volume forty-one
I need a hero
I was recently asked who my role models were when I was a child and did I think I was honouring them now as an adult — this week, this month, this year?
I couldn't answer the question. When I tried to think who they were I thought immediately about how as a child, I just really wanted to obey my Mum and impress my Dad. I didn’t have a voice of my own yet, and I am not sure I felt like I could explore finding it and it showed in the pressure I put on myself to fit a certain mould(s). I tried to think of people outside of those two — people I looked up to. That was my older sister, and still is, but that was also with a side of being terrified of her. She was so intimidatingly cool and could often also switch from being my best friend to my enemy in seconds. She just had that kind of power. Regardless, I was ready to soak up any attention she wanted to hand me. I can see now, how she had a lot of pressure on her to be the popular older sister also known as the nonchalant trendsetter, as well as the friend and the third parent trying to execute authority a lot of the time all while just trying to be a kid herself wanting to play barbies with me in between making me dinner. She wore many hats from a young age and I am so grateful for her.
However, what about people outside my family that I might consider role models? A teacher? A friend? A neighbour? Someone who worked at a business I frequented with my parents? A relative? Someone I thought, “hey, wouldn’t it be cool to be them when I grow up?” Did I even have role models as a child? Did I forget them or did they not exist? All I can think about in terms of other people in my life are characters from TV who I desperately wanted to be. Why not real-life people? What was it about the glamorous people on the screen with their wonderful lives and clothes and homes and friends? Was I trying to escape or was there truly a lack of real-life people to pick from? Why can’t I remember so many parts (like easily pinpointing a role model) of my childhood that other family members seem to recall with ease? Trauma blocked out some memories, but this? I don’t know. It has me spiraling in wonder and it’s upsetting to think maybe role models never existed for me then.
Do you know yours? I would love for you to let me know in the comments, so I can get to know you better. I might even be sparked to recall mine by hearing yours. Or do you have your own question you’d like me to (try to) answer? You can ask it here.
What this question did prompt was for me to think about my present-day role models, or even dare I say, heroes? Firstly making sure I could name some (I can, quite a few) and then check in with myself to see if I was honouring them while also honouring myself. I don’t know. I am working on that I suppose, every day with each thought and action. And when I get off the path, I try and catch and correct myself. It is the catching and correcting I am better and better at all the time.
There are a few things in the air right now about how I am going to spend the next year, and they all boil down to me hopefully being able to exclaim a HUGE YES to that when asked at a later date.
What I can talk about with certainty is that this coming week I am going to be in the same room as some of my heroes. I have spent a questionable sum of money — that perhaps I shouldn’t have — to take myself to some shows as part of the Netflix Festival in LA. Maybe it wasn’t money I should be spending, but what is should? I know what regret is and that I will not have. Don’t get the idea that I am rolling extra money, the truth is that I am willing to work extra hours and extra hard on my return to make it back up because that is far more appealing than regret.
In your thirties, what makes someone your role model? It is that they are inspiring. They are who I want to be when I grow up. They are someone who, through existing as they are, inspire me to be a better version of myself. I am fortunate enough to see some on screen, read about some in books and be around some in my day to day life and wonder how I got so lucky.
When I want to honour the heroes I will be around this coming week, I decide to take less bullshit, or ask better questions, or not let a man speak over me, or give back time to people who could benefit from it, or ignore the critics and don’t let them change or silence me, or be a better listener, or be curious about learning, or use my voice for good, or use humour to heal (myself and others), or have hard conversations that lead to positive outcomes or deeper truths, or follow my damn gut, or create, or stick with those who make me feel good and detach with kindess from those who don’t, or don’t stop working for it when it means something to me, or seek growth constantly, or defy the age barriers put on women, or do what I fucking love and do whatever I need to in between in order to make it happen, or be kind first and foremost, or own up to my mistakes and learn from them, or make ‘em laugh, or decide what is meant for me and what is meant for the public and know what to keep sacred and what could benefit by sharing and not be scared to do so, or to be still doing what I love and fighting the good fight and following my dreams even when people assume I should be done or that I should be doing something else with my time — and proving them wrong. At its core, there is helpfulness, compassion, growth, dream-chasing and badassery. Because without those things, I am just floating along existing, taking up space.
