Happy May, friends! I’m hoping you might be willing to help me with something as we open up a new month: I have reserved a space on Substack and would love your thoughts on how I might best put it to use.
In case you’re not familiar with it, Substack is a “subscription network” for creators – mainly writers – to share their work. “While social networks are associated with advertising and attention,” the founders write, “subscription networks are about direct payments and trust. While social networks facilitate shallow connections, subscription networks foster deep relationships.”
Here’s a bit more:
Heady stuff, and right up my alley :) As a writer, Substack seems like a natural place for me to have a presence, especially as it becomes less appealing to spend time on social media and writing is my preferred mode of sharing, anyway. Many writers whose work and perspectives I appreciate, like Emily Oster, Bari Weiss, Claire Swinarski, Elizabeth Holmes, Anne Helen Peterson, and The Dispatch have already found a home here.
Colliding with these thoughts is the fact that my current newsletter platform is now charging a fee to send my “new post” newsletter. As I’ve written before, I don’t need to earn my living on Em for Marvelous, but I’d prefer to not pay for the privilege, either.
I’m not about to abandon this space, though (14 years and counting!), and Substack is not particularly well-suited to image-rich posts (as some of mine are). So: most posts will stay here, and a new newsletter will live on Substack. This will allow me to: 1) easily share new posts with you, 2) provide additional content to those who choose to support what I do here, and 3) allow us all to play with what a promising spot on the internet has to offer. I think it could be fun!
But I’d love to hear what sounds fun to you, and what might add value to your life. So, if you’d like, please consider taking a short survey on the possibilities. I look forward to hearing what you think! If you have any questions, feel free to drop them in the comments.
The only other thing of note I wanted to share as we start this month is that John and I are experimenting with a digital detox for the next few weeks! As you know, we are generally about moderation in most things, including social media and screen time, but a pastor we admire is leading his congregation through a thoughtful fast for the next four weeks and we thought we’d give it a try. Perhaps I’ll report back at the beginning of June if there’s interest :)
On my calendar this month: — June and I have our mother-daughter sleepaway camp weekend! I am nervous but excited. — We are also camping for one night with our church small group – we’ll be 13 adults and 11 children (!). Though we’ve camped many times with the Rays, adventuring with such a big group will be a whole new experience. — June’s school is celebrating Teacher Appreciation Week this week! We’re following the PTA’s theme days (write a note on Tuesday, wear your teacher’s favorite color on Friday, etc.) and for a bigger gift, we chose a gift card to Fleet Feet, a local store, since her teacher is an avid runner.
What I’m loving right now: — Both of the books I’ve read by Justin Whitmel Earley have been slam dunks, so I was excited to hear about his new book, Made for People. I preordered it, which is rare for me, and am looking forward to seeing it arrive on my doorstep in August. — I found George Packer’s Opening Argument in the April Atlantic to be thought-provoking and clarifying. “The project of the guides is utopian, but they’re a symptom of deep pessimism. They belong to a fractured culture in which symbolic gestures are preferable to concrete actions, argument is no longer desirable, each viewpoint has its own impenetrable dialect, and only the most fluent insiders possess the power to say what is real.” — “I Thank God” by Maverick City is a real bop. I recommend a listen first thing in the morning to start your day off right.
As a reminder, you can find allll the things I’ve loved over the last few years neatly organized right here!
