sustainable, it’s not how a full life works. Life is a mix of highs, lows, and everything in between. The thing that matters is that you focus on responding to and/or maximizing the moment you’re in instead of escaping it. It’s kind of like your classes in high school: maybe you lived for English class and poured your soul into every essay — but you still had to pass Chemistry, which you found boring and aggravating, to graduate.

It’s okay to love some times and go through the motions in others.

That doesn’t mean you’re failing.

It means you’re human.

 

PART 3: THE (FOR) NOW

I’ve started to believe even stronger in the concept of the For-Now Normal, and believe in it in a different way than before.

What if these past two years — and this past year, especially — has been a call-to-action for all of us to remember that every “Normal” has a “For Now” in front of it?

That things can be both temporary and interminably long at the same time?

That as long as you’re not causing yourself of others harm, doing your best to get yourself through a tough time is sometimes the best you can do in the current For Now, before the next For Now comes along?

I’m not telling you to subject yourself to a life of waiting. Be proactive, not reactive. 

And I’m also not telling you that every single thing in your life is a matter of choice. Life is a waltz between circumstance and choice, where at any moment one can take over the leading steps.

All I’m saying is that you, dear reader, dear friend, are in the midst of one of many of your For Nows. 

When you become tempted to tell yourself mean things about the season you’re in, remind yourself:

“The Now is not the Forever. It never is. Sometimes things come easily, some times are tough. I’ve gone through many seasons before this and will go through many seasons after this. What matters right now is that I honor where I am, knowing that where I’m going is just another moment away.”

Do the best with where you’re at, and the best for whatever’s next.

Your For Now is for now, just like your next For Now will be too.

Honoring where you are now allows you to practice honoring where you will be.

Trust it.

 

 


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Laughable Plans: Finding Control When There Feels Like None.

Laughable Plans: Finding Control When There Feels Like None.

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If you Google search “top 10 most stressful life events,” there are a few repeat offenders that pop up on list after list. Death of a loved one. Marriage. Divorce. Starting a new job or losing a current one. Financial problems. 

And then, there’s MOVING.

For the last few months, this one’s been my Stressful Life Event de Jour. And not just moving. Buying.

(*and yes, it’s admittedly a HUGELY privileged Stressful Life Event to even be able to buy — especially in New York City, which has been touted as one of the hardest places to buy due to its many….uh…let’s just call them *quirky* barriers to entry.)

But this letter to you today isn’t about buying a home: it’s about everything else it’s been bringing up for me, and I suspect life has been bringing up for you, too.

PART 1: LAUGHABLE PLANS.

Let me give you some context: I am no stranger to moving. For the majority of my adult life, I moved almost every single year. I think my own personal record was around 2009-2011, where I somehow fit four apartments into a span of 2.5 years.  And then I met Jeremy and started living in apartments for 2-3 years at a time. Apartments that didn’t feel like a “place” — they felt like a home.

About a year ago, we decided that after all these feelings of “home,” it was time to actually make moves and buy one of our own. Knowing a more permanent situation was on the horizon, we decided to take advantage of the “Covid deals” in the city and rent one last time. I don’t have kids (well, human kids — Frankie totally counts!), but I imagine the mindset we had was similar to that of pre-parents who take a “babymoon” before life changes forever: our plan was to have an “adventure year” in an area of the city we’d probably be priced out of during any other moment in time, while saving a bit more in the meantime. You know. Have one last “hurrah” before a new chapter began. Especially because, of course, things in the world would “get better” soon.

Well, there’s an old Yiddish saying. “We plan, God laughs.”

So, you’re welcome for the comedy show, God/universe/whatever you want to call it.

Without getting into all the nitty-gritty details of every single not-exactly-hurrah-worthy event, what I’ve finally realized is that after two years of SO much uncertainty and lack of control over the state of the world, I think we thought we could “control” our way out of it all. That we could put a surplus of concrete plans in place like in “before times” and it beat the system.

