FEELING STUCK IS A BLESSING?! & Other Shocking Things I've Learned At 38
ALSO—I'm SO, SO F*CKING YOUNG!?
In exactly one week’s time, I’ll be thirty-nine.
This is *probably* where you expect me to wax some disempowering bullshit about how “I can’t believe I’m going to be so OLD!”
Oh, honey. If *only* you knew! The opposite is true. I can’t believe I’m going to be so YOUNG.
My thirty-eighth year, you see, aged me decades—in a *good* way. A memoir’s worth of life unfolded before me in twelve short months—I can’t believe I’m coming out the other side, only thirty-fucking-nine!
Which, as an aside here, please listen to your lesbian big sister: 39 is so, so YOUNG. So is 49. So is 59! And personally, I thought it’d take me eighty damn years to garner this kind of invaluable insight and wisdom.
Even though this year hurt like hell—and some days I still wake up angry and some days I just can’t stop crying and some days I just behave in ways that are straight up WEIRD—I swear to Lana Del Rey: I’m grateful for the expensive, rare crystals of wisdom I unearthed in the rock bottom that was my thirty-eighth year on planet earth. They’re safely stored in my tattered Gucci bag—the one I take with me everywhere I go. And on the days when I can sense I’m losing myself, I can simply stick my hand into my purse and touch my sacred wisdom crystals, and I’ll be reminded that when you know something, you can’t ever unknow it.
I know: this sounds woo-woo, which isn’t exactly my beat as a writer, but fuck it! Sometimes the truth is as woo as a Santa Monica “psychic.”
So here goes: I feel, weirdly, like, reborn?
Like the Zara Barrie that existed for thirty-seven years was a totally different person than she is now? Like she was someone I once knew and loved, but is no longer? And this new version of Zara Barrie is ready to experience the world with fresh eyes! Grief makes you view e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g differently—it’s almost like being a little kid again, before the culture married you into specific ideas of how things “should” be.
The landscape ahead of me is green and vast—but most importantly, I am finally SURE that I know how to care for those stunning wildflowers when they decide to break through the soil. By which I mean: I’m finally equipped with the wisdom and the tools to care for all the good things I just know are coming my way.
Here are eight WILD takeaways of thirty-eight. (BTW, there are WAY more. But I don’t want to bore you with a ten-thousand-word essay…)
1. Standing in your power is *wildly* different than giving your energy over to the darkness.
My entire life, I’ve stood by the ethos of “where attention goes, energy flows.”
This is WHY I never let myself get all riled up when I catch wind that someone has stolen an idea of mine, is mimicking my unique voice as a writer, talking shit, doubting my abilities and the rest of the boring bullshit that just comes with working in a hyper-competitive industry.
And honestly? I’ve watched my peers lose years of their life getting all up in arms about “who said what” or “how so and so copied their concept”—and it’s always—to me felt like a massive waste of fucking time! Time that could be spent creating more art. After all, the truth always reveals itself, doesn’t it? Just keep doing the good work, and the good work shall speak for itself.
I still believe that.
But this year, when I found myself stalked, threatened, and harassed in an eerily diabolical way—I learned that there’s a difference between letting the petty go—and Standing In Your Power.
At first, I did what I usually do: I did nothing.
But as the situation escalated into frightening territory and began to threaten my safety, my friends and family begged me to go to the police. I didn’t want to go. I told myself (and everyone else) that I was “protecting my sparkle” by not giving this toxic situation an ounce of my precious attention.
And then one afternoon, I heard a wise, old smoker’s voice boom into my brain. It was a woman’s voice, and she bore the same gruff New York accent of my ancestors, “honey, don’t kid yourself. You’re not going to the police because of this whole protecting your sparkle bullshit. You’re SCARED of this person, so you’re shrinking into nothingness. But a Barrie bitch doesn’t play small. This is a calling to stand in your FUCKING POWER.”
So, with trembling Bambi legs, I grabbed my most bad ass New York friend, Little Michelle, and together we went to the police.
I realize now—and girls, boys, and everyone in between pay close attention—advocating for yourself, standing up against someone who is actively trying to scare you, speaking the truth even when your voice shakes like a category five earthquake—is not channelling your energy into the darkness, darling. It’s the opposite.
You’re showing the universe what you're made of. You’re showing *yourself* what you’re made of.
Which leads me seamlessly to lesson two.
2. Standing up to the darkness doesn’t beget more darkness; it floods you with so much light—you BECOME the light.
When you’re a *good* person with a *pure* heart, and for whatever reason the darkness comes for you, if you choose to advocate for the light rather than hide in the shadows in the darkness, the light will reward you.
With what? More light. So much light, you become part of the light. And when you are the light you can shine that shit on anyone who needs it.
3. When you feel stuck, you’re not *actually* stuck! You’re ACTIVELY moving the needle of your life.
A year ago, I felt more stuck than I’ve ever felt in my entire life. I was running on the proverbial treadmill harder and faster than my heart could handle—but I wasn’t getting anywhere.
But today I look at my life and I’m floored by the distance I’ve traveled in one short year.
And all that time, working my ass off but never seeing a single result, I was actually planting powerful seeds. And seeds, my darling, take time to grow.