I love you,
Lauren xoxo
Three things I struggled with this week:
✈️ That fondness of landing somewhere familiar for vacation and the knowing gut feeling of “I am home”. But also the guilt of also knowing I have so many homes. What is home?
☁️ On the same note, loving feeling settled in my new home but knowing it is only for a few more months. Hanging onto the excitement of what is to come, without getting myself out of being here in this moment while I am here.
🫖Missing meetings. At first, when I moved west, I needed to adjust to my new schedule and get settled, then as soon as that happened I slept for a week or more because I was sick, and now I am away. I have lived in my new home for three weeks already and I am yet to go to any local recovery meetings — something I am so grateful to have an abundance of in this new city, not to mention with no language barrier. When I am back from vacation I will go. I know I need to and oh boy do I ever want to.
Three blessings from this week:
😂 Laughter in the house. Having spent so long alone, it is magical music to my ears when I hear one of my two beautiful roommates laugh from somewhere in the house.
☀️ Sunshine! To be back in a place where it is hot, hot, hot makes me feel so grateful and more on my “chasing an endless summer” path. Waking up without cold toes and adding layers means I spring out of bed at 5am with absolute ease and can hear morning birds while doing so.
🐕 You ever just sit on a patio with one of your favourite humans and acknowledge all the dogs that walk by with live commentary and floof factor discussion?
Three goals for the coming week:
🧘 Get back into my swing of mediation. It is less that I am terrible at it, because I know I always get better with the practice, but more the time of day I could be doing it. I always intend to do it then the day gets the better of me. Any tips for how to make sure I do it right at the start of my day? When do you meditate? I usually start my day at 4:30am by washing my face, making tea and logging into Writers’ Hour at 5am. I don’t really want to start my day any earlier… is it bad if maybe the first ten minutes of my writing session is mediation? Is that actually a good thing? I would love to hear your thoughts.
📖 Read a gosh darn book while on vacation. Switch phone in hand for book in hand for actual vacation feels. The goal would be this in general day-to-day. Baby steps.
✔️ I am feeling a little off track with some of my goals and trying to narrow them down, at least for now. I thrive when there is something/s to focus on and right now I am feeling a little floaty. Did the messiness of this volume show it? Haha. I will say though, that I have begun this process and there are some things I have ruled out as a no. I feel powerful in knowing what isn’t for me, that I once thought was.
What I am enjoying this week:
Have you heard of poem-a-day? They are “the only daily poetry series publishing new work by today’s poets”. They send you a new poem, straight to your email, every day, with a little blurb about the author and the work. It also comes with an audio version of the poem which is just a wonderful start to my day. This is the first email I read, before any others, to buffer jumping from creative and calm mornings to a workday headspace.
hi, lauren deborah! is free for subscribers every week. feel I am not sharing enough? ask me a question and I will answer it in a future post.
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1. Morning pages at 5 am *are* meditation, so you’re covered
2. I’d be surprised if there wasn’t a meeting, even informal, at the festival. Ask info desk. Go!
3. Kid hero: Nancy Drew and Harriet the Spy. Yeah, they’re fictional but whatever. Adult hero: I have said this before, but lately, YOU. Thanks for inspiring me to be more seen, launch a substack and get over myself.
Loved your newsletter as always! I recently did an exercise where I wrote down 4 well-known people I admired. I realised that three out of four of them don't use social media and it became clear that that is why I like them so much because what they have to say always feels so fresh and uninfluenced by social narratives from those spaces (they are Zadie Smith, Phoebe Waller Bridge, Michaela Coel). Also re meditation- my sister suggests making a dedicated space for the meditation that is always set up, if you can. It can be anything from an elaborate altar to simply a pillow and a candle in a corner. Having the space ready makes for one less thing to think about allowing you to more easily drop into that space. Also, I love the idea of meditating for ten minutes at the beginning of Writers' Hour.