Something's Gotta Give

A Page in the Life of a People Pleaser

If you've been reading along, you already know that just being here—writing for me and sharing with you—has been a lifelong dream realized. I toyed with the idea of creating this space on Substack for years, but I always found a reason to put it off. A month turned into a year, then several. I could blame it on Ex. I blame most of the world’s woes on Ex. Global warming? Ex. The current state of the United States? Ex. Nickelback's success? Absolutely Ex. A young sex worker with her tits out beating Demi Moore at the Oscars this year? 100% Ex. (Hollywood loves young tits out) All bad roads and dead ends lead back to Ex. I don't make the rules; I just report the facts.

All jokes aside, in a way, I did delay starting this publication because of Ex. See, I’m still not allowed to write about our demise yet. What’s the term for being unable to engage in an act you’re longing to participate in? Like cockblocking, but for writing? Ex. Must be Ex. But that’s okay. I’m fine-tuning my skills for the day I can finally tell the most outrageous story you’ve ever heard. It’ll happen.

The People-Pleasing Problem

One of the things I learned during my divorce and ensuing therapy sessions (the kind with a licensed professional and the kind with wine and ice cream) is that I’m a giant people pleaser.

People Pleaser: A person who has an emotional need to please others, often at the expense of their own needs or desires. — Merriam-Webster

I don’t know why I’m like this. I don’t know where this trait came from. I had a good, loving and supportive family. I got as much attention as any Gen X kid got growing up. Sure, I was often left to my own devices, but I always knew I had backup if needed. I didn’t have to jump through hoops to earn love; it was just there. Unconditional.

Yet here I sit, listening to my cat loudly demolish her wet food and staring at a blinking cursor, struggling to figure this out. Where did this people pleasing bullshit come from? I wasn’t a people pleaser in my youth or in college.

Fuck me. It’s Ex again, isn’t it?

Everything with him was conditional. I had to make myself small while somehow outshining everyone else when he was in my world. I never wanted to disappoint him, even if it meant losing parts of myself along the way. I wanted his light to shine on me. I needed it because I’d dimmed mine. I never wanted to be on the receiving end of his disappointment or, worse, his anger. So I went above and beyond in all ways.

Am I even capable of writing a single newsletter without stumbling into an epiphany? I’m texting my therapist tomorrow.

The Best Laid Plans (of a People Pleaser)

When I mapped out Midlife Rewrite, I envisioned a nice mix of madcap dating shenanigans, miserable men and their tomfoolery, deeply personal accounts of heartache and resilience (god I hate that word), irreverent pop culture hit pieces, book recommendations, and, of course, copious odes to menopause. I figured I had the trifecta of awesomeness: plenty of outrageous source material, time on my hands, and my personal favorite—a stunning lack of filter.

What could go wrong?

Naturally, in my rush to please my new community, I set a schedule that looked great on paper but turned into a nightmare to pull off. The original plan:

• Monday Musings: Deeper, vulnerable, and relatable pieces about where I am in life and how I got here.

• Wednesday Book Talk: Lighter fare about books, movies, and pop culture.

• Friday’s Dating Diaries: Disastrous dates with men who lick my teeth.

Then I realized: laying my ass out there for all to see is a lot harder than it looks.

Take Jay’s story. I actually outlined a four-part series comparing our journey to the seasons. Go back and look at the cover images. The clues were there.

The Dating Diary had spring blossoms, the first few months were summer bliss, the nights were supposed to grow longer in the autumn wind-down, but it became too much to write emotionally. I needed to condense and keep moving as to not fall back into dwelling and ruminating. All setting up whiplash and my time of wintering.

The perfect title, in myriad ways. And because, I’m still a people pleaser, I even found a book about Wintering so you’d have context when I shared the story.

Hello Burnout My Old Friend

Back when I ran my romance book review blog, it started as a passion project. I read what I wanted, and posted about it at my own pace. I loved every second of it. But as it grew, review requests came in hot and heavy. Romance lovers are voracious readers and luckily, romance writers are prolific writers. I didn’t want to let anyone down. Not the indie authors, not the publishers, and especially not my readers. By the time all was said and done, I had thousands of physical books in my home and more e-books than any human could possibly read in twenty lifetimes. Even with the help of my nerds—a group of friends who helped keep things rolling—we barely made a dent.

At one point, we posted five reviews or articles a day, six days a week, plus a weekly podcast. Just for the love of books. And I never monetized it.

Don’t get it twisted, I loved that community. I’m still best friends with the women I built it with. I love them dearly and cherish their friendship. Some of my readers from that blog are here now which is incredibly cool. But burnout is real, and lately, I’ve felt its familiar sting. Jay’s story drove it home. When I hit publish on whiplash, I had to close my computer and step away. Seeing that story in black and white winded me a bit. I don’t regret sharing it at all, not for one second.

Midlife, New Tricks

That sounds better than "old dog, new tricks," doesn’t it?

I want to keep sharing content I’m proud of. That means writing harder-hitting pieces that sometimes cut to the bone—my bone. To do that, I need to scale back. I’m sorry, but if I’m going to do this right, I have to take better care of myself. Didn’t I talk about living a slower life? Didn’t I take an online class on mindfulness meditations?

I have so many stories and thoughts I want to explore with our community. (Oh yes, I will get you all commenting one day and turn this puppy into a proper chat room!) But I need time to live and experience things that will enhance the journey I’m sharing. Also, the books are piling up again! And the research! Holy cow the research. Being a writer is an arduous yet glorious time suck. Hats off to all the creators out there writing and working a second full-time job.

So this is me, beating back my people-pleasing ways and taking care of myself. (I’ve said it before: I feel sorry for the next man I date seriously because your girl has changed her ways.)

You’re still getting the same, if not better, content—just at a slower pace. Instead of three posts a week, I’m cutting back to two. Tuesday and Thursday will be my regular newsletter days. Tuesday will be deeper; Thursday, more lighthearted. But don’t hold me to that. I’m nothing if not fickle. And I’ve been known to turn a funny story into a tearjerker on a dime.

And because once a people pleaser, always at least a little bit of one, I’m adding a Coffee Date Catch-Up on the last Friday of each month. I’m also thinking about adding additional paid content, like book club discussions in the Substack Chat and a monthly Zoom AMA.

Let me know in the comments if you’re interested in those.

xx