What I read in April: — The Flatshare | My mom and sister both loved this book (a debut novel) and I was happy to pick it up, too! The concept is clever – two roommates who never see each other because one works a night shift, and slowly get to know each other via post-it notes and observing each other’s belongings in the apartment. The female narrator, Tiffy, never quite crystallized as a character for me, but it was a feel-good story and I’d recommend it. (The 56k+ positive reviews aren’t wrong.) — Remarkably Bright Creatures | People are rapturous about this book (also a debut novel!), so my expectations were high. I enjoyed it, but I think I’d give it 4 stars instead of 5. The characters are a little hard to love, and there was kind of an unexpected amount of swearing in it? I did enjoy how the story unfolded and overall would recommend this one, too. — Marriage Portrait | I’d give this one the highest rating of the bunch this month, though I will say it’s probably not for everyone. The writing is exquisite; description is very much emphasized over action. I loved the concept – the novel is inspired by a scrap of historical record about a young Italian duchess who dies just a year after her wedding – and was impressed by how cleverly the author fills out the scant details into a full novel. One of the best parts: the ending was satisfying and unexpected. In another interesting twist, the actual marriage portrait of the main character, whose creation is detailed in the book, is displayed at the NC Art Museum in Raleigh. I think I’m going to take a little field trip to see it on a day off this month :) — Hunt, Gather, Parent | I’m rereading this parenting book so I can finally write a post on it! It’s as good as I remembered from my 2022 read.
My reading list for 2023 is moving right along!I’ve read nine so far and am in the middle of two more.
Revisiting my April goals: Organize our master bath cabinets Paint our master bath cabinets (I decided to table this one until June, as it’s a hands-on project I can tackle once summer break hits and June and I are hanging out more often during the day.) Complete 2008-2009 in the EFM book Plan well for our Asheville trip (Yes, it was wonderful! Report coming soon.) Send invites for the book swap Finish the Best of EFM page Film Annie in April
May goals: — Edit Annie in April — Organize our master bath cabinets — Organize our loft — Send invites for the book swap
As a reminder, many of these are drawn from my 2023 goals!
As I suspected, April was a doozy (so much travel!), so this month I’m re-upping on several goals that I did not complete. Looking forward to seeing what I can check off on a second pass :)
“Friendship is the rare kind of relationship that remains forever available to us as we age,” Jennifer Senior noted in an Atlantic piece last year. “It’s a bulwark against stasis, a potential source of creativity and renewal in lives that otherwise narrow with time.” And yet, despite all of its virtues and joys, many of us find friendship something we puzzle over as grown-ups: how to make friends? How to keep friends? How to care for our friends, and find time to actually enjoy their company? After all, says Senior, once we graduate, “we are ritual-deficient, nearly devoid of rites that force us together.”
And so, as adults, we must develop our own friendship practices, habits, and rhythms. Because I’m personally always looking for inspiration, I thought it might be fun to share a few “case studies” of successful friendships in my own life. They’re anonymous, but only lightly so – if you’ve been here awhile, you’ll surely know who I’m talking about. All part of the fun :)
This post turned out to be extravagantly long, so I’ve split it into two parts – three today and three in a future edition!
Case Study No. 1: The former coworkers turned friends
How we met: We worked together at a small business. I worked there first, and advocated for L’s hiring – we had connected via our blogs while she was still in college. From her writing, I knew she would be perfect for the role, and we were kindred spirits from the start once we finally met in person. (Still are :))
K and I have a particularly good meet-cute: the first time we met, at a reader event I was hosting for work, she came up to me and blurted out, “I know where you live.” Not creepy at all, ha!
How we got close: L and I sat next to each other five days a week for several years, and together the three of us (along with other beloved teammates!) road tripped, squealed over major business victories, survived one particularly painful team-building activity, sweated buckets at photo shoots, celebrated engagements and new babies, frolicked across fields in – there’s no other word for it – ballgowns, and much, much more. Small business life is not for the faint of heart, and relationships often grow deep and strong as you navigate it together.
How we stay close: Though we met as coworkers, we no longer work together. This could have been the end – I have said goodbye to many coworkers throughout my career, and without the regular face time (physical or virtual) of the workweek (and the chance to share the tiny details of life over Slack or while gathering for a meeting), it’s impossible to maintain the same type of relationship.
And so transition becomes necessary. Sometimes this is to a more distant, but benevolent, relationship. Other times – as in this one – you find a way to forge something new AND close.
