Outfits for Boat Rides, Dance Parties, and Not Letting Your Worst Fear Become Reality

I was leaning against a cash register the first time a magazine published one of my essays online. And I mean that literally.

I was working the morning shift at a bookstore when the article went live. There was no one watching, so I did what any 23-year-old secretly pocketing a cell phone on the clock would do: I texted my parents. I told my co-workers. TikTok didn’t exist and Facebook was in, so I’m sure I shared a link there, too. Published, eek! When the regulars arrived, the ones who knew me better than some of my friends, we rejoiced.

I tried to busy myself to keep my feet on the ground, straightening up the always disheveled fiction section before moving on to romance, but it didn’t work. My body floated above the sales floor with main character energy for the remainder of my shift. There wasn’t a disgruntled customer in Irvine who could bring me down that day, and I’m sure some of them tried.

I had my own blog at the time, which still exists on Blogspot if you’re sleuthy enough to find it. (Please don’t.) But there’s nothing like seeing your writing on someone else’s website, a byline beside a photo of your smiling face. Yours. It was a digital stamp of approval, a nudge from the universe—or in this case, a gruff editor named Sam—to keep writing no matter what.

And I did keep writing. I became a regular contributor to that online magazine, landed a publishing credential in their e-book, and began writing for other independent outlets, too. I wrote about long-distance relationships, getting sober for the first time, and strange encounters in San Francisco I’m not sure I’d share today. I kept going and going, until eventually, I stopped.

It was manageable to keep up with freelance writing when I was working at a bookstore with no kids waiting for me at home. Once I got my heeled leather boot in the door with an exciting role at a PR agency, I tried to continue writing and pitching but couldn’t keep up. And so, gradually and then all at once, I stopped publishing personal essays and wrote captions for beauty brands instead.

In November, 2014, I posted the following on my blog:

Thank you so much for those of you who took the time to read and share my blog over the past couple years. Starting this website in 2012 has opened so many doors for me. Unfortunately, I have decided to say goodbye for now. With full-time school, work, an internship, and more, I just do not have the time to maintain this space the way I would like to. After all, you shouldn't half-ass anything. Whatever you do, always use your full ass.

The timeline here feels eerily familiar.

I’ve been thinking about the elation I felt behind the cash wrap that day because it’s not unlike the thrill I feel now when I publish my weekly newsletter or collaborate with another writer. Every new subscriber, comment, and restack feels like reminders that, once again, I’m on the right track—that maybe, just maybe, I might write for a living one day. But then I remember what happened over a decade ago when I stepped into a new full-time marketing role after finding my groove as a writer. When I stopped writing for years.

I’m scared about this happening again. Honestly, it’s one of the reasons I’ve been so persistent about my self-imposed Sunday deadline. It holds me accountable, helping prevent potential breaks from becoming permanent.

“You’ll always be able to pick it back up again,” my husband said when I mentioned I might need to spend less time writing if I want to find a job before 2029.

He’s right, but also…what if he’s not? What if, just like my transition from bookseller to girl boss in 2014, I find it all too hard to maintain? I’m hoping that voicing my biggest fear here will make it incapable of becoming real.

Earlier this summer, I shared that I was ready to close out my chapter as a stay-at-home mom and return to paid work. A couple months later, I still feel the same pull. But as I navigate the relentless tasks of job hunting and brand building while continuing to be my kids’ primary caretaker, I’m realizing that something has to give. The cadence of this newsletter might have to change.

If I miss a week or two, will I come back or disappear like I did in my 20s?

It’s easy for me to spend every working minute writing because it’s my favorite thing to do. Once I get past the blinking cursor and find my flow with a draft, time seems to wrap its arms around me until no time is left at all. But I don’t want to be a stay-at-home mom anymore, which means I need to use these hours differently. So I spent the first half of my child-free time today cleaning up my resume, setting up a discovery call, and posting on LinkedIn for the first time in ten years. Bleck.

Here’s the deal, you guys. I’m going to do my best to publish this newsletter every week, but I’m taking the pressure off to post on Sunday mornings. This means you might get Bang Voyage on a Tuesday or a Saturday, in the morning or at night. I’m choosing to believe a little inconsistency won’t hinder the growth of this newsletter or be the end of my writing career. Tell me you believe it, too.

All that to say, even a gal who is parenting two toddlers, applying to jobs for the first time in five-ish years, and trying her best to keep up with a weekly newsletter, needs to get dressed. So this is what I wore last week.

