Let good things happen to you.
like this missive! open it. OPENNNNN ITTTTT
I wonder if anyone will open this post, because no one ever thinks to themselves, “You know, I haven’t been letting good things happen to me.”
But I didn’t. For so much of my life. Without realizing it.
You, too, maybe?
In the olden days, when good things happened to me, I registered them as stressfests. (I’m fun like that.)
Once, I was invited to move into LITERALLY THE BEST APARTMENT IN OUR ENTIRE BUILDING.
It was double the size of the cramped studio I was fast outgrowing, with cute French doors, three times as many windows, a view of an entire mountain range, no upstairs stomping…and it was (wait for it) all of $140/mo more (and still way cheaper than any other option in town).
I cannot adequately explain how much this decision tortured me. My friends listened to me gnaw my knuckles for WEEKS. (Bless those friends.) What if my new neighbors were louder? What if that $140 should have gone into retirement or more relaxed spending? When I finally, hesitatingly chose to take the upgrade, it was with deep uncertainty and rampant stress shits.
GOOD. LORD.
After 11 glorious years nestled into this sweet space (much better for also decade-older me), I’m boggled at what a sharp stick in the eye this now quite obvious gift felt like.
Or, when good things happened to me, I immediately felt I needed to “earn” them.
Ever pulled this one? Only about a hundred times a day, for past me.
If someone gave me a gift, I agonized over what I could do for them in return.
A favor? Weighed on my mind for months as something to repay.
I can’t believe I used to discount my client contracts if I had a baller day and charged through a project unexpectedly fast. Because it wouldn’t be fair to charge full price!
Fair to whom!?
Every lucky break felt like a heavy obligation, because I hadn’t yet “earned” it. Even though it was already given, freely. Even though the person giving it already got paid back in spades with the little thrill of putting some kindness out into the world.
This is what happens when we live in a transactional society instead of in community.
And I definitely didn’t celebrate good things. Nope.
This is real: I used to wear a Camelbak (water backpack with a drinking tube) hiking so I could just guzzle water by slightly turning my head. Why? Because then I wouldn’t have to stop on a hike to haul my water bottle out. You know, 15 seconds of breathing, appreciating birds, seeing the sights…what an inconvenience.
Have I mentioned I want to punch past me? This crap is why.
I hid from my 30th birthday, my boyfriend at the time attempting to wedge a dairy-free dark chocolate cake in the (actual) door I was trying to close on him.
As I crested 10 years of business, I fantasized about throwing a party with all my delightful clients and colleagues. 10 years melted into 15. No party. I just…worked more.
Wanna know what changed all of this?
A two year nightmare of mail orders, returns, body breakdowns, and insomnia known as “trying to buy a mattress in a small town with severe chronic pain.”
Yes, I got KICKED OUT of a local mattress store at one point for taking too long. No, I don’t want to talk about it.
At one point, a mattress company “offered” exhausted me a chance to keep the couchlike mattress I was trying to return for 60% of the cost. Which seemed “wrong.” Wouldn’t I be a bad person if I accepted this thing I had bought at full price but didn’t love for less? Again, cue the gnashing of teeth, this time to my parents over email.
My Dad said, and I quote because I still have the email:
“No need to run up hill looking for trouble.
You had to deal with the negative that life has thrown at you.
Take a pause and enjoy the positive.”
This seems so damn obvious, in retrospect.
When BAD things happened, I ALWAYS recognized them.
When bad things happened, I RARELY thought, “gee, I really earned this.”
And I certainly granted the bad things plenty of pomp and circumstance: mourning, kvetching, questing for solutions, hand-wringing to the max.
So why did I treat good things so differently? With no recognition, crippling guilt, and a glaring lack of ceremony?
When I was finally forced to confront how bad sickness (and mattress shopping) really was…I was also forced accept the good, too.
I’m not owed good things because bad things happened to me. That’s a slippery slope of a mindset.
