A note for you, if you’re having a bad day.
My Dear Friend,
How are you feeling?
Please take a moment to establish your truest answer to that question. And before you try too hard to find the vocabulary, know this objective truth: feeling words are hard. Naming emotions is hard. It’s not necessary that you use the words everyone has accepted as “literally correct” when it comes to feelings. One of my most commonly used feeling words is “blob.”
There are always the classics, which offer a great place to start: happy, sad, angry. But honestly, those ones are sometimes tough to own! It’s kind of like putting on Chanel Number Five — like, everyone KNOWS this scent, but is this really MY scent? Or, am I a Big Enough Deal to pull this off? But hey, no one’s gonna judge you here: try them on. Do any of the big three feel true right now? If it’s just between you and yourself?
Let’s add “grieving” to the list, too — because usually when you’re grieving, you don’t want to call it grieving. “No one has died tragically or unexpectedly,” you say, “and so I have not earned ‘grieving.’” But I have experienced the relief of calling grief by its name, even when the impetus is small. If you suspect that you might be grieving, try putting your hand on your chest, closing your eyes, and saying, “I am grieving.” If you find that it feels true, then no further explanation is needed. Hold that emotion for as long as you need.
I recently had a phone call with someone who shared with me that she had a lot of anger in her. It was refreshing to hear her say that; I realized that I don’t typically hear people talk about their anger, except in the context of social justice (which is great and valid and worthy and true, too). But private and personal anger being called by its name was interesting, and felt real to me. “I want someone who can be with me in my anger,” she said. And that makes sense; I definitely find myself trying to get away from anger when I sense it. But calling it by its name de-fangs it; it makes the anger safer to sit with.
Lately I’ve been feeling happy. It’s not profound. It’s, like, when I’m eating a plate of broccoli. I sit at the dining table with my boring plate of broccoli listening to some boring folk music and I have the thought, “Hey! I am happy right now!” But happy feels like it should only be about when my daughter smiles at me (which, that too), and nothing small like broccoli. On the other hand, when I say the word “happy” to myself, it amplifies my happiness. Calling it “happy” allows it to fill me up, and that gives me energy later when the happiness fades.
Sometimes feelings are waaaay too abstract to put words to. You check in with your body (because that’s where emotions live, like it or not), and you go, “WHOA. I am feeling A LOT OF FEELINGS.” Shoulders: bunched together. Throat: tight. Belly: aching. Feet: tingling. The physical mixes with the metaphysical and you don’t always know what to do with that. Occasionally I’ll have a feeling I’ve had before but haven’t been able to name, and so I’ll make something up. The emotions I get when I put my breast pump on and start that thing whirring I call King Ted. As in, “Oh hello, King Ted. There you are again. Greetings.” It makes the pumping easier.
So anyway, right now, how are you feeling?
Whatever you’re feeling, I would like you to know this: it makes sense. Your shoulders chest throat head teeth toes core are telling you the truth. It’s OK to feel that way, even if it’s painful. You won’t feel like this forever, I promise — pleasant or unpleasant as your feeling might be. I want to sit with you in your emotions, even if I can’t do that physically, and even if we don’t know each other. Your feelings are holy. They are important. They are true.
Best of luck out there in the cold.
Love,
Sophie
Add this to your to-do list.
Calibrate your temperature. That is: take some time to decide if you are at your maximum comfortable temperature (are you JUST A LITTLE too hot? Too cold? Too dry? Too wet?) and change your conditions until you find your personal EXACTLY RIGHT. (Run your toes under hot water then put on socks; rub lotion on your elbows; put a damp towel on your neck; jump in place until your insides heat up. Go inside a building or go outside into the sun.) Appreciate that the exactly right temperature exists, and can be attained.
A drawing.
Here’s an excerpt of an old Instagram post that featured 100 emotion words drawn as little monsters. I am in the process of making these into sticker sheets. I don’t know what a person would do with 100 emotions stickers on sticker sheets, but they were requested, and I bought a Cricut specifically for this purpose.
What’s on my mind this week.
(This will be about new parenthood. Skip it if you don’t want to read about new parenthood.)
We have a nanny. Let me first say: it takes TREMENDOUS financial privilege to get reliable childcare in the United States, especially for children under the age of 3. Paradoxically, it also takes tremendous financial privilege to be able to stay home with your baby, whereas there is no legally mandated maternity leave for people who don’t have benefits-bearing full time jobs. (And for them, the average leave maxes out at 8 weeks.) We share our nanny with our upstairs roommates, who also have an infant. I feel like it would be SO HARD to watch two infants, but our nanny seems chill and is incredibly good at her job, as is already apparent only a few weeks in. Anyway, there are a million ways to feel like a Bad Mom, but one of them is loving having a nanny. I feel Ike it is ethically wrong to love handing my infant daughter off to this great woman four times a week. A lot of my happiness is coming from being able to go back to work. I have a lot of jobs and I like them all. I even like driving to work; I even like sitting in traffic. I like teaching the high schoolers and I like doing marketing for my book and making commissions. There are a lot of things in life I like, and I haven’t been able to do them for almost a year. Now I hand T off to her nanny and I can do the things. Then, in the evening, I get T back, and I am SO HAPPY to see her. You don’t have to tell me I’m not a bad mother for liking this arrangement. I know I’m not. You can know something and feel differently about it. I actually cannot believe how easy it is and how often I feel like I am a bad mother. Not terrible. Like a C-. But anyway, my brain knows better.
Extras.
Laura Stevenson’s latest album came out at the end of 2021, but I just discovered it two weeks ago, and it’s on heavy rotation for me. She is one of the only musicians whose albums I can always listen to over and over again without skipping any tracks.
I finished the MTV book and am on to the exact same book, but about “The Daily Show.” I’m addicted. I’m spending way too much money on Libro.fm so I can have these books and listen to them day and night. And I don’t even really care about “The Daily Show”?
On a less trashy note, the hype about “The Vanishing Half” is for good reason. I’ve already cried twice and I’m not even halfway through.
I also cried twice AND LAUGHED TWICE (!!!) during the first episode alone of Bridget Everett’s new show, “Somebody Somewhere.” I’ve always been a huge fan; it’s about G-D time she got a show.
You want to know a perfect food? Bonne Maman’s cherry preserves. LITERALLY PERFECT.
Sorry to hype a baby product, but my friend Jen recommended this French diapering cream, and while I could go either way about reusable diapers (we are using them, they are more work, it feels kind of worth it, but not all the way worth it, let’s talk about this for hours, anyway I’m gonna keep using them), I am an EVANGELIST for reusable wipes and this diapering cream.
I am always a fan of Brandon Wetherbee’s, but I haven’t told you to subscribe to his latest venture yet, even though it is VERY good. I recommend “Recommend If You Like.”
My mom sent me two things that were really good: one was this YouTube video of Triumph the Insult Comic Dog singing “Forever In Pooping” sensuously with Maya Rudolph and other less-good comedians.
The other was this New York Times article about disgust, which is GREAT, and even better read aloud.
Someone please tell me to stop eating spoonfuls of jam right now. I can’t stop. I’m on my period. That’s gotta be why.
Until Next Time (and Love),
Sophie
(Here is a picture of me writing this.)
these always make me feel so seen. thank you. i love these coming to my inbox every week. ♥️
So, I am glad to know there are more than 9 emotions because I feel a whole lot more that every day. Thanks.