I took the girls to meet up with a close girlfriend and her kids at The Natural History Museum of Los Angeles, which made me almost forget that my babysitter cancelled. Most of my local stay-at-home mom friends have transitioned back to work in some capacity, so I appreciate these weekday playdates more than ever right now. This was supposed to be a solo day for me to button up my resume, but I felt grateful for the changed plans by the end of the day.

My cousin was visiting from Colorado, so went out to Downtown Disney for Italian (read: pizza). After our kids ate their body weight in mozzarella, we walked to Salt and Straw for scoops of Wild-Foraged Berry Slab Pie and Peaches and Cream Galette ice cream. Just as we were heading back to the car at 8:30 pm, thousands of bubbles took flight around us while a live DJ performed for what definitely seemed like a rave for children. But still, I danced. For a brief moment on the dance floor, I didn’t even care that our kids were going to sleep two hours past their bedtime that night. Overall, an accidentally great day.

Tuesday, specifically the hours from 9-5, felt like the longest day of the week because I made the incorrect decision to stay home with the kids. My rationale was to have a “chill” day since we had evening plans again, but I quickly remembered how important it is to go outside for sanity. Reader, I lost my mind.

On the bright side, I did get a lot of laundry done and Soleil made me a play-doh pinky ring. Plus, everything got much better once we set off into the sunset on a two-hour boat ride in Newport Beach. Everyone is saying summer is over, but it’s so not over out here. Welcome to The O.C., b!tch. We’re still wearing flip flops and eating charcuterie boards on the Pacific Ocean.

This feels like such a peculiar season because I’m getting more help with my kids than ever, but I’m not getting paid for the extra work yet. I know it’s going to take some time, that this is part of the process, but I still felt guilty getting help with my kids today to continue the unpaid job of writing and Linkedin-ing. But off I went…my favorite Simon Miller kitten heels giving me a pep in my step!

When I got home in the afternoon, there was a package full of so many delicious (per my kids) pouches and bars from Once Upon a Farm* at our door. And then later that night, we did something a little delulu….

We officially moved our youngest into her sister’s room. We have a two-bedroom house, so I’d been wanting to make this transition for awhile, but I was nervous. Our oldest had been calling out for us in the middle of the night 5x a week for months, and our youngest is a fantastic sleeper. Would this ruin everything?

Well, folks. It turns out my three-year-old just needed her little sister in order to sleep through the night. There have been two wakeups from teething and one very bad dream, but overall the transition has been going so much smoother than we could have imagined.

I drove to my makeshift office (Rhye Goods), drinking Neuro Magnesi-om in a Kinto tumblr and letting my hair air dry on the way there. Thursday is typically reserved for writing Bang Voyage, but I needed to spend my time writing an essay for Spread the Jelly instead because, yes, dreams do come true.

But I’m not gonna lie, I was extremely stressed out. The clock was ticking, and I was feeling the pressure to get every word just right. I had two other projects with Sunday night deadlines, unrelated to this newsletter, on my plate as well.

Just as I was sitting down and taking a deep breath, drip coffee in hand, a friend approached my table. “You look stressed,” she said. LOL. I might not love surprises, but I’m so glad she was there. Seeing a close friend was exactly what I didn’t realize I needed in the moment. And she wouldn’t be the only friend I’d sit down with that day. The lovely Nicole Prince was in town (subscribe to her Substack, ya’ll!) and joined me in the afternoon with her beautiful family.

Thursday was all about work-life balance, baby.

I didn’t finish the essay that day, but I did wrap it up by deadline. Stay tuned. ;)

I’m really looking forward to my styling session with Fanny Adams coming up later this month because I changed my outfit multiple times again this morning. I love playing dress up but not when it’s the result of frustration and ends with a closet explosion. I only stayed in the above look long enough to film a 10-second reel, then I threw on a more comfortable fit and left the house before I could change my mind again. One of those days.

Friday’s feeling of the day was gratitude because my mom came over again so I could get more work accomplished outside of the house. Thank you, mom!

As the girls are getting a little older, it’s starting to feel a little more manageable to leave them both with another loving adult for longer stretches. Reflecting on the week at a glance and the fact that we transitioned them to the same room and took them out for a sunset cruise, I’m realizing everything is starting to feel a little more manageable with them. Thank gawd.

By the time I got home mid-afternoon, I felt great about the progress I’d made going into the weekend. Our plans? Pizza party tonight. Pilates and more work tomorrow. A family day at The Broad on Sunday.

Thank you so much for reading! Publishing this newsletter on a weekly basis is a true labor of l-o-v-e! If you enjoy Bang Voyage, I’d be so grateful for your support.

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ICYMI, the last few issues of Bang Voyage:

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