I've kept going

And 49 other things that mattered.

Today, there are 50 days left until my 50th birthday. Lots of people make lists of things they want to do before or within their landmark year, be it 50 or 75 or 30. But I didn’t want another list of boxes to check. In fact, another to-do list is the very last thing I need at the moment.

And furthermore, I don’t often reflect on how much I’ve already done, how far I’ve already come. It’s easy to keep pushing ahead. It’s so capitalism, so hustle-culture, and I’m so tired of the push. I have no business signing up for skydiving or planning a cathartic walk through Spain. Plus, I despise the term bucket list. In the year-of-our-Lord-2024-post-election, most of us are simply trying to get through each day. What I could spend weeks doing instead of planning is laying out a mental tape measure over the ground I’ve already covered. Fifty years seems to me a very long time.

In the year 1900, a white woman’s average life expectancy was 48.3 years. That number, from barely 100 years ago, gives me pause. To say every day is a gift is to capture what’s true in such an overused way it’s lost its punch. We are rarely taught how to remember and honor the great distances we’ve already traversed and survived.

I’m horrible at framing photos. Whatever you’re imagining is a sub-par job in terms of printing photos, preserving your children’s memories, putting family photos on display, printing photo books after vacations…it’s much worse than that. Though I’m not sure I’ll ever fill the 12 small ovals with school photos in the special frames I bought years ago for my now-adult children, I can take the next 50 days to recall the small victories in my story, sans visuals.

I’m always writing about the hard stuff. But I want to focus on the choices I made that have brought me to this moment, things I’ve already done and some I thankfully haven’t done. It’s not a gratitude list, though I am grateful. It’s not a list of personal flexes, because if you’ve spent any time with my writing, you know I have no interest in selling myself as having it all figured out. Far from it.

And still, what motivates me to look back instead of ahead is that when life feels so overwhelmingly hard, I struggle to count the steps I’ve already taken as significant. When it seems I still have so far to go and it’s taking all my effort to navigate the present fog, I get a gross amnesia for how far I’ve already come. To remember that each baby step meant something will help keep me moving, especially now. Which brings me to the first thing I’m glad I’ve chosen:

1. I’ve kept going.

After the losses, the crises, the displacement, the abuse, the pandemic, the cancer, after the disasters that would not stop coming, I’ve stayed here and I’ve kept moving. I think of all the pairs of shoes I’ve owned in 50 years. I think of all the steps I’ve taken, both literally and figuratively. I think of the Vans and the stilettos, the winter boots and the flip-flops, the fuzzy slippers, the tap shoes, the roller skates, and the pointy, leopard-print flats (which I’m wearing right now).

Every step mattered. I kept putting one foot in front of the other. No matter how many times I tripped like a front-door camera-capture on TikTok, I kept getting up. I’m proud of that.

I’m so glad I kept getting up.

Please follow along on my daily posts for #50thingsI’vealreadydone on Instagram. I’ll drop my posts (on Insta stories) into a highlight each week for the ones you might miss.

Keep going, friend.

Later this week, I’m dropping a new Substack essay where I’ll share a vulnerable story on drowning (not literally), and how to keep your head above water right now.

---

how are you holding up?

After two really amazing months of groups, my SoulCare Circles are on pause until January. However, my one-on-one virtual SoulCare sessions are live through the end of the year. These are kind of like having a 1-hour coffee together over Zoom and processing whatever you’re struggling with. It is not by any stretch a substitute for therapy, but it is probably half the price. I’m here to chat about faith questions/deconstruction, difficult relationships, destructive marriages, emotional abuse, separation, divorce, singlehood, co-parenting, parenting teens, empty-nest-hood, life transitions, and more.

To set up a free consultation, just hit “reply” if you’ve received this Substack via email, or comment with your email address and I’ll reach out to you.

---

read this.

Come As You Are, by Emily Nagoski, Ph. D.

If you didn’t have access to comprehensive sex education in your younger years, you need to read this. Let me say this another way. If you grew up getting your “sex education” from James Dobson, Elizabeth Elliot, a youth pastor, or all of the above, you really need to read this. It starts like a biology class I took in college, but by the middle, I thought, “Wow, this is such an important book.” By the end, I was telling everyone I knew it was mandatory reading. Evidently, you don’t know you believe socially conditioned and popularized myths about sex until someone tells you they’re myths. I’m gonna go ahead and blame patriarchy for that one.

It is written primarily to women, but I recommend it for anyone who loves women, is raising young women, or wants to have sex with women. There’s even a sequel, which I’ll be reading soon, and which I’ll review at some point. In my opinion, the author, Emily Nagoski, could not have navigated sex and sexuality in a more approachable, informative, and respectful manner, from the first page to the last.

---

Thanks for reading all the way through. What a privilege it is to have a few minutes of your time and attention.

You are doing better than you think. You are full of glory, inside and out.

You are the Beloved,

Leslie