What’s ironic is that the surplus of plans we put in place actually worked in the opposite way we wanted them to. Instead of providing us with more security and ease, they made us more on edge and unsettled than ever. We weren’t loving our neighborhood. The pandemic was faaaaaaar from over. Buying was proving to be even harder than the “hard” we thought it would be. Maybe in a different time it would have all panned out differently, but we don’t live in another time. We live now. Everything began to feel fragile and calculated. 

What’s even more ironic is that it all felt exponentially harder to work through mentally and emotionally than in 2020, the year so many of our lives literally changed overnight, and so many of us felt like we had the most uncertainty.

PART 2: AFTERSHOCKS.

If you’re nodding your head, I want you to know that you’re a) human, and b) not alone. When you have so much uncertainty thrown your way for so long (and two years is definitely so long!), any opportunity to seize control can feel like not only a lifeline but the rarest of opportunities.

It’s not that uncertainty is the enemy, though. Or control, for that matter!! It’s not as simple as good vs. bad. Both certainty and uncertainty have their pros and cons, sometimes in the same breath.

But as a recovering perfectionist AND recovering self-help junkie, I’ve historically had a tendency to either think that you need to totally control every aspect of something in order for it to “work out,” or you need to completely let go. The latter being a favorite of self-help culture: everything happens for a reason, blah blah etc etc.

This is obviously not how life works. You can’t just always have one thing all the time.

So what do you do when you feel like you have no control at all and everything’s spinning haphazardly?

The answer to lack of control, I’ve learned, isn’t total control. It’s finding a way to feel (and stay, even?) grounded while the floor shakes under you and the aftershocks keep rolling. And I’m from Southern California. I KNOW earthquakes. When I was seven, an earthquake hit our city so big that entire houses fell off of their foundation. My friend Joey’s whole house was flooded. My aunt (pregnant with my cousin Ben, so also, my cousin Ben) had to literally climb out a window to get out of her house because the doors were blocked with debris. Phone lines went down, electricity went out, and parts of the freeway collapsed. People died. This was 1994 pre-social media, when all we had were newspapers, TV, and radio — the latter of the two you might not have had access to if your power had gone out. So for days, so many of us….just….didn’t know….so much.

And the aftershocks kept rolling.

But we got up. We got creative. We did what we could. We helped where we could. We climbed out windows and rebuilt freeways and mourned the losses while we moved forward, knowing very well the ground could start shaking again at any moment.

Whether it’s an earthquake, a globally traumatic event, a relationship beginning (or ending), a job ending (or beginning), or a move, there are times in life that present us with what feels like more not-knowing than we can handle.

Whenever I feel like “nothing” is certain and I start to not only fear but expect the proverbial aftershocks of a moment in time way outside of my control, I do ONE thing that IS.

Whether it’s moving my body in the warmth of my little living room on a cold day, or being intentional with my words during a difficult conversation, or doing that one thing I’ve been putting off for weeks  — that little thing ALWAYS brings me back to myself.

No, it doesn’t fix the situation at hand. But it reminds me I have a sliver of agency, during a time when I often forget I do — and that control isn’t an all-or-nothing event.

PART 3: THE DANCE.

I said earlier that there were multiple “not-exactly-hurrah-worthy” events over the course of the last year. But what I didn’t mention is that there were plenty of “hurrah-worthy” ones, too. Going to the theatre more than ever. Cooking so many new, delicious meals. Home workouts (who knew they’d become so fun?!). Weekend mornings uptown. Midday coffee breaks in Madison Square Park and Washington Square Park and Fifth Avenue. Runs through the streets of Chelsea and Soho. Multiple big work WINS. New friends. 

The thing that all of these moments have in common is that they weren’t in the plans. Even the things I DID expect to happen and DID plan for didn’t happen on the timeline I’d set for myself. I had control in the moment, but that control didn’t come from a strict guidebook I was following. The uncertainty actually enhanced these experiences, come to think of it. I appreciated them more. And eventually, allowed myself to go with the flow with the other stuff rather than fighting the tide.

