Bad Bitch Energy

Believing in myself first

It’s tempting to think a good vacation will fix everything. Even this morning, as I pack another suitcase bound for somewhere sunny, I trick myself into believing this. But as I experienced this week, all your problems still exist when you get home—and they won’t greet you gently.

On top of grieving the latest development in my mom’s decline from early onset Alzheimer’s, I felt so behind on everything: revising my book proposal and sample chapters, making any headway on publishing a freelance article or two, establishing any sort of writing career in general. And I knew how irrational that was, which only made me feel worse—like my brain was broken. We had another couple days of violent wind and rain in the Seattle area, which caused a power outage and school closure and further threw me off. I couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t regulate myself. It scared the heck out of me.

“Our bodies aren’t designed to travel from a sunny, dry climate to cold and wet in just a few hours,” my therapist told me on Tuesday, by way of explaining my off-kilter feeling. Sure. But I knew I should be so grateful for the vacation and not have any complaints. I’m the worst policewoman of my own thoughts and feelings.

It was the first therapy session I’ve had where I felt worse at the end than I did at the beginning. Usually I can get my shit out, cry, and feel cleansed. This time, my therapist offered me another session at the same time next Tuesday instead of waiting our usual two weeks. She could see I needed it.

I did start feeling better later that day. Speaking my thoughts aloud always helps me zoom out and look at them from a different angle. I was able to give myself compassion for feeling down several days in a row. Because I’m able to compartmentalize my grief most of the time, I think I should be able to do it all the time, but that’s not sustainable. Even in the sixth year after my mom’s diagnosis, I still experience the occasional rush of disbelief and despair I felt when the neurologist first delivered the news. Just as our bodies aren’t prepared to travel so abruptly between climates, I don’t think they’re equipped to watch someone we love die slowly over a decade, either. We’re all just doing the best we can.

Routine always helps me regulate myself, so Tuesday night, I wrote a list of exactly what I’d do on Wednesday and when: 6 a.m. wakeup, 7 a.m. run, etc. My best days always start with an early wakeup and exercise. If I can get that out of the way before my “workday” begins, at least I’ve accomplished something and gotten some endorphins flowing. I had great runs on Wednesday and Thursday mornings, ate mostly healthy to keep my blood sugar steady, tried to stick to my to-do list as closely as possible, and had great days. I’m turning this ship around!

Sunshine is back and I feel it in my soul.

And with regard to my writing, I established a mantra: Bad Bitch Energy. For the older folks, a “bad bitch” is a confident, independent woman. It’s not a term I use regularly, but for the purpose of pumping myself up, it’ll work. Here are some examples:

Rugby player and Olympian Ilona Maher denying imposter syndrome: Bad Bitch Energy.

Peloton instructor Tunde Oyeneyin saying anything, really, but particularly, “Yes I can, yes I must, WATCH ME,” in this video: Bad Bitch Energy.

Texas Congresswoman Jasmine Crockett sharing her unfiltered thoughts on someone I refuse to acknowledge by name: Bad Bitch Energy.

I sent three more pitches this week to various publications, and I didn't sweat as I hit send. Instead of worrying about doing it wrong or wondering what kind of negative things editors would think as they read my emails, I thought, “These are great ideas. Who wouldn’t want to publish these?” Bad Bitch Energy!

This is great practice for querying literary agents: to understand these people read hundreds and thousands of pitches and don’t have time to think much in particular about the writers who send them. They just have to make a quick, subjective decisions about what might work at any given time. If I don’t hear back, or hear “no,” it’s not a judgment against me, and I can tweak the pitch for someone else. Something will hit eventually. Bad Bitch Energy!

I now have a spreadsheet that details what I pitched to who and when; when to follow up; and who to pitch it to next if I get a “no” or if I don’t hear back after following up. My seasoned freelancer friend Emilia Benton texted me immediately after I published last week’s newsletter: Always follow up! Don’t submit on spec anywhere! I am forever grateful for her guidance. Emilia is full of Bad Bitch Energy.

I also think back to when my husband Aaron, a couple of years and jobs ago, negotiated his salary for a new role. When he received an offer, he countered with what even he thought was a ridiculous number. Guess what? They gave it to him.

Women tend to doubt themselves and accept less. Men tend to be overly confident and ask for more. Let’s get some of that Bad Bitch Energy and level the playing field.