I grew up swimming in the chilly Atlantic Ocean at Maine’s Mid-Coast beaches—Popham, Reid State Park. Not swimming, more like playing in the waves, jumping over the breaks, and body surfing. It took some time and determination to get in the water where the ocean temperature hovered in the high-50s or low-60s at the peak of summer.
I’d watch the other kids splashing around and laughing while I eased my way into the surf, sucked in my tummy, and stood on tip-toes when a wave broke too close. It wasn’t until my skinny legs turned bright red and numb from the cold that I found the courage to dive in.
I thought about those cold summer swims last week when Felix and I were in St. John, basking in the sun on some of the world’s most beautiful beaches. The water was warm, but the surf was high, and rip tide warnings were up. While Felix dove and rolled in the breakers wearing a grown-up-sized little-kid grin, I ventured no further than my ankles.
I tried to get in the water at Cinnamon Beach but was afraid to go beyond the break zone. “I can’t touch!” I yelled at Felix. “I’m not that good a swimmer.” And while I froze in the warm water, wave after wave pushed me to the bottom, filled my suit with sand, and crushed my spirit.
“The water is fine,” Felix said. “You have to get out of the break zone.”
My hesitation felt like my experience writing online. First, a blog I told no one about, then one I shared with a few friends and relatives, then Substack. My goosebumps were not because the water was cold (the community here is fantastic) or the surf was too high (the platform is a breeze to learn), but because everyone else was already in, splashing about, surfing the gnar. Waves of doubt crashed into me, pulling me down and holding me back.
It had been like this with my writing in general since I finished my MFA in January ‘22. I tip-toed forward, then held my breath. I thought I was ready to plunge in, and then I’d run back to the beach. Leaving my career to reinvent myself was like jumping from burning hot sand into refreshing but turbulent water. Doubts and hesitation eddied around my ambitions to become a writer, freezing me from taking the next steps.
What I didn’t realize until I read this piece sub-titled Quit Your Job, Decide Already! from
was that I had been stuck in the break zone.“The uncertainty surrounding one’s purpose while still in the system complicates the decision to take a leap of faith…” – Jen Hitze
The “system” delivered my self-worth in paychecks, bonuses, and atta-girls for three decades. I’d had to take the plunge by leaving to find out who I was and feel confident about what I wanted to do. Still, it took some time to get used to new waters.
I quietly wrote, and every two weeks or so, I hit “post” and cringed. Then, slowly, new subscriber notices arrived. People I didn’t know! I gratefully counted them one by one. After a year, more than 200 people had signed on to read my newsletter. At last, I was numb to my knees.
Time to take the plunge
Last fall, I re-named and re-invigorated my Substack. I turned on a paid option and smiled a grown-up-sized grown-up grin when friends old and new stepped up to support my work. In the last three months, 100 new subscribers have joined the Midlife Anti-Hero community.
Midlife Anti-Hero has been viewed more than 18,000 times by people in 40 states.
And 19 countries!
Hooray!
Back to the real waves. On the next to last day of our vacation, Felix coaxed me back to the beach and beyond the churning shore. The rollers rose above my head, but—away from the break zone—I smoothly dunked under or floated over every wave. Closer to shore, little kids tumbled in the surf.
Fresh waves in 2024
I’ve simplified and updated the benefits for all subscribers. Most of the content was already free, but I’ve removed the paywall on previous archived posts, and I will never paywall your comments. I love your comments!
Paid subscribers will receive discounts on mentoring services and free monthly writing groups and discussion threads. You’re part of an intimate writing community that gets exclusive prompts designed to support and inspire your midlife reinvention. More news on these features coming soon!
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Thank you for reading all this way to the end. I’m so excited about what the tide will bring in 2024!
Work hard. Be brave. Believe.
Catherine
As someone who just got home from frolicking in the (cold) waves, I can totally relate. Funnily enough, I am also the person who gingerly walks in and my husband dives in (mirrors life). But when I’m out there, I just bask in the sun and waves for hours like a little kid. I have been enjoying the space in Substack in the same way. Now that I’m in, I love it!
I would love to apply this to life, as I start my new journey away from the corporate 9-5. I’m probably gingerly walking in, not exactly sure what’s going to happen. Being hammered by my own internal waves of doubt...I just need to get past breaking zone! Here’s to 2024! ✨
Loved this and the 5 big ideas newsletter. It’s a relief to know I’m not alone in this journey of “finding myself.”