I love this, Nan. You make that "no" sensibility so visible, so alive. It's part of all of us (but some of us more than others!). And what a beautiful movement from No to Yes in your life.
It's funny, I find myself saying 'no' more now, but from a completely different angle than you're writing about, (saying no to things I don't want to do and used to do because I felt like I should). I love your reading about your growth and the honesty with which you come to the table. It's a feast.
Oh, I'm saying no to a lot of things too. And I bet we share some of same things we say 'no' to. I have some HUGE nos. Learning to say yes to more things, also gave me an education about healthy boundaries. Because I used to say yes to things I never should have, and have left fear, obligation, and guilt behind in favor of excellent emotional self-care. I highly recommend for dessert after the feast! xo
You're just a late bloomer, but you're blooming. I recently wrote about my newly adopted attitude of "failure is an option" and of trying new or hard things for the sake of trying them. Comfort zones are so comfy, but there are wonderful worlds outside of them.
I am! Sure am! Sure are! I love failure being an option. It's true, and if I'm not in a place of fear, then failure doesn't land the same way. And then I can look at whatever it was I failed at and say I tried. That's a lot. It's a beautiful thing. Thanks, Leslie. xo
Wonderful truths you reveal to the world, Nan, and utterly relatable to so many of us. I think I was also in my Fifties when I started to be truly teachable, to have earned enough humility by so many failures in life that I finally admitted that, yeah, maybe I don't know everything, Maybe I can learn something from you (God, Higher Power, friends, whoever). I started opening my mind and my heart—with a lot of resistance!—and began the torturous and slow process of change. No became yes more easily, and I began to feel transformed. Thanks for sharing your transformation with all of us. You offer much hope that it can be done, and peace and happiness is a gift hard-won. Many hugs to you, sister, xoxo
Thank you for another great post Nan. I've fought with the "no-s" so often. I always blamed them on my ADHD (and still do occasionally),but finally, now that I'm 70, I'm gaining some clarity. Saying no to trying new things or doing hard things was so much easier than dealing with the feelings that went with failure. Feelings and emotions are difficult when I don't even have words for some of them. But your post reminds me to keep trying. And I do. At 42 years sober too.
I'm happy that it affirmed your own practice around the "no." At 42 years, sober you said a BIG YES to a life filled with possibility. I'm proud of you, and thrilled that you want to keep trying. Opening to life is amazing and joyful and imbues strength in us when we take on the challenge AND our transformations (even little ones) ripple out and affect the the lives we touch. Most times, I would imagine, we're not even aware of the impact we can make by saying yes when we might want to say no. That's MY experience, strength, and hope talking. And there's a whole lot of grateful humility bundled in. xoN
Oooh, the self-protection bug. I have it. Hey, I resemble this story! It takes such bravery to risk it, to submit to the process, to suffer the slings and arrows... Fortune may be outrageous, but Grace is a lover.