As COVID lockdowns loosened a bit in August 2020, the three of us tucked kids into bed and met up on L’s back porch with glasses of Prosecco and bowls of popcorn. And then we talked for 2-3 hours, so happy to be together in person. Before we parted ways, we put a date on the calendar for our next get-together, and we’ve been doing it ever since.
What we’ve overcome: Navigating our transitions from coworkers to friends was challenging for me. Because we were used to seeing each other during the workday, we had no established rhythms to be together outside of work, and so in some ways felt we were starting from scratch with figuring out what our friendship would look like.
In both cases, I also dealt with feelings of betrayal when they decided to leave the business (and I stayed behind). It’s painful to admit, but I harbored bitterness for months that poisoned our relationship, at least on my side. To move past it, after clearly feeling God ask me to make a move, I had to initiate a dedicated conversation where I shared what I had been feeling and apologized. It was one of the scariest conversations I’ve ever had, but I’m so glad I had it. We would not have the friendship we have today without it.
What I love about our friendship: We’ve been through a lot together, and these ladies GET me: multi-state road trips leave lots of time for conversation. We’ve met each other’s families. We’ve celebrated and mourned with each other through major life events.
I love that the three of us are both different and the same. Many of the things that matter most to us we hold in common, but we are wildly different in other ways, with different personalities and interests and areas of expertise. I also love that our ages are slightly staggered – between the three of us, we span about eight years – which brings an interesting flavor to our conversations and allows us to speak into each other’s lives in unique ways.
I love that meeting up so regularly allows the tiny dramas of life to spool out in a way that engenders closeness: there’s always something to catch up on when we’re together, and yet there are never big gaps we need to fill.
And finally, if you’ve met these two ladies, you know ANYONE would consider themselves lucky to be their friend. They are supremely talented, extravagantly generous, passionate about all the right things, and just plain fun to be around.
Case Study No. 2: The couple friends
How we met: N was a photographer I met through work practically in my first month on the job. I started to read her blog, and when I saw she and her husband liked to play Settlers of Catan (a somewhat niche interest!), sent a VERY bold and uncharacteristic email offering to get together to play, if they wanted.
How we got close: They did, and we did, and we’ve been playing board games ever since. Things took a turn a few years in when we went camping together – there’s nothing like conversations around a campfire, or seeing someone un-showered first thing in the morning, to bump a relationship up a level. Since we were friends before any of us had children, we had time for long, honest conversations about the things that matter to us, like generosity, marriage, family, faith, travel, and, yes, eventually the decision to have kids.
How we stay close: Camping. Always camping, every year. It’s a guaranteed check-in where we know we’ll be able to connect and go beyond surface conversation, even if we have to brave bugs and dirt to do so.
Other than that, in this season of life we make do with infrequent get-togethers, like dinners at one of our homes with all seven of our kids and the occasional double date night.
I also consider myself the number one fan of her podcast and will frequently text her my commentary and feedback :)
What we’ve overcome: We’ve overcome physical distance. We’ve never lived particularly close to each other, but the distance was easier to overcome in our kid-free days, when no one was paying for babysitters and driving 40 minutes for a game night was nothing.
We’ve also bridged difference. Though we share many important things in common, we’ve also made different choices on church, education for our kids, work, type of neighborhood, and more. It’s easy to judge or feel judged when your loved ones choose differently from you, and I’m proud that our friendship is stronger than that.
What I love about our friendship: One thing I treasure about our relationship is that I like to think we learn from each other. I know I have personally learned SO much from N and from watching N and W’s relationship over the years. And this is the beauty of difference – if you’re exactly the same, there’s no room to grow :)
Case Study No. 3: The group of friends
How we met: A mostly-online friend who had just moved to the area approached me about starting a monthly discussion group, and I enthusiastically agreed. We issued open invitations on our blogs, opened our homes to perfect strangers, and the rest, as they say, is history.