When you’re in the stage of watching everything you’ve planted bloom, it feels like you’re in a state of movement, but that’s actually the moment of stuckness. You get to be still and simply enjoy the fruits of your labor without this overwhelming desire to MOVE.
The act of planting seeds—of running on that proverbial treadmill—that’s not a period of stuckness—it’s a season of tremendous movement! Don’t forget that! When you feel stuck, just remember: You’re not. And so long as you keep tending to your garden, so long as you stay uncomfortable and keep going, going, going even with zero results coming to fruition, the flowers will emerge. Trust that. Just because you can’t see the flowers doesn’t mean they aren’t busily preparing to explode from the earth and bask in the sun.
4. Feeling STUCK is a blessing.
This year, I learned something radical! Feeling stuck is one of the greatest things that could ever happen to you! It’s your higher-self sending you a very important message: YOU ARE MADE FOR MORE, BITCH.™
Listen to your lesbian big sis: you wouldn’t be consumed with the wildly uncomfortable sensation of stuck-ness if you were perfectly content in your life. Stuckness is a fabulous signal, to get out of your comfort zone because something BIG and AMAZING is on the horizon for you.
Look: If you didn’t feel stuck, you’d stay exactly where you are, there would be no discomfort, no inner turmoil, no instinct to move forward. Which is like, fine. For some people. But not for us. You and I? We were made for extraordinary things! We were meant to evolve and grow and experience the richness of LIFE, to her fullest extent. So when stuck-ness comes for you—thank LANA DEL REY—’cause you’re about to level the fuck up.
5. Being broke can break you—or it CAN MAKE YOU.
I’m not ashamed to admit: your girl went through some SCARY periods of financial scarcity last year.
I didn’t know how I was going to survive, let alone pay the rent, some months.
But you know what? I got to a place of extreme desperation, which sounds negative, I know—but weirdly, it wasn’t.
The desperation forced me to finally get out of my own way.
All of a sudden, not putting myself out there for the high-paying gig out of fear of rejection—it wasn’t an option anymore.
Being too shy to ask for the money I’ve always known I’m worthy of receiving, it wasn’t an option anymore.
Being too embarrassed to promote myself and my services as a life coach all over the internet, it wasn’t an option anymore. Even when I got bullied for it, I shamelessly kept going—I had to.
I was in survival mode—and survival mode has a way of clearing the cobwebs of bullshit that prevent you from really going for it.
Survival mode makes you stop giving a shit about what ANYONE thinks of your hustle.
Survival mode forces you to think out of the box, get creative, act on instinct and to put it simply: figure it the fuck out.
I no longer give two shits what anyone thinks, rejection doesn’t scare me—being unable to pay my bills does. And through this I was able to carve out a business I LOVE.
Now that I’ve broken the pattern of playing small in my career—the sky is the fucking limit!
6. No one has the power to make you happy.
Love is wonderful. I’m a lover-girl and always will be.
But here’s what I’ve learned this year: healthy relationships are healing and beautiful, but they won’t magically turn the ship of your life around.
They aren’t a long-term salve for the grief or pain or depression you experienced *before* you met this incredible person. It can feel that way at first—but that’s because when you first get together with someone, you’re high as a kite from the flood of oxytocin and other feel-good chemicals that swish through you in the beginning!
But no high lasts forever.
And when the buzz wears off, you will be faced with all the same demons you were dealing with before. The job that dissatisfies you. The grief of loss. The sadness within. To put it bluntly: No one can cure you of your shit. Only you can.
7. Grief is kooky, GO WITH IT.
If you’re in GRIEF: One day, you’ll be flying high in the sky, feeling angelic and evolved and “at peace”; the next, you’ll be crafting unhinged emails to your landlord.
One day, you’ll be weeping in the arms of a trusted friend; the next, you’ll be scream-crying with a random drunk at the dive bar.
One day, you’ll believe in God with every fiber of your being; the next, you’ll think faith is for the delusional.
One day you’ll be wearing a chic blazer to work; the next you’ll realize you’re on a ZOOM call with your most lucrative client whilst wearing your fucking sports bra.
She doesn’t make sense in the moment.
But trust her.
She knows exactly what she’s doing.
She’s giving you what you didn’t even know you needed and healing you in ways you won’t understand until much later. Don’t resist her eccentricity, embrace it! She’s like the kooky lesbian aunt who beats to her own drum, and despite being the misunderstood oddball at the family gathering, when you dig deep—you realize she’s healthier and has a way better sense of self than the rest!
8. Nothing FUCKING MATTERS.
I can’t believe I used to waste so much time stressed about my career!
Spiraling about something controversial, I may or may not have said after the second glass of wine!
Feeling ashamed that I’m not “further along” or that my body isn’t “perfect.”
When my brother was dying, he wasn’t worried about how his body looked—he just wanted to have a body.
He wasn’t worried about the next accolade—he just wanted another day to laugh with his friends and engage in lively debates about art.
He wasn’t spiraling about anything—he just wanted to eat a bagel one last time.
I learned that anything outside of LIVING in a functioning body, surrounded by people you love, is not worth stressing about.
I learned life is too short and too precious to become consumed with petty bullshit that when you’re on your deathbed?—none of it means SHIT, babe.
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