Sitting down with 2024 me.
And some life updates.
As always, check out the audio version of this post to hear me read this post. You can even subscribe to it on your podcast feed so it populates automatically when it goes live!
A portion of this month’s paid subscriber proceeds will go to: LA fire relief fund. I also wanted to boost this massive spreadsheet of places to volunteer/donate physical goods from LA Mutual Aid.
What I cover here today: A thorough post-mortem of my 2024 goals and letter to self, plus updates (with photos) from the last month: the holidays, vacation, thrift scores, recent purchases, and more.
Last year, I continued my tradition of writing a letter to my future self. In other words, at the beginning of 2024, I wrote a letter to early 2025 me. AKA current me. Re-reading it now feels a bit like stretching my head out a window and waving to someone in the distance while yelling, “Hey! I see you!” It’s like having a conversation with a version of myself that feels distant, yet intimately familiar.
I used to set goals with the mindset with which I did everything: All or nothing. I either achieved whatever specific image of perfection I had in mind (almost always, something related to physical appearance), or I failed. No in between. So when I inevitably didn’t achieve the unachievable perfection I had aimed for, year after year, I felt, well… kind of broken. I ended each year feeling disappointed in myself and ashamed, and started the next one convinced I needed to work harder. If willpower was a bodily function, a gene, a part of the brain, I decided I was simply born without it, always operating from a deficit. It was not very pleasant.
This letter-writing tradition gives me the opposite feeling. After reading just a few sentences of last year’s letter, it’s obvious to me that I’m a different person now than I was then, yes, but also that that me loved this me. And vice versa.
So, for today’s post, I thought I’d sit down with the Olivia who wrote that letter. Below, you’ll find excerpts from that letter along with background on what I wrote about and why, and how I prioritized, ignored, or adjusted those hopes and goals in 2024.
Routine
I realize now that life doesn’t really owe us slowness or gentleness or calm. But we do owe those things to ourselves, I think. I want to be that way with myself in 2024, at least. I want to embrace the simple, basic things that make me feel myself and to honor them each day. Aside from writing, I abandoned so many of the things that make me feel like me in 2023 — namely, routine. I got lost. So that’s why routine is my first major goal for us in 2024. Morning reading. Exercise. Being outside. Not giving my phone so much damn control of my life, my brain, my habits. It’s not complicated, but I let it all feel that way in 2023. Routine is how I take care of myself. And that’s what I want for us in 2024.
I talked about most of the goals mentioned in this letter and especially this one on this episode of Bad on Paper, but my first instinct when it comes to this particular intention is that, on the whole, I didn’t really do this. Did I feel more settled than I did in 2023 (a very hard year for me)? Yes. Absolutely. Did I perfect my routine? Stick to it relentlessly? No. But there’s the word again. Perfection. It creeps into everything. So, no, I didn’t do this perfectly. But I did relax into my life in a way that I don’t think I have in quite a few years, if ever. Here’s what helped make that happen:
I finally, fully changed my phone habits in 2024. I have gone from checking Instagram 50+ times a day to only once or twice. I haven’t downloaded TikTok (RIP?) in months. I downloaded and then promptly deleted the Substack app once I noticed how much Notes was starting to feel like Twitter. It feels silly, but I have worked at changing this habit for years, and finally, something clicked. I still enjoy scrolling, engaging, and sharing, but I can also do things now without sharing them. I think about my appearance differently, and less often. I consume and focus on other people and their lives less often, too. I feel more creative. I am hyperaware of how scrolling for more than 10 minutes at a time makes me feel (spoiler: not great!). I have a stronger, clearer sense of self that I did before. ‘Life-changing’ is used to describe a lot of things these days, but it truly does apply here. There is no other way to say it than my life has changed for the better.
I changed how I work. In 2022, I did about 50 paid Instagram partnerships. In 2023, I did ~12. In 2024, I did one. That career transition was extremely intentional for me but also, at times, uncomfortable. For reference, I made as much on a single Instagram partnership as I made for my entire advance for SABI. But it wasn’t just about the money, either. I had a lot more question marks when it came to my career. I had evolved how I worked before; I quit my job as an editor in 2019, deciding to take a chance at going freelance. At the time, I wondered if it would be possible, or if I’d regret it. I cried when I told my manager. I was scared. But it was a choice that felt deeply right to me. This one felt that way too. In a lot of ways, I’m able to point to that career choice, and the influencer work that came after, and see how it is exactly what led me to this place. If I never worked for myself, if I never had the flexibility or the creative space, I don’t know how many more years it would have taken me to start writing fiction, or even if I ever would have (a possibility that kind of scares me). Cut to the beginning of 2023, when I launched paid subscriptions here, a choice that meant I could focus on writing fiction more fully, and ultimately gave me the ability to work as hard as I did getting Little One ready to sell in 2024. In other words: I pivoted. Slowly, surely, intentionally. It’s taken a few years for things to click into a place that feels more solid, with slightly fewer question marks, but it was worth it. I was honest with myself about exactly what I wanted, and what I didn’t. The possibility of failure loomed large, but hey. I was going to try.