How we got close: Seven years later, four gals from that first night are still in the club. The other eight joined us over time – some, blog readers who responded to periodic open invitations, others who knew someone on the inside :)
The most obvious way that we got close is because 1) we met regularly – every single month, without fail, and 2) every time, we discussed things that mattered over several hours. I mean, if you want a formula for developing a deep relationship, I don’t think you can do much better than that. There were a few other key factors over the years, though:
About a year in, we decided to hold our discussion over dinner instead of over wine and snacks. There’s something about cooking for each other and sharing a meal that engenders familiarity.
During the pandemic, we found creative ways to meet – on Zoom, bundled in ridiculous layers of clothing around a fire pit, on blankets in the park with takeout boxes on our laps. In a time starved for companionship and rife with things to discuss, we had each other.
Finally, we started a group text thread. This might sound inconsequential, but it provided an immediacy to our friendship that hadn’t existed before, as we didn’t chat much outside of our monthly gatherings. Now, we’re a part of each other’s lives in a more mundane way that is beyond delightful.
How we stay close: Yes, it’s the fact that we meet monthly. But to go one level deeper, I’ve got to give credit to my co-founder, who sends the email that confirms our date each month, another a few days before that reminds us where and when we’re meeting and what we’re reading, and creates a SignUp Genius link for our meal. She’d tell you it’s nothing, but it’s not. Organizational skills are one type of glue that holds friend groups together, and that’s certainly the case in ours.
What we’ve overcome: This group has never felt rocky, which is both shocking – considering the controversial, personal, and deeply meaningful things we discuss – and a deep testament to these women. I also think it signals a truth our modern, very online, culture seems designed to conceal: that there are very few people you wouldn’t love if you spent time with them, around a table, in good faith.
What I love about our friendship: I mean, so many things – I’ve waxed poetic many times over the years :) But man – that text thread! Everyone needs one in their life! A smattering of topics from the last week: line-drying clothing, Demon Copperhead, OB/Gyn recs, Amazon + One Medical, someone’s cute new tennis bag, thank you note methodology, an undershirt for sweaters, everyone’s favorite types of butter, where to donate dress pants, and an absolute deluge of hype over one member’s marathon finish that qualified her for the Boston Marathon (!!!). It’s also an official rule that you must share a selfie after you get a haircut.
If you’re in need of a local recommendation, have something exciting to share, something you want to discuss, something you need an opinion on or a cheerleader for anything at all – this is your thread. Everyone needs one!
Up next: a church friend, a neighborhood friend, and either a preschool friend or a long-distance friend – you tell me which you’d prefer! :) I’d also love to hear something that moved you closer to one of your friends, if you’d like to share.
In search of photos to use in this post, I searched “flower” in my camera roll and these were three favorites that popped up: an iPhone snap from one of the last SW photo shoots, sunflowers at Dix Park, and a backyard centerpiece plucked from our garden. Also, affiliate links are used in this post!
On my birthday, I wrote about my spirit age, or subjective age, of 36 – the age I’ve consistently felt on the inside since my late teens. Dancing around the edge of those musings was something else I’ve been sitting with, though it didn’t make it into the essay proper: the idea that I don’t change. This is less of a settled fact I believe about myself and more an idea I’m holding up to the light, twisting and turning to see how it looks from different angles. Does it square when held up against other things I know to be true about myself?
The answer: yes and no. Yes, I think I am an unusually consistent person, and have been for a long time. I value stability and loyalty and wisdom. I married my high school sweetheart. I have worked for the same company my whole adult life (albeit with twists and turns along the way). I made a major geographical move after college but have stayed put ever since. My faith has remained true. This blog you’re reading has been around for 14 years.
But also: I used to fear and loathe speaking in front of a crowd, and now I volunteer for it. We worship in a new community. I am hugely more comfortable with small talk, and now rather likely to extend forward invitations in friendship. I compost and use washable cotton rounds and somehow learned to use my Instant Pot. I camp and hike. I read things I disagree with daily, and sometimes they change my mind.