I have no new news to report on the homebuying front, other than the fact that I’m finding peace in doing what I can and then letting the rest be. Like in life. Sometimes control will be there, and sometimes it won’t. Trying to force everything to line up perfectly isn’t the answer — but neither is letting go so much that you’ve lost the hope and joy that comes with expectations. You’ll be able to control certain things, but not all the things. Internalizing and accepting the presence of both those things as simultaneous truths is key to making the moments matter. An investment in both the attachment and non-attachment. An ability to move forward with plans and accepting they might not work out but moving forward anyway.

So many times we try to control our way into the fullest, truest life we can imagine.

But a full and true life isn’t about being in total control.

It’s about controlling what you can, then letting the rest unfold.

A dance between knowing and not-knowing.

 

gaining control uncertainty

I Will Still Do Well: Reimagining Goal-Setting When You’re In The Middle Of Burnout

I Will Still Do Well: Reimagining Goal-Setting When You’re In The Middle Of Burnout

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There’s this one old Oprah video from 1986 I’ve become obsessed with over the last few years. I’ve watched it so many times I have it memorized and tattooed onto my brain. The exchange goes like this:


HOST: So this show is just getting underway nationally—

OPRAH: (nods) It will do well.

HOST: And if it doesn’t?

OPRAH: And if it doesn’t *I* will STILL do well. I will do well because I’m not defined by a show. I think we are defined by the way we treat ourselves and the way we treat other people. It would be wonderful to be acclaimed as this talk show host that’s made it. That would be wonderful. But if that doesn’t happen, there are other important things in my life.

 

 

It’s been a while since I’ve posted on here.

Yeah, yeah, I know. I feel like I’m probably not the only one in your life who’s saying those words right now. Maybe you’re even saying them to yourself. About places you’ve gone, stuff you’ve done, people you’ve seen, or things you’ve felt.

It’s. been. a. while.

Usually when January rolls around, I’m fired up about helping you (and myself, tbh) combat what I call Resolution Season: that time of year when goal-setting feels obligatory, *hEaLtHy hABiTs* are trending, and many of us generally feel pressured to do-change-become SO MUCH at once, and fast. When this usually happens, I like to give you alternatives to the Resolution Season rush so that you feel empowered, not frantic — and so that you avoid the inevitable burnout that comes when you try and force too much on yourself at once.

This year is different: Burnout’s already here.

If your IRL community sounds anything like mine right now, you’re probably hearing (or at the very least sensing) that a whole heck-ton of us are at the ends of our ropes.

And if your social media feeds, fitness studios, supermarkets, or favorite wellness-adjacent apps look anything like mine, you’re probably noticing that the annual push for NEW YEAR NEW YOU doesn’t feel alluring like it maybe has in the past. It doesn’t even feel annoying.

It feels downright insensitive.

 

I will STILL do well.

 

I don’t sugarcoat things here. If you’ve been visiting WANT for a while (some of you have been here almost 7 years!!), you know I won’t try to convince you to feel any way other than how you feel, and won’t lie to you about how I’m feeling, either. 

If you’ve been saying to yourself “It’s been a while,” I want you to know you are NOT alone. I know this because I’m with you. Sometimes it feels like it’s been a while since I was fully at ease. It feels like it’s been a while since I was fired up and motivated to crush a goal. Heck, it feels like it’s been a while since I felt like I was “crushing” anything. After so much stop-and-go hope and letdown this past year+++ — from looking forward to then canceling big family gatherings, to stopping and starting work, to planning, promoting, then postponing my very first retreat and more — I am exhausted. Creating a big list of pie-in-the-sky goals right now, for me, feels masochistic. Almost cruel. Like I’m setting myself up for letdown by “positivity-ing” myself into a dead end.

As someone who actually DOES want to look forward with excitement and possibility (and yes, maybe some goals too), I’ve begun to ask myself:

How the heck do you start setting goals when you feel like you’ve got so much recent “proof” that reaching your goals isn’t really up to you in the first place?

 

I will STILL do well.

 

How you start is by remembering why you do it all in the first place.