Substack. Podcast. Writing books. Now, this is my work. This is my focus. And, of course, using social media to promote it all along the way (I’m still an influencer in a lot of ways, after all). I don’t know how long that combination will sustain me financially or even be possible (in the writing world, everything is precarious), but as of now, it is enough, and I feel very, very lucky that that is a possibility for me. Even after selling my second book to a Big 5 publisher, I don’t make quite as much as I made in 2022. I don’t travel or shop as much, either. But I can pay my bills and live comfortably. I don’t feel like I am constantly juggling a thousand things, or that I have to be online constantly. I no longer feel pressure to monetize each facet of my wardrobe or life. I know exactly what my career priorities are. I know exactly what my values are. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I’m proud I gave myself the shot to do something different, and I’m thankful for the community that has supported me along the way. Sometimes I do worry that it makes me more boring now, or that I’ve disappointed people who followed me for fashion or travel or recommendations or a different, sparklier version of me, but I am happy. Of course, I was happy then, too. It was all fun. But I don’t know if I could have said I was content. I am now.
Becoming a Published Author
This will be the year you became a published author, and as I sit here in January 2024, I have so many dreams for that experience. Of course I do. I have even more fears. I could write all of those out, but you know them. Just flip to any entry in the last three years of your five-year journal and you’ll see them spelled out. Instead, what I’ll say is that I hope you read this in 12 months and you find you honored the one goal I have for us in 2024 when it comes to writing: Let gratitude win over comparison. Every time. Even when it feels impossible. Before we go down the rabbit holes of criticism and self-doubt and comparison, I want us to at least start with acknowledging the wild, incredible, life-affirming gift that is writing for a living. Not just books, but on Substack. On Instagram. Everywhere. You write every single day. You write for a living. You are a writer. An author. It’s the most magnificent, incredible, overwhelming gift. Even now, when I start from there, the comparison spirals seem a little less suffocating. A little less consequential. So I hope that in 2024, no matter what happens with publishing your first book or selling the second, I hope that you lean into gratitude for the magic which is living a life filled with writing.
I am so happy to say that I did this. I lived this. I’ve perhaps never fought as hard for anything as I have fought for this mindset. And though I had (and still have) moments of crippling impostor syndrome and self-doubt, it is the single thing that saved me in 2024. It is the thing that made publishing my debut novel feel every bit as good as I wanted it to feel. I know there are good reviews and bad ones. I know there are metrics that are phenomenal and less so. I know all of those things. But I fight to stay in a headspace of gratitude as much as humanly possible. I still traveled down the ol’ comparison rabbit hole at times in 2024, and still do now. It often feels just as overwhelming as ever, but I’ve learned to leave it behind quickly. Mostly, I am just thankful.
And, you know, I don’t care if it’s all cheesy. If it’s woo-woo. Whatever. I have spent a lot of years feeling bad about myself, ruining moments and experiences instead of being present in them. This is one thing I refuse to spoil for myself. I will absorb every good bit of it. I will be thankful until I’m blue in the face. It’s what feels good, and it’s what helps me keep writing. That’s all I need.
A New Office
I have a vision for when you read this in January 2025. You are sitting in your newly renovated writing cottage/office. There is a wood-burning stove crackling in the background. The floors are no longer covered with dirt. The wasps are gone. The skunk, too. The walls look like walls. There are windows everywhere. Maybe it’s snowing outside, everything hushed and covered in white. You are surrounded by art and words and books that inspire you.
I forgot about this part of the letter until I read it just now, and it made me smile ear-to-ear. I’m still not moved into the new space, yet, despite the initial estimate being that I would be in there sometime in September (have I mentioned DIY renovation takes forever?). Sometimes I feel very zen about this, other times I am all out of patience. But reading this part of the letter, I am reminded of how steadfast I am about what I want. I’ve dreamt of having a space exactly like this to work in for years and years and years. Way before we ever stepped foot in this house. And it’s happening. I don’t know if I really believe in manifestation, but this is as close as I can imagine coming to it.