Let’s consider this a little home tour preview, shall we? :)
Change and novelty do not always come naturally to me, but I see their value. And so, in my 36th year, I am – very loosely, very casually – embarking on a “new 36” experiment. (“New 52” has much more of a ring to it, but 52 felt a bit overwhelming :)) The plan is to seek out the new that feels like it would add something to my life. I’m thinking of it more as a “to done” list than a “to do” list, with more room for serendipity than some of my other projects.
That being said, I do have a few ideas – some of which I’ve already checked off or that are in process…
Take tennis lessons Place an order on ThredUp Pray on my knees first thing in the morning Volunteer with Habitat for Humanity Donate blood (I come from a family of prodigious blood donors and have grand aspirations but have always been near the weight limit and somewhat prone to fainting…) Find a perfume I love Replace my beloved hat with a new look Camp for the weekend with my best big girl Chaperone a field trip Take a day trip via train to Greensboro Bike the whole American Tobacco Trail
What would be on your list? What new thing would you like to do or try? This experiment was inspired in part by my friend Shay, who shared about her “new 52” project in her 38th year. Some things she’s tried so far: throwing pottery, a new discipleship friendship, visiting a new country (!), a hot yoga class, a personal training session, a new marriage devotional, and attending a hockey game.
I also floated my idea to the Articles Club gals and they had ideas of their own. New things my pals want to try: install a Little Free Library, learn to use power tools, donate a kidney (!), play pickle ball with friends, and plant herbs.
So: what would be on your list? Or what new thing, big or small, have you tried in the last year? I’d love to hear!
Those of you who have been around for awhile may recall why this is a significant birthday for me: for many years, I’ve considered 36 my spirit age, or the age that I consistently feel on the inside, regardless of the number of years I’ve clocked around the sun.
Some people feel perpetually 25. I have a friend who swears she’s meant to be 72. But for me, whether I was logging a late-night shift at the library at 21, shopping for a wedding dress at 25, or struggling to learn the ropes of breastfeeding at 28, somehow I felt I was always on my way to this moment: that my life experiences, my gifts, my heart would most perfectly be used in this way – as a wife, a mom to three little ones, a daughter, a sister. A friend who tries to make sunshine for the ones she loves. A writer. A meal train queen. A school-trip chaperone. Settled in her career. Snug in a church she loves. 36 is more beautiful than I could ever have hoped for, and I am truly more grateful than I ever would have thought possible. Life feels more precious every year.
In some ways, it also feels more complex. For example, I come up short when I compare the neatness of my journey thus far to those of others’ whom I love. I am no more special than anyone else, did no more right or less wrong than anyone else. It is blessing, but undeserved. It is luck, undeserved. I write this with a lump in my throat for those of you reading who have reached a certain age and find yourself not where you thought you’d be. There are a million cruel (and a few delightful) ways for plans to be derailed in this life. I’m sure many are still lying in wait for me.
And I’m looking ahead now – for most of my life, I’ve looked ahead. But now, when I look up, there’s no threshold on the horizon. I seem to have arrived.
All that preparation? It was for this. The sacrifice, particularly financial? It was for this. Those wedding magazines I read before I was engaged, the parenting books I read before I had kids? They led me here. I have often felt like an old soul, often find myself the youngest person in a room. How will things shift as I move away from this apex (of sorts)? Where to next?
Onward —
of course. Don’t worry: I am too optimistic to sit in this space for long. I was clear-eyed about this season of life, and I think I can be clear-eyed about the seasons (so many!) to come. Just because I looked to 36 didn’t mean I thought it would be perfect or without difficulty, and it’s not and it isn’t. Cars need to get towed, children want snacks, I have a bad attitude, people I love get sick, the kitchen counter needs to be wiped again. Lord willing, I have a long and beautiful life ahead of me, and perfection and ease are not the goal.
But awareness is. Gratitude. Presence. Feeling at peace while the fleeting, heartbreaking beauty of this season grates against its grit.
Thank you, Lord, for 36 years. May they have reflected your love and light.
I mined my camera roll for these collages and included pretty much every photo of me from the last year – or at least a representative snap from each event. It’s sweet to see them all together.
