Control

Giving it up to gain more than ever

My past New Year’s resolutions have always centered around control: I controlled what I ate, what I drank, how many miles I ran. When I inevitably burned out and couldn’t stick with whatever strict regimen I’d implemented, I viewed myself as a failure who lost control.

This year, I decided to try manifestation instead, inspired by Laura Lynne Jackson’s book Signs: The Secret Language of the Universe. In it, she explains how to open yourself up to a conversation with the universe to change things in your life for the better.

It starts with writing out your goals and expressing gratitude, as if the things you want to manifest have already happened. Be specific. Include dates, time frames, numbers, and amounts of money. Leave the door open to get even more than you want by including “or sooner” for time frames and “or more” for amounts. For example, one of my manifestations is:

“Thank you for bringing me a new, challenging, exciting job that pays a salary of $X or more by June 1, 2026, or sooner.”

Next, share your manifestations with people you trust. I wrote my list on the morning of December 31 and texted it to the group chat I have with my four closest friends. “Sharing the experience with others amplifies the power of manifesting because our collective thoughts are powerful,” Jackson writes. Sure, why not?

The final step is the most difficult: Let your manifestations go. Release them into the universe. Don’t try to micromanage them into existence.

As an expert micromanager, this concept was new to me.

I’ve always believed I needed to white-knuckle my way into achieving what I want. The evidence is all over this Substack. I spent the past year charging head-first into my goal of publishing a memoir with an urgent, grasping, desperate energy. So cringe, as the kids say. And what did that get me? Not very much closer to my goal, and wildly discouraged that my best efforts were met with resounding rejection.

That’s not to say it was a complete waste of time. I learned a lot. Like if you want to capture a loose dog, chasing it will only scare it away. It’s better to fill your palm with something tasty, adopt a calm, nonchalant energy, and wait for the pup to come to you.

That’s what manifestation means to me. It doesn’t absolve me of the responsibility to make an effort to achieve my goals. I still have to fill my palm. But once I do, I need to settle myself and wait. I’ll attract what’s meant for me.

The key is to have confidence, and that’s a word that popped up over and over in my list of manifestations. Just one example:

“Thank you for bringing me the inspiration, confidence, and dedication to write one high-quality Substack newsletter every week and publish it every Friday morning.”

When I dread writing a newsletter, it’s not because I don’t have something to say. It’s because I lack the confidence people will care about or want to read what I have to say.

My confidence got pummeled into oblivion this past year by rejection after rejection. Every literary agent who didn’t want to sign me, every editor who didn’t want to commission my freelance piece, and every recruiter who shuffled my résumé into the “no” pile made me feel the same way: I’m not good enough.

For so long, I let the outcome of my efforts directly impact my self-worth. If I tried my best and still failed, it was entirely my fault.

Manifesting helped me understand my power is in filling my palm. I can serve up my best and stand by it. If someone doesn’t want to invest in my writing or hire me, that’s entirely their business and none of my mine. It’s simply not the right person or opportunity for me—not a reflection of my worth.

Going through two difficult life events back to back has taught me that relinquishing control is key to survival. For someone who’s tried to control so much for so long, it’s a relief. Wrapping my goals in positive energy, sending them out into the universe, filling my palm, then surrendering control and detaching my self-worth from the outcome—that’s freedom.

I also sought to consider myself objectively. One day, I looked in the mirror and thought: “Hey, I’m pretty great!” It had truly just occurred to me. I started telling myself all the things I’ve heard from my friends and family, but haven’t been able to absorb because I’ve been telling myself a different story for so long: I’m a great mother. I’m a great daughter. I’m a great friend. I’m a great writer. I’m a great employee. I’m pretty funny. I’m a catch in all the ways.

Man, it’s a long process to repair the damage we do to ourselves.

Having belief in myself doesn’t mean I’m delusional and think everything is going to work out exactly how I want. I’m not suddenly on some magical, unobstructed trajectory toward achieving all my hopes and dreams. But I do believe it’s all going to work out eventually. Probably not in the way I hope or plan, but definitely in the way that teaches me a few things I need to learn along the way.

Isn’t that a beautiful thing in itself? To hope for the best, but also just be grateful for the lessons?

The irony of giving up control is that I now feel more in control than ever. That’s because I’m 100% in control of the only thing I really can be: myself.

And one of my manifestations has already come to fruition in mind-blowing fashion (remember to leave the door open to get more!):

“Thank you for bringing me 20 or more paying Substack subscribers who care about and believe in me enough to support my writing financially.”

I chose the number 20 because Substack’s Going Paid Guide says, “We tend to see 5-10% of free subscribers convert to paying subscriptions, with 10% being a rate to aim for.” I had 250 subscribers at the time, so obviously I’m bad at math because I should have manifested 25 or more. But between my friends and family and a few other loyal Substack readers, I figured I could reasonably cobble together 20 paid subscribers over time.

I was up until 2 am writing my newsletter introducing paid subscriptions at the last minute. I didn’t want to give myself too much time to think about it and second-guess myself. Then I scheduled it to publish just five hours later. I filled my palm and went to sleep.

I woke up to an inbox filled with paid subscription notifications, and they just kept coming all day. Rollercoaster Road had more than 20 paid subscribers by early afternoon, and that door I left open for more? It eventually blew entirely down.

Cue me screaming, crying, throwing up.

Thank you endlessly for showing me you value what I’m sharing here. Your support is far beyond what I imagined was possible, and I’m committed to making your investment in my writing worth it.

I’m so cognizant that sharing this may come off as very smug and self-congratulatory, but please believe me when I tell you I’m clawing my way back up from having the world’s lowest expectations for anything I do. I’m still working every day on convincing myself, “Hey, I’m pretty great!”

It helped that nestled in between the paid subscription email notifications that day was my very first email from a recruiter requesting a phone chat. It felt like blessings upon blessings raining down on me all at once.

Could it be that everything is finally starting to turn around? Are my dreams inching closer because I finally loosened my grip on them and became secure in knowing what’s meant for me won’t miss me?

I guess we’ll find out.

This is the face of a person who nailed the recruiter phone chat, then had a lovely interview with the hiring manager and is not hung up on the outcome. If I get a job offer, perhaps it was meant for me. If not, it was meant for someone else, and I’ll look ahead to other opportunities with the peace of knowing I’m still on my own path.

Either way—say it with me, to yourself, like you mean it:

HEY! I’M PRETTY GREAT!!!