"How has it felt to shift from TWLOHA to everything you're doing now?"

A question and an answer on a Friday. (Okay, mostly written on a Friday but finished after midnight so also sort of Saturday)

Each week I’m choosing a question to write about. Paid subscribers have been sharing some good ones in the chat. I love seeing new names showing up there and in the comments too. Both of those spaces are just for folks who pay, and while every post so far has been free, some upcoming posts will be for paid subscribers only. I’m trying to treat this like a job and I’m excited to be part of creating a kind corner of the internet. You’re invited to join us.

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My friend Catherine asked this question. Well, technically it’s two questions and the second has two parts. (Catherine is cool like that.)

“How has it felt to shift from TWLOHA to everything you’re doing now? What’s one of the biggest unexpected positives and one of the biggest trials?”

***

Hi Catherine.

Thanks for asking. These are big questions to say the least. They bring to mind a lot of what I’ve been thinking about, and processing in counseling, for close to two years now. I’ll do my best to share some of that here, and I’ll try to answer in order.

To Write Love on Her Arms changed my life. It was a huge part of how I spent my time, how people saw me and how I saw myself, for more than 15 years. I’ve been to all 50 states because of TWLOHA. I’ve been to countries around the world because of TWLOHA. So many friendships I now cherish, they started because of TWLOHA.

I often tell people that leaving the organization reminds me of a breakup. There’s been grief, there’s been regret, there’s been wondering if we should get back together. If I’m honest there have been moments of comparison and envy too. I remember a day where some of the TWLOHA team was in New York for an exciting partnership. I was at my house getting ready to lead a small group on Zoom. I used to be the one who flew to cool cities to be part of big things. Acceptance takes time. Letting go takes time. There is so much wrapped up in the whole thing, including my own ego and identity. When I consider all of this, it makes sense that moving on would be a process.

In some ways it’s been like a breakup. It’s also been like watching my kid grow up and move away and thrive without me. And while there’s truth in both comparisons, there is also the reality that my sister and my mom and my best friend all still work there. Other friends work there as well. I do not root against them and even more than that, I believe in the mission. I believe in the work. Lives continue to be saved and changed, people continue to get help, because of TWLOHA. I want that to continue. I want them to succeed.

***

As for everything I’m doing now, I would say this Substack actually represents the fourth and final piece of the puzzle in terms of the what my career looks like post-TWLOHA. To spell those out, there’s public speaking. I continue to love the opportunities that come my way, especially in-person but also virtually. I’m grateful and I still get excited about every chance to speak. What a privilege to communicate ideas that I believe in, to be invited to encourage people. Recent events have been special as they’ve given me the chance to talk to different kinds of audiences, from non-profit leaders to youth workers to the staff of a tech company to folks who work in hospitality and travel.

Last year I started offering small-group conversations and one-on-one coaching as well. The groups have been an incredible source of connection. I get to witness so many moments of vulnerability being met with kindness, compassion, and encouragement. I get to participate as well. There are groups that meet just once and, since January, there are groups that meet four times over the course of a month. I can’t say enough good things about the “Four Fridays” and “Four Sundays” folks. We live in different countries, sometimes different continents, but we’ve been able to get to know each other by spending time in meaningful conversation over the course of weeks and sometimes more. Several people have participated in multiple months. Bri and Britt have been with me since the start and they’re coming back for May. We first met on the eighth of January and we took a week off at the beginning of April, but otherwise I’ve seen them every single Sunday in 2023. We’ve laughed a ton and we’ve definitely cried and it’s one of the coolest things I’ve ever been a part of.

As for coaching, that actually came before the small groups, at the start of last year. My thinking was this: I’ve been doing the career thing for a while now—15 years with TWLOHA and eight years as a sales rep in the surf industry before that. I’ve seen some things and done some things. I’ve made mistakes and hopefully I’ve learned a few lessons along the way. If I were to offer coaching, I wondered if a few people might be interested.

Honestly it’s been great. I’ve truly enjoyed being invited into people’s stories, getting to listen and ask questions, doing my best to be an open book when someone is curious, offering ideas when they feel stuck. I smile at the paradox that even though I’m a work in progress, with problems of my own, I can try to help other people navigate the challenges they’re facing, whether it’s work or life in general. Sometimes I meet with a person once, sometimes every couple weeks or once a month or every few months. I’m available and happy to be flexible. If something comes up and someone wants a place to process, I’m not hard to find.

There are three clients who I got to work with over the course of a year. Two of them are an American couple in South Korea. They’re Americans who teach English and they just got engaged! The third is a licensed mental health professional in Colorado. The timing was a coincidence, with both parties reaching out when I first offered coaching. And while the conversations were different, they shared some common ground. We talked about self-care, about burnout, finding community and connection. It was an honor to get to journey alongside all three of them for an extended period of time. The couple in Korea actually asked me to record a message for their wedding.

One important note: I’m not a mental health professional. If someone is struggling, I want them to have the best help possible. I’ve definitely turned people away with the hope that instead they will connect with a licensed counselor.

