First time here? Here’s what this newsletter is.
Would you like to buy this print? Every week, there will be ten prints (and that’s it, forever) available for $9 each (including shipping). Each 5x5” print is numbered and signed. Be sure to choose “WEEKLY PRINTS ONLY” for your shipping option at checkout. Here’s that link again.
A note for you, if you’re having a bad day.
Hi Friend!,
It’s been three weeks since I’ve written to you. If you’ve been following along, you’ll have inferred (correctly!) that this is because I gave birth, and that right after a person gives birth it is difficult for them to put their energy towards anything other than keeping their baby alive. But I’ve been thinking about you a lot, and I’ve been needing to tell myself basically constantly that I am doing a good enough job (I guess this phrase originated as a parenting phrase for a reason), and so I’m glad to be back here, writing to you.
As a sleep-deprived person tasked with the general well-being of another living, breathing human, a lot of my life has shifted into a whirlwind of binaries. Is the baby healthy or sick? Is this methodology good or bad? Am I being nice or cruel? Is my behavior understandable or ludicrous? And most notably (and regularly), am I right or wrong?
I have already written about the importance of humility and thinking that you might be wrong. Closely attached to that idea is our general tendency to want to be perceived as being right. Note that this isn’t necessarily about being right; it’s more important that other people see us as right. Human beings tend to like to win.
I am actually pretty torn on the subject of competition. I understand that competition is often what drives productivity, development, and innovation. Without competition, we probably would still be without a Covid vaccine. But I also wonder if we haven’t been producing, developing, and innovating too fast. All these competition-driven inventions have led to global climate change, technological overload, and deep political division. In any case, I know myself to be a competitive person, and I enjoy the feeling of winning. Whether or not this is something I need to actively work on remains to be known. What I can say for sure is that the worse I feel in my body, the more I become a competitive monster.
This is because being perceived as being right emits the same kind of dopamine kick as alcohol, drugs, sugar, television, and anything else that helps a person get away from their present state for a little while. It’s true: winning is addictive. That doesn’t make wanting to win inherently bad or wrong — but just as with anything else addictive, it’s worth paying attention to. Notice the times in your life when you might be getting into more arguments than you normal. Here’s one I got into yesterday:
Me: Um, this is not where you should be trying to park in this parking lot.
Husband Luke: OK. I’ve never been in this parking lot before; I’m just doing my best.
Me: I’m just saying. It’s obvious there’s more parking lot over there. And yet, here you are over HERE, where there is LESS parking lot. There’s no way you can’t see how wrong this is.
(Compounding how embarrassing it is that I cared enough about this to say it out loud, I ended up being wrong about it anyway. Luke was parking in exactly the best place to park.)
When you find yourself picking a lot of fights, it might be because your basic needs aren’t being met. Are you getting enough sleep? Food that makes your body feel energized? Water? And those aren’t all the needs that we humans — social animals — have. Are you connecting to other people emotionally? Are you getting enough attention? Do you feel seen? Loved? Understood? Are you getting sufficient quiet time away from people who suck your energy? Do you have space to decompress? Do you feel safe?
This time of year, it’s hard for all your needs to be met. There are fewer daylight hours, and most animals take that natural cue to mean that they actually need more of less: more sleep and less action, more food and fewer other tasks. Humans put a stressful shopping holiday right at the apex of it all, along with final exams and end-of-year projects. If your needs aren’t being met, take the opportunity to name that as much as you can. You might not be able to fix it, but it could also give you permission to relax away from reflexive irritability. It’s OK to be quiet. It’s OK to say no to things. It’s OK to move slowly.
And by the way, things are almost never only right or only wrong. Outside of math and grammar, that particular binary is riddled with complexity. If you find yourself having a “you’re doing the parking lot wrong” thing with someone, it’s fine to stop mid-argument and say, “Whoa, I apologize. I am not getting enough sleep.”
To that end, I know that there is so much more to what I’m writing about today. Maybe irritability is a defense mechanism for you. Maybe it’s a fight-flight-freeze trauma response. Maybe you’re not addicted to rightness the way that others are. Maybe winter is your power season. But friend, I am not getting enough sleep. So argue with me all you want. For the time being, I have only the capacity to quietly listen.
Love Always,
Sophie
Add this to your to-do list.
If it is cold where you are, drink something hot, and do nothing else while you are drinking the hot thing. Feel it in your mouth and as it travels down into your chest. Wow. Hot liquid can really help you know about your body!
Next time you’re at the grocery store, buy yourself one present that costs less than $2.
Smell pine.
A drawing.
Just between us, the model for this drawing was my baby.
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.)
For me, postpartum life is infinitely better than 98 percent of pregnancy. (The other 2 percent took place in pockets of the second trimester where I was able to sort of forget I was pregnant.) It is so clear that this experience is wildly different for everyone who lives through it. Trying to draw any universal conclusions would be foolish. For many people, the first few weeks immediately after giving birth are emotionally gutting. For me, they have been wonderful. I will say that I’m glad to have been told that postpartum life is the perfect storm of unfamiliar hormones, sleep deprivation, no time for anything, impossibly slow breastfeeding tribulations, and a fundamental change in partnership dynamic. Knowing that these six weeks are hard for everyone has made the hard times feel easier. When I cry for seemingly no reason, I think, “Well, these are postpartum hormones! They will not last forever. I don’t have to solve this right now; I can just let it pass through me.” I have never been successful with this line of thinking before (an example would be: “Well, this is a chemical imbalance that has turned into depression! It isn’t my fault, and it won’t last forever. I don’t have to solve this right now; I can let it pass through me and talk to my therapist about it later“), but it has been so freeing. Sharing the weight of caring for this new living being with other people has made me feel more connected and grateful than I felt for the whole nine lonely months of being solely responsible for her. I do feel much more private about my parenting challenges than I felt about my pregnancy challenges. I don’t want most people to know about what has been specifically hard or magical about this experience; it all feels sacred to me. But I would describe the experience of giving birth as being wonderful and honestly pretty fun, and the first three weeks as being all the feelings that there could be at one time in a giant impossible mashed-up swirl. In conclusion, my baby’s head was in the >99th percentile size-wise, which makes me wanna say: MY VAGINA IS AMAZING.
Extras.
At 2 in the morning on my daughter’s fourth day on earth, I discovered the blog “Woman In Revolt,” and specifically these deeply thorough, snarky, kinda mean, obsessively researched recaps of episodes of “Gilmore Girls.” It. Is. The. Best. Thing. On. The. Internet. Lindsay Pugh (fellow INFJ!) is a great writer with an amazing eye for detail. Reading these while feeding T and re-watching the correlating episodes has been my happiest pleasure over the past three weeks. The whole website is great; it reminds me of all the best things about the early Internet. HIGHLY recommend.
It’s officially Christmas rom-com season, and we may have reached critical mass. (Please take as proof this list of made-for-TV-or-streaming holiday movies that have come out JUST THIS YEAR. I repeat: these are from JUST THIS YEAR.)
To that end: I really enjoyed “Love Hard.” My favorite terrible Christmas rom-com is “The Christmas Wedding Planner.” I want Lindsay Pugh to write a recap of that movie. I would read the hell out of it.
The end-of-year Spotify summaries are out. What did you guys find out about yourselves?
For Thanksgiving, I set out to see if this apple pie recipe with unbelievably superfluous-seeming extra steps was worth the time and effort. Survey says: Yes, it is.
I’m back to work already. Physically and emotionally, I’m not ready for this. Brilliant comedy writer Bess Kalb wrote an awesome piece for the NYT about maternity leave in the United States, and it is funny and smart.