Love you, my dear. I have to keep learning the same lesson over and over. I think it's the toughest assignment to date. One day, I'd like to let go completely of caring about other people's opinions of me. Yesterday, someone well known called me a dabbler. I believe it was said with venom, it was meant to hurt. And it did. For a minute. I let it go. Projection is powerful and mucks up my works. I'm sending forgiveness and love her way. I have nothing to prove. I read a piece by a writer who doesn't have a lot of craft skill. And what I was left with, is that it doesn't matter how skilled we are. What matters is that we're sharing our stories and our hearts with others. And if we're honest our words have a great deal to offer. I AM a dabbler. I think it's a strength. I'm curious and love to explore what gains my interest. It's a quality I cherish in my self. The last few days, as I immersed myself in writing the essay for the anthology, I made a major leap toward gaining skills I didn't possess. Labels are dangerous. They pigeonhole us and can keep us stuck. The only word I care to describe myself with, at the moment in time, is "Nan." I'm Nan and my mother is Grace. xo
I hear you. I get it. It's still sometimes the first place I go. But lately, I've been surprising myself when Yes is spontaneous. It's doable. Have you asked fear what it's trying to protect you from? I swear, it helps. xo
Breakfast with Nan this morning was such a treat! Your story was beautiful. I know you're describing your experience, and yet....you describe me to a T! Two different people on two different coasts from two different worlds, and yet such similar inner struggles. Such great wisdom--funny and poignant both. Enjoyed every minute with you this morning my friend. I've missed this and you. xo
I love how honest and real you are in your writing, unafraid to share tough struggles. And it's beautiful how you describe that journey going from the NOs to the YESes (not that I mean it was easy! but the fact you were able to do it). And as for the witticisms about the names, it made me think of...for a while back in the day, people were always saying "Sarah Smile!" to me (from the Hall and Oates song). Mostly I didn't mind that, and thought it was funny, but at times if I was in a stressed out mode, a smile could be hard to come by. It's like telling someone to "just relax!" when they are anxious! Anyway thank you always for your writing and for being you! xo
Oh, Sarah! I'm glad you enjoyed the post. I've written several versions of it, and this is the one I currently like the best. It had to change because I've changed. And I HATE it when people tell me to smile. It's controlling and rude. I smile when I want to smile. My feelings are mine. I've been known to say, "smile," to others because I didn't want to feel my feelings and my projection about why it made me uncomfortable to see someone look unhappy. I know what it's about, too. I gave myself the job of making my father laugh and smile when he was moody because I thought his mood was about me. If I couldn't cheer him up, it confirmed in my mixed up head that I was right, he was mad at me. It's not always about ME....xo
That’s hard about your father. Totally understand. It is great though to get more awareness about that dynamic, and to realize that other people’s moods are not your fault. One of the good things i have noticed about getting older is that i feel i have a better perspective and understanding of other people’s behavior as well ad my own. A constant work in progress 🌸
I have one of those nameplates on my desk that people have in offices. It says, "Work in Progress." I love that thing. It's also the name on my internet router! xo
This: "When that NO wants to pop out of my mouth, I pause and get curious." That says it all, Nan. And it's a huge climb from where you were most of your life. Kudos to you for stretching and growing into the amazing and brilliant and creative and funny Nan you are today. xo!
Thanks, Susie J! Is it okay that I called you Susie J? I have an sweet former gf whose name is Susan. I still call her Suzy Q! I have no idea why, but I do. But people have preferences, so if you hate it, I'll revise. xo
How about if you call me Sus (pronounced Suz), as my family does? An ex-husband called me Susie, and honestly he meant it to be demeaning, so I have that association. But Sus has never bothered me. xo!
Wow! well done.. how amazing that you've crushed that fear to the point that you can write this so freely and express yourself so well.. laced with the witticisms that I look forward to! I love funny writers.. such a good method of underscoring pain, whether intentional or not. Yay yay Nan!
Thank you for all the lovely things you just said. Guess what? I believe you.
My sense of humor is something I'm working on developing in my writing. It's really important to me as it's a part of myself that I value. And, WE NEED TO LAUGH AT OURSELVES MORE!
Humans are very funny, intentional or not. I'm grateful that I touched something in you, Caro. xo
I love this, Nan. You make that "no" sensibility so visible, so alive. It's part of all of us (but some of us more than others!). And what a beautiful movement from No to Yes in your life.
Thanks, Pamela! We have to visit. Soon. I’ll get in touch. xo
❤️
"Don't tell me what to do. Don't tell me what to say."
Reading as Leslie Gore's "You Don't Own Me" plays in the background.
I want to treat your feisty little girl self to an ice-cream sundae. Give em hell, Hon.
I love ice cream! It's always been my favorite food group. Love you, dear! xo
Yes, yes, Nan.
It's funny, I find myself saying 'no' more now, but from a completely different angle than you're writing about, (saying no to things I don't want to do and used to do because I felt like I should). I love your reading about your growth and the honesty with which you come to the table. It's a feast.