But at a certain point around the mattress debacle, I publicly admitted I just couldn’t do basic life shit alone anymore. And people insisted on dropping off groceries, Venmo’ing me a few bucks, coming over to clean, and just generally infusing my life with a level of good I could not afford to resist.
There was no escaping this good. It wore down my defenses. I was too tired to fight it.
I buckled and went to the light side.
I’ve (mostly) stopped “running uphill looking for trouble.”
Now, when people give me compliments or gifts or kindnesses, I don’t think “ACK MUST REPAY!” or “I’M NOT WORTHY!”
I think, AWWWWWWW! Then I pause to soak up the menschy moment, thank them sincerely, and try to pay it forward (but not to the point of worrying about some cosmic balance sheet.)
On my 40th birthday, I published a gift registry (that’s still going), had at least three different small mini-parties (gotta bite size it as a sickie), and celebrated one way or another ALL YEAR. (This mostly consisted of my Aunt Carrie mailing me my wildest heart’s desires (and so much floss), which was so sweet and appreciated.)
When I wrapped up a career-defining project last year, I spent a week with my Mom, huffing roses, schlepping out to a waterfall with my rollator, and splurging on a few 40ish purchases.
Now I…roll downhill? looking for…glee? IDK.
Not to get too silver lining-y…but also, after decades of taking good things as bad, I’m flipping the script.
The federal funding freeze decimated my stable microbusiness. That’s “bad.” But. Also. It’s opened the door for a much-needed services rethink. Does it FEEL like a wild and free exploration of my next professional venture? Not usually. But that’s what it is. (Stage whisper: It’s also a clusterfuck. But not *just* a clusterfuck.)
Same for sickness. Objectively: “bad.” And it’s made me cut myself a break for the first time in my life. Now I’m learning how to cut myself a break because I’m a human, not because I’m a sickie.
Far beyond my work systems and bodily systems, systems worldwide are falling apart. Bad. Very, very bad. And I see the people working harder than ever before to fight, to protect, to innovate, to build something better.
Yes, there are going to be times when whatever is happening just feels too sucky. In those times, I hope I’ll still see the good AROUND whatever catastrophe has come to pass. The surprise chocolate bars from secret Substackers, the friend who made me an illustrated picture book about my Victorian clothes-eating moths debacle, the retired neighbor who always scrapes the snow off my car.
You know: the good stuff that I now know (finally) to let happen to me.
Okay, tell me. What’s the worst good thing that ever happened to you? Or the best recent thing you’ve reluctantly let in?
Comments are open for silver linings, hard lucky breaks, and lost-and-found joy.
If you’re still like, what in the canned fruit cocktail is a Meatscon…getcha one!
It’s basically a “how many spoons do I have” scale. I made mine for my bestie and boyfriend and now I’m sharing it with you so you can dial in your own version. (Already bought one? Please review it and/or share it with someone who needs it!)
Bless Substack for being so aggressively kind.
Last week I left my coffee fund off, and a reader IMMEDIATELY asked me to put it back. Aw. In the spirit of letting good things happen, I welcome decaf Americanos at Venmo kira-stoops, any payment you like on the Meatscon, and useful gifts are here.
PS. Let free money happen to you:
• Get $100 when you open a new Ally account using this link. (Gives me $50, too.) Minimum deposit is $1k. This one’s my fave for the buckets feature!
• Get a $200 bonus (and then up to 3% cash back forever) on a no-fee card with American Express with this link. (I get $75.)
• Take $60 off an Electric Liberty Trike like mine with this link (I think it gives me $60, too?) For the cheapest deal, get the “Classic” (aka, old, aka, mine) model or a refurb. I gotta do a post about how good this thing is for low-stamina folks like me!
“This is what happens when we live in a transactional society instead of community.”
Wow! Loved this line because I can absolutely see this pattern of thinking within myself.
Cosmic spreadsheet GOT me, lol. Clearly I have one of those. Thanks for this very important read.