All my life I’ve heard the refrain “It’ll be worth it in the end” when faced with frustration, pain, or uncertainty. There’s a part of that that’s true, and. I don’t believe the feeling you get when you get where you’re going needs to be the *only* prize there is. I believe you can get clear on how you want to approach frustration, pain, or uncertainty and make THAT APPROACH your goal. Even before you know what the challenge or destination is.

I believe the unfolding of the journey can be the destination.

I believe it all can be “worth it” in the now.

I don’t need a specific *thing* in mind to work toward this year. I just need to know how I want to feel while I’m working toward whatever it ends up being.

Ease.

Simplicity.

Confidence.

Trust.

Those things, to me, are “goals” that transcend ages or achievements. They’re qualities I want to cultivate in my life whether I’m 35 or 95. And they’re the things, I suspect, that will actually end up defining me in the long run.

 

I will STILL do well.

 

Whether it’s a workout you do, a dissertation you write, a meal you cook, an application you send, or — in the case of Oprah circa 1986 — a show you launch, see what happens if this year, you focus less on what you get OUT of it and more about how you go INTO it.

The beauty of this shift? It prevents one thing from being your everything. It takes the pressure off of it to be perfect, and instead focuses on cultivating mental and emotional habits you can apply anywhere in your life, for your entire life.

The goal isn’t the thing you go after.

The goal is how you go after it.


May this moment be the one we release the image of how things “should” be, and what goals “should” look like, and embrace the reality of who we’ll be no matter where the winds blow us.

Things might go according to plan, or not.

It might do well, or it might not do well.

But YOU will do well.

No matter what.

And that’s what matters. 

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Mistake Resilience: How To Recover From A Case of “I Should Have Known Better”

Mistake Resilience: How To Recover From A Case of “I Should Have Known Better”

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Do you ever have those things that happen where you’re like, “Ugh, why did I do that?! I should have known better” ??

Like…

…Forgetting to add the salt in the cookies you grew up baking.
…Signing on the wrong dotted line when you’ve been signing contracts for years.
…Those plans you impulsively said YES to that always drain you for days after.

Whether it’s a recipe you’ve made a hundred times or an industry you’ve been in for literal decades, having experience in something doesn’t mean you’re immune to a flub-up.

And the more experience you have, the more likely you are to fall prey to this specific negative self-talk — I Should Have Known Better — and all the negative self-talk that follows it:

I’m such an idiot.

What a rookie move.

How could you do that?!

Sound familiar? I know it well. I experienced it this week, actually…

moments before “the incident.”

 

Over the last few weeks — ok, last few months — I’ve alluded to the fact that I’ve been having some difficulty with my mental health (as I think a lot of us have been having!). My anxiety has been flaring up so hardcore that it’s been close to impossible to get most things done — and the things that HAVE gotten done, it’s taken all my energy to do them.

So when I finally started to feel a wave of relief, I knew I wanted to tackle something important to me that had been suffering: my podcast.

I started the WANTcast six years ago when I was busy simultaneously working a full-time job, teaching 8 spin classes a week, and spending at least three hours in my car every single day just to get from one place to another.

But no matter what my schedule has looked like, the WANTcast has always stayed a priority since it launched in 2015.

So the fact that I didn’t have it in me to publish a new episode for a whole MONTH, without warning, was wildly out of the ordinary.

The second I started to feel more like myself, I was determined to get “back on track.” I put all the pieces into place, and I finally pressed “publish” on the first new episode in a month last Friday.

WE’RE BACK, BABY!! I squealed to myself in my mind. I geeked out about it on social media, feeling pumped to be in my groove again after an unexpected hiatus, and went on my way.

Cut to Monday, when I’m taking a morning run and decide to listen back to the episode again. (I always love listening purely for enjoyment after everything is up and running and I’m far out of editor-mode.)

I press play and hear the intro music, a wave of relief hitting me that I finally did the damn thing. I’m so jazzed — I’ve listened to this interview about four times already. It’s REALLY GOOD. I’m so proud of myself for getting it out to listeners and so excited they get to enjoy it.

