Hooray and Watch Out!

Once you dive in, it can be easy to forget why you took the plunge.

Hello! This is a piece from the archives as I am — right now, as you read this, here…

Read it. I made updates! It’s good. 😎

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 when Felix and I were in St. John in December 2023, 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 Substack community is warm) or the surf was too high (the learning curve is low) but because everyone else was already in, splashing about, catching the waves, hanging 10—s of thousands of subscribers.

Waves of doubt crashed into me, pulling me down and holding me back.

It was like this since I left my marketing career in 2018. I’d tip-toe forward, then hold my breath. I thought I was ready to take the plunge, but then I’d retreat to high ground. 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.

What I didn’t realize until I read this piece sub-titled Quit Your Job, Decide Already! from

5 Big Ideas by Jen Hitze

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.

Now, I find myself in the deep (ish) end. Thanks to a single NOTES post last August, my subscriber count surged to over 1,000.

Hooray! Wait. Look out!

If I jump (in) for joy, will I get knocked down by the pressure?

I know myself well enough to know I am as motivated by numbers as my sweet Lab was motivated by treats. When I track word count on my memoir project, the writing suffers. When I follow subscriber growth, reach, and engagement metrics, I forget why I’m here.

I cannot measure the value I get from writing. I cannot measure the value I get when my words connect with just one other person.

I am here to share my story of reinvention. To hone my writing craft. To practice the discipline of deadlines. To find my voice—

No. To trust my voice. Because that is what my midlife reinvention is all about.

P.S. Here’s a thing you should try…

Download the Substack App and follow me on NOTES.

It’s like social media when it wasn’t run by oligarchs, algorithms, and assholes. Seriously, it’s a supportive community for writers AND readers. Find and follow the topics you’re interested in and the writers you love.

I’ll be back from vacation in April with new content, and — I think I’m bringing back reinvention writing prompts. Maaaaybe? What do you think about that? Let me know in the comments.

Work hard. Be brave. Believe.

Catherine