Oh, I'm saying no to a lot of things too. And I bet we share some of same things we say 'no' to. I have some HUGE nos. Learning to say yes to more things, also gave me an education about healthy boundaries. Because I used to say yes to things I never should have, and have left fear, obligation, and guilt behind in favor of excellent emotional self-care. I highly recommend for dessert after the feast! xo
You're just a late bloomer, but you're blooming. I recently wrote about my newly adopted attitude of "failure is an option" and of trying new or hard things for the sake of trying them. Comfort zones are so comfy, but there are wonderful worlds outside of them.
I am! Sure am! Sure are! I love failure being an option. It's true, and if I'm not in a place of fear, then failure doesn't land the same way. And then I can look at whatever it was I failed at and say I tried. That's a lot. It's a beautiful thing. Thanks, Leslie. xo
Beautiful how your wings keep growing.
Thanks, Wendy. I like that image. xo
I'm so glad that you said "Yes" to this essay, and I cannot wait to read the Nan that emerged after all of the other shit fell away.
Wonderful truths you reveal to the world, Nan, and utterly relatable to so many of us. I think I was also in my Fifties when I started to be truly teachable, to have earned enough humility by so many failures in life that I finally admitted that, yeah, maybe I don't know everything, Maybe I can learn something from you (God, Higher Power, friends, whoever). I started opening my mind and my heart—with a lot of resistance!—and began the torturous and slow process of change. No became yes more easily, and I began to feel transformed. Thanks for sharing your transformation with all of us. You offer much hope that it can be done, and peace and happiness is a gift hard-won. Many hugs to you, sister, xoxo
Hugs, back, Marilea. xo See you later! xo
Great post, Nan - much of which is very recognisable.
Thanks, Pam! xo
Thank you for another great post Nan. I've fought with the "no-s" so often. I always blamed them on my ADHD (and still do occasionally),but finally, now that I'm 70, I'm gaining some clarity. Saying no to trying new things or doing hard things was so much easier than dealing with the feelings that went with failure. Feelings and emotions are difficult when I don't even have words for some of them. But your post reminds me to keep trying. And I do. At 42 years sober too.
I'm happy that it affirmed your own practice around the "no." At 42 years, sober you said a BIG YES to a life filled with possibility. I'm proud of you, and thrilled that you want to keep trying. Opening to life is amazing and joyful and imbues strength in us when we take on the challenge AND our transformations (even little ones) ripple out and affect the the lives we touch. Most times, I would imagine, we're not even aware of the impact we can make by saying yes when we might want to say no. That's MY experience, strength, and hope talking. And there's a whole lot of grateful humility bundled in. xoN
Oooh, the self-protection bug. I have it. Hey, I resemble this story! It takes such bravery to risk it, to submit to the process, to suffer the slings and arrows... Fortune may be outrageous, but Grace is a lover.
I love this. I’m a dabbler too.
Love you, my dear. I have to keep learning the same lesson over and over. I think it's the toughest assignment to date. One day, I'd like to let go completely of caring about other people's opinions of me. Yesterday, someone well known called me a dabbler. I believe it was said with venom, it was meant to hurt. And it did. For a minute. I let it go. Projection is powerful and mucks up my works. I'm sending forgiveness and love her way. I have nothing to prove. I read a piece by a writer who doesn't have a lot of craft skill. And what I was left with, is that it doesn't matter how skilled we are. What matters is that we're sharing our stories and our hearts with others. And if we're honest our words have a great deal to offer. I AM a dabbler. I think it's a strength. I'm curious and love to explore what gains my interest. It's a quality I cherish in my self. The last few days, as I immersed myself in writing the essay for the anthology, I made a major leap toward gaining skills I didn't possess. Labels are dangerous. They pigeonhole us and can keep us stuck. The only word I care to describe myself with, at the moment in time, is "Nan." I'm Nan and my mother is Grace. xo
I still struggle with all of this and say no to most things. I’m still learning. Thank you for sharing this story.
