what we are.

trusting the Universe. (or "my best life advice comes from my five-year-old.")

This Substack has been around for three-and-a-half years now. (!!!!) This is my 139th post—fitting, because it’s also the last post I’ll write in my 30s. I turn 40 on Friday, May 16th and I’ve been planning a party that is all of my favorite things with so many of my favorite people in one of my favorite places—Seattle. But reflecting on this big birthday has me reflecting on where I am and what I’m doing with my life and WHO I am.

I’ve had a confidence problem lately. The problem being my confidence has been at an all-time low. It directly correlates to me historically tying too much of my self-worth on to my job/career and then having the job that I moved my family to Jackson for not work out. I give myself a hard time for things like this and then I give myself a hard time for giving myself a hard time and then I just spin myself out of the sparkle of who I am. I can’t seem to let myself be okay.

Recently, I told a colleague about how I’m working on getting my confidence back. And she told me, “You should just take notes from Marcie.” I laughed, because she’s totally right. I needed to borrow some confidence from Marcelline—my five-year-old daughter.

Being back in Seattle this week is so exciting, but a little daunting, because the last time we were here, we were having a going-away party, talking a big game about these big jobs we were moving for. Now, neither Evan nor I have the jobs we moved for… not even a year later. It’s been a lot of explaining—over and over. People asking what happened; why I’m not working in radio anymore. (long story short: it just didn’t work out. it wasn’t a good fit. and it was really hard on my mental health.)

So I’ve been really leaning into taking note of Marcelline and her confidence and also of trusting the Universe in all of it. The Universe—ugh. I’ve felt so disconnected from “the Universe” and so out of touch with my intuition that I’ve had trust issues with it all lately. But okay, no. I need to trust it.

On Mother’s Day, I woke up holding Marcelline in bed in the AirBNB we’re staying in. She was asleep, but started laughing, dreaming about something so funny. This made my heart just so happy. Then when she woke up (much later), she said, “I’m HEAVY from a BIG rest.”

I loved that so much. I feel that so much. I feel like it’s not just brushing off all the feelings all the time. It’s that I’m a little heavy, from taking a big mental rest over these past two months and resetting.

A little later on Sunday, I did a Full Moon Tarot reading and felt so connected to it all.

I started to realize I just have to let it go. I have to let this weird shame and heartbreak go. As a friend—hilariously and kindly—told me: NO ONE CARES, RACHEL. No one else thinks I’m flailing at life. I’m just spiraling inside, flailing inwardly. When I can actually just put a foot down and stop the playground merry-go-round that I’m spinning myself. Actually, I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. I can take a beat and be okay with everything and also lean into that Queen energy.

Monday morning, we were at one of our favorite bakeries, sitting outside. Evan was doing a crossword puzzle. Marcelline was making a fairy house. I was doing a Tarot reading. When all of the sudden, I heard, “Rachel?”

It was a friend from Jackson who worked at the radio station there, but left that job a little bit before I started—also for her mental health. She was in town for a couple days, because her brother had just graduated from college in Tacoma. She was randomly staying up the street and just passing by. It was WILD to see here there.

We chatted for a while and then started talking about the Snow King concerts this summer. I asked her if she would get any free tickets through her new job. She told me, “No, I don’t get any cool perks at this job… except for better mental health… which is a HUGE perk.”

I smiled, knowingly. It was so nice to have this interaction—this knowing—in Seattle, amongst so. many. conversations about why I left the radio station. Thank you, Universe.

A month or so ago, I drank too much wine and was mean to Evan. In front of Marcelline. (another strike against alcohol in my ever-lasting battle to give up the drink, but for some reason just not ready to do so completely.) I was mortified with myself. I apologized to Evan the next morning and then crawled into bed with Marcelline. As she woke up, we talked about any dreams we had. We talked about what we wanted to do that day. We talked about the night before. I apologized to her.

Me: I drank too much alcohol last night and I was mean to Papa. And I should not have done that. I said sorry to Papa, but I just wanted to say sorry to you, too. I’m sorry, baby.

Marcie: It’s okay. But did you say sorry to yourself?

I was taken aback. She could see that I was sad and ashamed and that I truly needed to apologize to myself. I needed to put my foot down and stop the shame spinning. I HADN’T apologized to myself.

I have been holding this wisdom (yes, from my five-year-old) close to my heart. I have been more kind with myself these days. And instead of comparing almost-40-year-old Rachel to other-age Rachels and then spinning into a bit of a tizzy of where I thought I would be or where I thought I wanted to be, I’m apologizing to her for even putting those expectations on her.

I’m sorry, Rachel. I love you. You’re you. We’re us. We’re a lot. And that’s okay. We’re woo. We’re a book of mistakes. We are a bottle of celebrations. We are a broken-down playground. We are wet ink that we can’t help smudging. We’re done grieving the dreams that didn’t come to fruition and we’re on to the next ones, because lord knows we have dreams for days. We’re us, Rachel. And we’re here, exactly where we are supposed to be. A little wiser, a little greyer, a little older, a little happier, a little wilder, and a little heavier after such a big rest.

We’re fucking 40, baby!

---

Quick Hits:

• Jam Of The Week: Little Simz – Young.

  (I LOVE LITTLE SIMZ. this song is so Dry Cleaning-esque. and I love that she’s in old lady dress. OLD SALTY LADIES UNITE!)

• THE DREAM.
  (truly. I’ve finished the edits on my book and daydream about getting representation, getting published, and then getting to go to all my favorite bookstores and see my book there and try not to burst into tears each time.)

  

  Marcelline at Elliott Bay Books yesterday.

• I Got This Book At Elliott Bay.
  (excited to dive in.)

• Have You Seen This??
  (so good. I want to make more ridiculous genius like this.)

• I Wrote Two SIFF Film Reviews For The Stranger.
  (Familiar Touch is beautiful and Into the Wonderwoods is bonkers… in a good way. it’s always so cool to see my name in print.)

• DREAM TEAM.
  (Patti LuPone is coming to Jackson at my new job!)

• I Still Daydream About Being A New Yorker.

  (I can’t imagine breaking up with her.)

• EXACTLY.

Thank you thank you for being a part of The Messayist. For being witness to my life through these essays. For watching me grow and watching me fail and watching me fall and get up over and over. This place has been a perfect vessel to write and find my voice and find myself and find some friends. It’s a mess sometimes, but it’s my mess.

xxo,
rachel.

p.s. I know it’s Wednesday. I just couldn’t get it together yesterday! Thank you for your grace!