Often times, when I do end up working with someone, they have a counselor or they’ve seen a counselor in the past. They’re feeling stable and they’re looking for another perspective. I actually relate to this in a new way lately. In addition to seeing my counselor weekly, or every other week depending on the season, I recently started working with a coach. I’ve been talking to Justin McRoberts once a month and he’s been helping me a lot.

***

All of that brings us back to writing. Public speaking has been part of my work for a long time now. I introduced small groups and coaching last year, and this Substack, which launched three weeks ago today, marks my return to writing.

TWLOHA was born from a story that I wrote, about an attempt to help a friend. The story went viral and led to the non-profit. I wrote throughout the first decade of TWLOHA and some of that writing ended up in my book, If You Feel Too Much. Having a book published was a dream come true. Becoming a New York Times best selling author was beyond a dream, and definitely unexpected. It’s still hard to believe those words apply to me.

The publisher requested additional writing for the book’s expanded edition. I had just gone through a break-up and it’s safe to say my heart was broken. I submitted five additional stories. One was about meeting Aaron Carter on a cross-country flight, an experience I cherish today. The other four were about the end of my relationship.

I’ve hardly written since then. I promised another book and of course I wanted to deliver. There were false starts. There was the beginning of a book proposal, but it felt like a collection of Instagram captions. Outside of the occasional inspired moment there, I basically didn’t write anything until a month ago, when I started working on this Substack.

For years, I felt a lot of embarrassment and shame around not writing. I also felt confused. If I loved writing, then why did I stop? If writing is a gift that I was given, something I’m good at and something I can use to touch the lives of other people, why did I walk away from the gift?

I know at least part of the answer is that my confidence was gone. I wasn’t happy with the story I was living. These words show up in my book and they still feel true today: It’s hard to tell a story we don’t like.

I’m excited to be writing again, and to be sharing the words here. I’m not concerned with the newsletter part of this, though you’re welcome to call it a newsletter. I won’t mind if you say blog. I just want to write. Sidenote: I really love “Ever Get Home” but a big part of me didn’t want to come up with a title for this Substack. I just wanted to use my name and start to write again. I actually thought about calling it “Self-Titled,” before deciding maybe that’s a bit too self-important.

And so here we are. Ever Get Home launched three weeks ago and writing is officially back in the mix as part of my career. Once again, if you want to support me by becoming a paid subscriber, that would certainly be awesome. You get to join a growing community of kind folks in the comments and the chat, and you’ll have access to every single post.

My hope is that if I can fall in love with writing again here, which feels like it’s starting to happen, I can eventually make a second book happen as well. Not one or the other but both. This felt like the place to make a comeback.

***

Okay that was a lot of information and now I need to actually answer your questions. You asked how it’s felt to transition from TWLOHA into everything I’m doing now.

It’s been a roller coaster of emotions but I feel good about where I am today. I feel present and I feel grateful. I like having the freedom to make my own schedule and the freedom to be creative. The future is uncertain but I’m showing up one day at a time. I enjoy the work I’m doing and all of it feels meaningful. The wins may not be as visible but I feel peace about my life. I’m comfortable standing on a stage when I get the chance, and sharing these words here, but it feels good to find meaning behind the scenes as well. I love Sunday nights on Zoom, talking about real things with a group of people who I care about, who I believe care about me. I love the one-on-one conversations as well. I see value now in listening, in presence, in connection.

Connection is pretty much my favorite thing at the moment. My counselor reminded me earlier today that, in the words of Brené Brown, “Connection is the antidote to shame.”

I loved Bono’s book, Surrender. Something that stood out to me, both in the book and in his talking about the book, was the emphasis on being useful. It’s worth noting that Bono might have the coolest job in the world. He is the lead singer of U2. And since U2 has been very successful for a very long time, Bono is very rich. And yet he kept talking about wanting to be useful, wanting to be of service.

The words were simple and yet they also felt significant. And I suppose the idea has stayed with me because I find myself looking at my own work through this lens. The audience I’m speaking to, what message will be useful to them? When I’m with the “Four Sundays” group on Zoom, how can I be of service? Even here, I keep planting seeds asking people to consider becoming paid subscribers. But that will only happen as people find value in what they’re reading here. And so the questions are the same: How can I serve this audience? How can I be useful?

I think Bono was saying he’s finding meaning in the idea that his life and his work are not only about him. This is a guy who has made enough money to do whatever he wants for the rest of his days, and yet a life well-lived requires meaning. And meaning is often found in connection, when we share our lives with other people. But connection can only happen when we care about another person. I’m finding meaning, I’m finding value, in doing my best to care. And in allowing other people to care about me. Which means allowing them to know me. I hope I’m doing some of that right now.

Your second question asked for “one of the biggest unexpected positives and one of the biggest trials?” I think I covered trials at the top. Letting go is hard. Change is hard. Finding our confidence again after we’ve lost it, this is hard too.

As for the unexpected positive, I think it starts with what Brené Brown said. Connection as the antidote to shame makes sense to me. Maybe it’s the place we find our confidence again. When somebody sees us, when somebody believes in us, when we get to feel useful. Maybe it’s the place we pick back up the gift.

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The National’s new album is super good and I’m digging the new Young in the City EP as well.