I hear myself talking…

…and then I hear a long pause.

Oh no.

I hear myself clear my throat.

OH NO.

And then, I hear myself taking the loudest, slurpiest GUUULLLP of water right into the microphone.

What happened, exactly?

I’d been so pumped to get the episode out, I’d totally spaced on editing the first 45 seconds.

Which is really the first 15 seconds if you don’t count the intro music.

The LITERAL period of time it usually takes people to pass a judgement on whatever they’re listening to.

Great.
Just great.

Luckily, because I do most everything myself, I know how to go back and edit shit like that out. My run became a sprint as I booked it home and images of one-star iTunes reviews started to flash before my eyes.

She doesn’t even know how to edit her podcast! ⭐️❌❌❌❌

Awful listening experience! ⭐️❌❌❌❌

Don’t even bother, what an amateur! ⭐️❌❌❌❌

Just NO! ❌❌❌❌❌

And then…the dreaded phrase popped into my head.

Katie, it’s been SIX years. You. Should. Have. Known. Better.

Even the most seasoned runners trip sometimes. The small mistake you make probably won’t define you — but what you do next just might. Click To Tweet

Here’s the thing. Whether it’s a small “whoops” or a big “oh shit” moment, things HAPPEN. And we can be really hard on ourselves when we make a mistake — especially if we’ve been doing that particular thing for a while.

If that’s you, and you’ve experienced your own “I Should Have Known Better Moment” lately, here’s what I have to say — and I hope you take this to heart —

That *one thing* does not, in any way, negate all the expertise and skill you’ve built over the years.

Even the most seasoned athletes trip sometimes.

Even the best chefs will inevitably burn a meal.

The mistake you make probably won’t define you — it’s what you do next that matters.

 

The whole process of re-editing, re-uploading, and re-publishing took maybe five minutes. The edited episode is now up and running, but I couldn’t shake the fact that at least 500 people had already downloaded and listened to the episode (and my overactive thirst neurons).

And so in that moment, I chose to practice MISTAKE RESILIENCE (not sure if that’s a thing, but I just made it up so now it is!). Which basically boils down to:

1) GRACE: recognizing my humanity, which means human error will inevitably happen if I’m working on something, because I’m a person not a robot.

2) SPACE: zooming out from the experience and looking at it within the grand scheme of things. I’ve been podcasting for six years, and hope to keep going for many years more. One mistake doth not make or break a pod unless I let it.

3) REPLACE: taking the moment and framing it as a useful learning experience instead of a defeating defining moment. In this case, the lesson was two-fold: I learned to always give my introductions one last listen before pressing publish. And I also learned that getting something done is always better than toiling over perfection for so long that you never end up doing anything.

 

With just 7 weeks left in the year — less than 50 days! — I’m really hoping we can all practice more Mistake Resilience and focus less on what’s going wrong and more on what’s going right. Not to gloss over or avoid missteps and mess-ups, because you are a human not a robot, but to set your future self up for success.

Where can you give yourself grace?

How can you get enough space?

Is it possible to replace that self-loathing with a lesson learned?

 

And then, last thing I’ll say — I know sometimes the little things don’t feel so little at all.

I know the little things can so easily spiral into the big things. And since life is made of the micro-moments, It’s easy to let each one define you.

Life is tough, but you are tougher

YOU get to define You by what you do next.

I believe in you.

I hope you believe in you, too.

 


 

You’ll Love It When You’re Older: On Ageism, Bias, and Covertly Dangerous Compliments

You’ll Love It When You’re Older: On Ageism, Bias, and Covertly Dangerous Compliments

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I got exposed to ageism at a very early age in a very odd way: by getting told incessantly how much younger I looked than I actually was.

Immediately followed by: YOU’LL LOVE IT WHEN YOU’RE OLDER.

Every time I got praised for looking “so young,” I could hear in people’s voices (and actual words) the clear subtext: how desirable and “good” youth was.