Technically, the cottage is 99 percent done (more photos below, if you’re interested). We are only waiting for the wood burning stove to be installed for a heat source, and then I’ll be in there, writing away. No dirt (well, for the most part) on the floors. No wasps. No skunk. Walls. An L-shaped desk flanked by windows. A gorgeous vintage rug. All my colorful pens and journals spread around me. Joy.
A New Book
And maybe you’ve sold another book. Maybe you’re working on something else.
As for Book 2, as I shared last week… it’s happening! I am so thankful for the response to the news. I very much questioned if anyone would care, so the support has been incredibly heartening. Little One is very special to me, and I am very excited for it to find its readers.
Reading this part of the letter now, though, I can see just how cautiously I worded this goal. I understand why. Partly, it’s because I was scared. Publishing is, as I said, precarious. I had no idea what would happen. But I think it was more complicated than just fear. Yes, my goal was to sell the book. To continue doing this as a career, to maybe have some extra money to — transparently —pay off credit card debt that I’ve carried around for the last two years. After so many years of work on the book, I’m so proud that I made that happen (with much help from my talented agent, I should say). But really, I think the deeper goal was to keep writing, to keep creating. The bigger, harder goal was to keep writing no matter what, even if no one wanted the book. I wanted my future self to keep that in mind, and it is something that is still important for me to remember, always.
The first book didn’t cure my impostor syndrome, and selling the second certainly didn’t, either, though if I’m honest, I think I expected it to. I doubt any specific form of book success would give me that, though I still go through the fantasies and negotiations with myself all the time. If I had that deal/accolade/review/blurb, I would never feel bad about anything ever again… Ha.
If you take all of the above and metabolize it together, 2024 has been very much about finding internal validation before searching for it outside of myself. I’ve come a long way, and it’s still hard, but I am proud.
Taking Care
What is important is that you can look back on the last 12 months and know that through it all, you took care of yourself. You set the boundaries that make you feel like you and you honored them relentlessly. Not because life suddenly got easier, but because you simply chose to be kind to yourself instead of the alternative. You learned to give yourself a break instead of waiting for life to hand you one. You realized that’s what you deserved.
I am regularly very vulnerable here, but honestly, this one is hard for me to unpack. But I’ll try. There is part of me that wants to respond to the question of if I took care of myself in 2024 with a big fat N-O, and that is almost exclusively because I didn’t exercise regularly this year in any meaningful way. Can I be a person who is valuable if I am not thin and I don’t diet and I don’t exercise? If I am completely honest, my mind still says no. The world has coded it that way, I think. It’s a mindset I need to work on all the time.
Still, if I am clear-headed, I can very much say that I was kind to myself in 2024. Even when I didn’t feel “good” about myself, I walked straight into the parts of life that scared me. Sitting in front of a crowd. Publishing a book and opening myself up to being reviewed anonymously online again and again and again. Sending a new book to publishers, sifting through the inevitable rejections. All my life, I have never felt quite good enough (I’m beginning to wonder: Has any woman?). That feeling rarely lifts, even in the moments I expect it to, but I don’t hold myself back from anything anymore because of it. I refuse, I refuse, I refuse. Sometimes self-love feels very far away, but I allow myself to experience life fully, regardless. Sometimes I think there is no greater kindness I could give myself.
Looking Forward
I haven’t written my next letter quite yet, and I don’t know if I’ll share it when I do. Maybe. What I will say now is that in a lot of ways, 2025 feels like the first opportunity I’ve had in a little bit to take a full, deep breath. Life feels still and my brain feels quiet in a way I have not known in years, if ever. I am able to look around and observe so many beautiful things that I think I have ignored before. Look at this life, I want to say, look how good it is. Look how good.
And now, 25+ snapshots from the past month or so, including scenes and notes from vacation, a new favorite book/author, writing cottage updates, new/old matching striped couches, a scrambled egg recipe, and more…
Life lately, in photos.
We went to Winter Walk in Hudson with a bunch of friends in early December, and I was pleasantly surprised to find a copy of SABI in Spotty Dog Books. I had never seen it there before, and it was my first time seeing the version with embossed lettering on the front! I’m not sure if it’s still there, but I signed it, if you find yourself in the neighborhood. And if you’re wondering what else I’m holding in the photo… it’s the remains of a XL bag of kettle corn. Obviously.
I went all out on Christmas decorations this year. We invested in a lot of garland from Afloral, and I can’t recommend it enough. It was pricey but it’s nice knowing that we will be able to use it for years and years to come, and it looks very real IMO.