I hear you. I get it. It's still sometimes the first place I go. But lately, I've been surprising myself when Yes is spontaneous. It's doable. Have you asked fear what it's trying to protect you from? I swear, it helps. xo
Breakfast with Nan this morning was such a treat! Your story was beautiful. I know you're describing your experience, and yet....you describe me to a T! Two different people on two different coasts from two different worlds, and yet such similar inner struggles. Such great wisdom--funny and poignant both. Enjoyed every minute with you this morning my friend. I've missed this and you. xo
Thanks, lovely! I'm here. Where've you been? How was the grandboy-boy's 1st birthday? xo
It was so fun. And busy! Love all those little boys so much.
I’m hunkered down doing my flower farm workshop right now. It’s intense. Learning something new is hard! 😉
It can be hard....but it's also fun! xo
I love how honest and real you are in your writing, unafraid to share tough struggles. And it's beautiful how you describe that journey going from the NOs to the YESes (not that I mean it was easy! but the fact you were able to do it). And as for the witticisms about the names, it made me think of...for a while back in the day, people were always saying "Sarah Smile!" to me (from the Hall and Oates song). Mostly I didn't mind that, and thought it was funny, but at times if I was in a stressed out mode, a smile could be hard to come by. It's like telling someone to "just relax!" when they are anxious! Anyway thank you always for your writing and for being you! xo
Oh, Sarah! I'm glad you enjoyed the post. I've written several versions of it, and this is the one I currently like the best. It had to change because I've changed. And I HATE it when people tell me to smile. It's controlling and rude. I smile when I want to smile. My feelings are mine. I've been known to say, "smile," to others because I didn't want to feel my feelings and my projection about why it made me uncomfortable to see someone look unhappy. I know what it's about, too. I gave myself the job of making my father laugh and smile when he was moody because I thought his mood was about me. If I couldn't cheer him up, it confirmed in my mixed up head that I was right, he was mad at me. It's not always about ME....xo
That’s hard about your father. Totally understand. It is great though to get more awareness about that dynamic, and to realize that other people’s moods are not your fault. One of the good things i have noticed about getting older is that i feel i have a better perspective and understanding of other people’s behavior as well ad my own. A constant work in progress 🌸
I have one of those nameplates on my desk that people have in offices. It says, "Work in Progress." I love that thing. It's also the name on my internet router! xo
This: "When that NO wants to pop out of my mouth, I pause and get curious." That says it all, Nan. And it's a huge climb from where you were most of your life. Kudos to you for stretching and growing into the amazing and brilliant and creative and funny Nan you are today. xo!
Thanks, Susie J! Is it okay that I called you Susie J? I have an sweet former gf whose name is Susan. I still call her Suzy Q! I have no idea why, but I do. But people have preferences, so if you hate it, I'll revise. xo
How about if you call me Sus (pronounced Suz), as my family does? An ex-husband called me Susie, and honestly he meant it to be demeaning, so I have that association. But Sus has never bothered me. xo!
I would never know your backstory from the Nan I know !
You seem so self assured Yes Nan !
Thanks, Theresa. I was kind of a mess for a very long time. When the book comes out, you can read that story. It'll probably explain everything. xo
Wow! well done.. how amazing that you've crushed that fear to the point that you can write this so freely and express yourself so well.. laced with the witticisms that I look forward to! I love funny writers.. such a good method of underscoring pain, whether intentional or not. Yay yay Nan!
Thank you for all the lovely things you just said. Guess what? I believe you.
My sense of humor is something I'm working on developing in my writing. It's really important to me as it's a part of myself that I value. And, WE NEED TO LAUGH AT OURSELVES MORE!
Humans are very funny, intentional or not. I'm grateful that I touched something in you, Caro. xo