Plus, I was consistently told I acted older than I was but looked younger, which apparently was the *iDeAL* way to be.

Compliments like this can seem harmless. What’s the big deal?! someone might think. It’s a good thing, not a diss!

But the thing about getting compliments on things that are designed to change throughout time — namely, your age and your shape — is that it can create a dependence on whatever’s getting you the compliments.

And then when your body does what it’s designed to do, which is shift and morph and grow older, it can cause panic.

 

If you’re told your value is in your age or shape or size, what happens when it starts to inevitably change, and you’re not that age or shape or size anymore?

What happens to your sense of self-worth when the things that have brought you praise are no longer present?

 

This is why ads and articles for “anti-aging” tools and tips continue to be so popular.

Even if they’re not saying it outright, the subtext is: aging is a thing to be “anti-” and against. Aging is bad. Don’t age.

 

(and Here, buy this cream.)

 

 

I’ve been down the road of low self-worth with my body multiple times over.

However, by some blessing of the universe, I only rarely confront that with age.

My “secrets” aren’t so much a secret but a social and structural byproduct of the way I’ve lived thus far:

1. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always, always had role models to look up to who were significantly older than I was.

Aging, to me, meant that I would someday “get on the same level” as the women I admired. Whether it was personally or professionally, I always viewed age as a way in, not out — ironic, considering my career path for so long was as an actor (the entertainment industry notorious for its ageism). But even when I heard about people “ageing out” of certain types of roles, or women getting cast as grandmothers while they were barely in their 40s, I always had badass women to look up to who were defying the norms. If they can do it, I thought, I certainly can.

2. I am a professional noticer, which means I picked up on things early on that maybe other people didn’t until way later in life, or never did at all.

When it comes to age, I noticed how many people — namely women — just kinda stopped trying new things after a certain age. I vowed I would never be that person. From an emotional standpoint, but also a logistical one: I had too many interests and passions. If I gave myself an age cut-off, I quite literally wouldn’t have time to do everything I wanted to do.

At the old-young-neither age of 35, I’m usually not the youngest person in the room anymore, but I’m also usually not the oldest. I play 90s throwbacks in my spin classes and while 1/3 of the class members are right there with me, 1/3 weren’t even born in the 90s and 1/3 were well into adulthood and didn’t listen to, say, 702 (where my girls at, from the front to back).

So, here’s a photo of me hula-hooping with a giant bagel, at a #bagelinfluencer event (BagelFest – it’s a thing).

Here to remind you that like Aaliyah said, age ain’t nothing but a number.

And also, whether someone’s telling you you’re young or old — well first of all, young and old are subjective. Younger and older than who?? — YOU get to decide what you do and where you go in the stage of life you’re experiencing right now.

You’re not too old.

It’s not too late.

You’re not too young.

It’s not too early.

You are you.

It’s right now.

Make your own damn rules.

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133: The Power of Intuitive Business, Mental Health + Connecting The Dots In Your Life with Michelle Pellizzon of Holisticism

133: The Power of Intuitive Business, Mental Health + Connecting The Dots In Your Life with Michelle Pellizzon of Holisticism

the WANTcast

This back-from-unexpected-hiatus (…I’ll explain in the first 5 minutes) episode is JAM-PACKED with goodness right from the very start. From mental health and getting a diagnosis as an adult to “intuitive business” and the realities of making money to the way we live our lives online and how to be many things at once.

I’m so thrilled to be able to introduce you to MICHELLE PELLIZZON, founder (and Head Witch In Charge) of Holisticism. Holisticism is a platform, and media company that helps make well-being practices more accessible to the masses by helping wellness practitioners run profitable, community-oriented businesses. Michelle also hosts The Twelfth House Podcast, one of my favorite podcasts, shedding light on the unseen aspects of wellness, intuitive business, and spirituality.

 

 

 

SHOW NOTES:

Holisticism
The Twelfth House podcast
Michelle on IG
Holisticism on IG
Atomic Habits
Essentialism
Katie on The Twelfth House

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