Greetings from Brooklyn. It’s me, Jen Glantz. Here are the 18 rules I made up for my own life. Are they maaad or are you head nodding while reading this? Let me know :)
I give them a good squeeze and then make sure I never release from them first.
(Okay, this sounds kind of creepy. But I take hugs seriously! I never want to be the first to let someone go.)
I must say something to them about it. I will not avoid their reality. I will not brush it away because it’s easy to do that. I will really think deeply about what to say and even if it’s hard, or awkward, or I fear it might not be the 100% right thing to say, I will say something.
When I was going through a really brutal time in my life and some people knew about it, 85% wouldn’t ever say ask me about how I was doing or say anything. I understand. I’m sure it was soo tough for them to know what to say or how to say it.
I now just say it. That person is trying so hard to play pretend but they don’t really want to. They want to be seen. They might even want the space to talk.
Will condition my hair before shampooing it. Even though my friend Molly and I will debate the craziness of this for the rest of our lives, I just feel it’s the right thing to do for my naturally greasy, product-averse hair.
I don’t let a lack of consistency scream at me that I’m a big giant loser who will never become anything. I’m a professional! And professionals know that even if they plan to work on their brilliant idea a little bit every single day, life just happens.
And so if I miss a day, or a week, or an entire year and a half, if I want it badly enough to pick up the mess again and keep going, I will.
Without the side chatter about my temporary retirement in Loserville.
I will go to extremes, like the Everest-climbing version of that extreme, to make sure I do it.
See: getting a weekly column a month after the journalism teacher at my high school said I wasn’t making newspaper staff because I was not a talented writer and would be better off learning that now vs. later.
See: going on 14 first dates and giving up on dating until saying yes to one final date (date 15), after a psychic told me I would never find love.
Now that you know this, please don’t use this as a motivation tactic to secretly get me to do what you want :)
I pick up the phone and call 3–4 people and scream the entire story to them with anger and emotion. And always, by the fourth person, I just feel better? Lighter? IDK.
Usually by then, 97% of the details aren’t worth recalling, and I find myself at the stage of the process where all I say is: Today has been a doozy and I need a hug that I won’t let go of for an awkwardly long time.
I have to say thank you, even if I want to say: This old dress? Gosh, it’s from the back of my closet and hardly covers my front-thigh cellulite.
Or gluten. or dairy (except for pizza cheese and occasional ice cream). And I don’t drink caffeine or alcohol. I sound like a BALL to go out on the town with, but I promise I’m soooo much fun with my Shirley Temple, veggie-and-dip appetizer, and salad (oh gosh, salad. I’m a real treat talking about how I’m scared the salad I’m ordering is going to give me diarrhea these days).
I force myself to raise my hand and ask the question, usually first, even if my teeth are clattering when the words come out.
I’m a curious cutie. I will not allow my nerves to keep my brain shut.
Who makes me feel sooo uncomfy that my gut is screaming: Jen, nooo, not them, nooo. Even if they haven’t necessarily given me a blunt reason to feel that way, I listen. I back up. I avoid.
This might sound like a shock, but I’m a mostly calm person, so when my nervous system starts to feel like it’s at a rave, I give in to the feeling of being in danger, don’t question it, and avoid being around them.
I don’t even bother convincing them to try. I see the hint. I take the hint. I do whatever it takes to never see that person again.
I have to tell them, even if the timing isn’t right. The other day, I was getting off the subway and this woman was getting on with a purple sequin belt. The door was closing, but I got in a mumbled scream: I looove your belt!
And so I’m not a perfectionist with any of my processes. My biggest annual-review slash against me was always that I don’t pay attention to details and work too fast.
When I write, I just freaking write. And then I keep writing until the whole thing is a mess, but it’s done. Only then do I go back and edit, delete, change, rewrite. But only then. Only once the demons are out of me.
Sooo many things can be figured out by a loooong walk with no headphones in.
It’s my sign to get out of bed, even if it’s 5 a.m. I start my mornings as early as possible because it means starting my day.
Feel bad for the other members of my household who are yanked out the door by 6:45 a.m. on Saturday/Sunday to begin a day of adventures. I cannot lazy morning unless you want me roaming your house like a Tasmanian devil.
I like my house to be bare bones. I am constantly throwing things out or donating. I’m sooo scared this will send Gemma to therapy at 18.
Therapist:And why do you feel this way?
Gemma: Because my mom was constantly throwing out my clothes and toys behind my back!!!
If something isn’t used for six months, it’s not meant to be in our space anymore.
My bedroom is white walls, nothing in it but a bed, and the closets are mostly empty. I got this way when Adam and I lived around the country for two years and had to purge almost everything before we went. I missed nothing.
I always want to be carrying light in case I need to run.
Then it’s not for me. 99% of the things I buy have to either allow me to apply a coupon at checkout or be on sale.
I like a bargain and a discount more than I like an item.
Not just once, but twice, I reach out to them. Somewhere in my inner psychology, there’s a reason they are on my mind, and so I simply say: Baby, I can’t stop thinking about you.
And pray my old best friend from fifth grade, who I haven’t spoken to in 15 years, responds.
Take care of yourself this week (ilysm).
I’m slowly making my way through The Parisian Heist. It’s really such a great thrill of a book. But up next on my reading list is a book I started flipping through at the bookstore that seemed soooo interesting.
I took the last 5-weeks off of working out to let my big precious broken toe heal and while that journey is still…a journey…I’m feeling OK to move a little again. So I’m back wearing these on my arms and ankles and doing simple workouts that go a looong way. Try one of these workouts. They make me scream by the end.
I’ve been having one of these packs a day lately. Nuts for protein and the other fun things inside are great mid-day pick-me-ups. I also keep a few in the glove compartment of our car for long rides when I forget to pack real food to eat.
I’ve been listening to this song on repeat. It has such a great rhythm and the lyrics are sweet, especially: It’s all waiting there for you. It spins joy inside of my ears when I hear that.
One of the ways I make myself feel better when my anxiety (which I think disguises itself in the form of acid reflux) starts creeping so high up my esophagus that it feels like I’m wearing a tight bow tie isssss...cleaning.
More specifically: throwing things out.
There is something deeply therapeutic about looking at an object and thinking, this is where it ends for us, my old friend.
So, to make my Monday (and the week ahead) feel a little more delicious, I’ve started doing Delete Day every Monday morning.
I delete three things:
Old emails clogging up my inbox.
The stack of papers that’s been living on my coffee table for reasons I’ll never understand.
The mascara from 2024 that’s so dried up it belongs in a museum.
Etc. Etc.
It’s funny how much lighter you feel when you let things go. Deleting gives you space to start again and wtf else is a Monday for but that?
I’m a writer, entrepreneur, professional bridesmaid (yes, that’s a real job), and Brooklyn mom who has been oversharing on the internet for more than a decade!
I write about the things we’re all trying to figure out: work, relationships, money, motherhood, getting older, starting over, and all the awkward stuff in between.
You’ll also find weird life experiments, things I’m loving, and whatever is currently taking up too much space in my brain.
I’m here to make your Monday a little lighter, more interesting, and less lonely.
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