Kate’s Five Things #31

Committed to a Jean Seberg Summer...

May 16, 2024

Catching Up

I was out with some friends last night, a few of whom I have not seen since December. Naturally, the question of “What have you been up to?” came up, as it often does after the Minnesota hibernation period comes to a close. For anyone rerouting their life—professional or relational—it’s a loaded question. I want to be able to point to something concrete and make sense to the person across from me. My face warms when I admit to the truth. But lately, I’ve been more comfortable being open-ended, misunderstood, or saying “Not much.” Not much isn’t exactly true, but how does one casually say that they’ve turned themselves inside out and now their world looks completely different? How does one express that nothing has changed, yet everything is different?

On the other side of that metamorphosis, I’ve found grief to be an unlikely companion. Grieving what we can see squarely in the rearview mirror is normal after a big change. I’ve lost a lot and let go of a lot, and the ways I used to distract and numb no longer hold their potency. All of my relationships have changed for the better, I think, but there is still a sense of loss mixed in, of not knowing what will happen now and not being able to go back to the way things were before. I am both free and euphoric, alone and terrified.

Last Week’s House Call

In last week’s newsletter, “Why Don’t We Feel Comfortable Having People Over?” I wrote about the conditions we set for connection within our home.

Here’s a snippet:

“Something happens as those early adult years fade into adulthood, and a clean and tidy home becomes a status symbol for having your life together. Mess becomes a sign of failure—not an indicator of the variety of life stages, brain chemistry, and preferences a person may have. In fact, I believe that our inability to hold space for mess cuts out huge parts of our identity that, with a little bit of attention and acceptance, could bring us home to the truth of ourselves in a way that changes our future trajectory.
What if instead of hiding ourselves from our closest, safest friends, we show up for each other without needing to have our literal shit together? When did our physical mess become grounds for ostracization?
When we make connection conditional, it becomes easier and easier to keep the door closed, to put off inviting that friend over for dinner, to keep a part of yourself hidden from view from the people who love you unconditionally.”

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How I'm feeling this week…

To be honest, I’ve wanted to change this question because it felt silly and trivial. Then, when talking about Mother’s Day with my therapist, I realized I often intellectualize my emotions to avoid identifying with them. So, how am I feeling, really? I’m feeling like I understand why people don’t go looking under the rocks of their pain. But it’s worth it, so worth it.

What's in my cart…

I watched Bonjour Tristesse by myself in bed this week. Jean Seberg might be the most beautiful woman to ever walk this planet, and her Côte d’Azur vacation look is my mood board for this summer. Boldly colored one-pieces with oversized button-downs, wide skirts, black dresses, sunkissed makeup, light weight striped sweaters, halter tops, white Keds, scarves, basket totes… all in my cart.

What I'm consuming…

I finished Baby Reindeer last week. I didn’t think I was going to make it through, but I’m so glad I did. I’ve never seen a show blend the darkest corners of the human psyche with comedy like this show did. It was intimate and horrifying and the last episode shot an arrow right through my heart.

What resonated with me…

I first saw this famous Georgia O’Keeffe quote five years ago while visiting Santa Fe for my 35th birthday: “I’ve been absolutely terrified every moment of my life and I’ve never let it keep me from a single thing that I wanted to do.” It came across my feed this week and hit differently. After having kids, my relationship with fear changed and I gave it a lot more power. Now I remember I’m still that person who jumps despite the terror; it doesn't go away with age but becomes a sign pointing toward growth.

A question I've been asking myself lately…

What do I need and have I communicated it? I hate this question because it is both simple and difficult to answer—indicators it’s a good one to keep asking.