Hello to all,
My burnout post has been extremely popular, enough for me to have like 15 new subscribers..? To everyone new here, HI. I’M SO HAPPY YOU’VE FOUND MY WRITING. We’re going to have an excellent time. I think. Maybe you’ll end up not relating, which is ok, or perhaps I should just let go of my crippling self-doubt and enjoy your presence.
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Ok, now, back to our main programming.
This was supposed to be about friendships. Until it wasn’t. I have a lot of friends. They are all important in my life; I can’t bring myself to write about the difficulty of making friends when you are older when the truth is quite the opposite.
I’ve been making even more friends as an adult than when I was younger.
So scratch that. We won’t talk about this.
Then I thought I could write about the Tiktokification of the female writer. But with C-18, I believe everyone must become an “influencer” to have some journalistic/writing reach. And it sucks. It sucks bad. I do not consider myself an influencer — loin de là — but I feel the pressure of constantly updating people on social media and following others and sometimes interacting to build some kind of following that will read me…
Which brings me to the real subject of this newsletter. My glasses. I bought a new pair of glasses. I had a specific idea of what I wanted: a sustainable, bold, local pair of glasses. And I found them at Lunetterie Ora, 10 minutes from home. A dark tortoise pair, ready to define my face and look for the best part of my thirties.
- I want to look like a real writer with a bold and interesting style. I want young women to look up to me and say, “She’s so fucking cool!”
- Don’t tell me you chose these just to give out a certain vibe! said my partner when I explained my reasoning
- No! I really like them too!
It was both a truth and a lie. I did pick up the glasses cause I liked them (and I look good with them,) but the fact was also that yes… I wanted to give out a certain vibe.
A strong armour
For as long as I remember, I’ve always wanted glasses. I don’t know what it is about them, but they give an aura, a certain something I want to exude. If you know me, you know my self-confidence has always been an issue. But glasses, they are a shell. They add to the physical boundaries between me and others, letting me project an unattainable image. Who wouldn’t want that? When I started wearing glasses at 21 years old, I finally felt like I had the opportunity to shine. As a child, I hated the “girl removes her glasses and becomes hot” narrative. I truly believed strong, hot, and powerful women were wearing glasses. I still do to this day.
Last June, I went to a café with a woman I admire. She wore a Jil Sanders t-shirt, a black pencil skirt and oversized, black, bold frames that made her look fierce. I felt even more hypnotized by her presence and stance. Not only was she a remarkable entrepreneur who was making a difference by helping women put their voices out there, but she oozed confidence. She knew who she was, what she was doing, and was at the top of her game. I was convinced her glasses conveyed that energy. I wanted to be the same.
I still want this.
But my main issue with wanting to have the same vibe is understanding that the vibe doesn’t come from glasses.
But, I like this new pair. It gives me strength and confidence. I look a bit more like myself, too, meaning a bit of a nerdy, always reading or daydreaming, very into fashion and art kind of girl. And I won’t shit on the superficial aspect of it. If something makes you feel better about yourself, if you decide you are entering a new era and choose to define it with a pair of glasses, a new piercing or a new tattoo, go for it. Change your look, change your perspective about yourself. Try something new.
Maybe it will give you the confidence to send a newsletter you’ve been editing repeatedly because you think the content won’t speak to anyone.
(I know I haven’t deleted this one, yet.)
My glasses give me a newfound energy, too. Finally, two years into my thirties, there are defining characteristics about me that are starting to stick. The flower tattoos.The nose ring. The curly, shoulder-length hair. The blunt, oversized glasses. The “Mile End Trash” look. The sneakers and flats. The flowy skirts and oversized band t-shirts.
I never thought my thirties would be such a self-defining decade. But I’m starting to enjoy the full-fledged adult I am. I think my teenage self would be proud — I hope she is.
About Chloé
I went to Cinéma Moderne last Friday with my friend Josiane. We watched Frances Ha, the fantastic coming-into-adulting movie directed by Noah Baumbach. I am a big fan of Greta Gerwig. Her films depict the psyche of a young woman perfectly. And I also like how she never makes romance the main plotline of her stories.
But she does put friendships at the forefront.
So, sitting in the dark last Friday, laughing about something Frances had said on screen, a wave of sadness and melancholia took over me. As Frances was missing Sophie, I was missing my best friend, Chloé.
See, Chloé is in London. I haven’t seen her since March/April. I miss her presence. Last summer, we were spending all our time together. I miss her laugh, her stories, her ideas. I miss her. Through Frances's longing for Sophie, I found my longing for Chloé.
I know Chloé will read this. She reads my newsletter religiously, but I wanted to declare my love for her publicly. Without Chloé, there’s no “uncool writer” Yara. Without Chloé, there’s no taking a chance on weird opportunities. Without Chloé, there’s no partner even. Without Chloé, there’s no love for White Claws. I met Chloé in January 2020, and even if 2020 was a shitty year, I found her. She is worth a thousand Suns.
My heart is broken into two pieces. One is in London, and the other is here in Montréal. Chloé, je t’aime. Tu me manques. It’s not even a sad story. We are still as close as we were when you were here. But even malgré cela, I miss you.
Maybe this was what I wanted to say about friendship. It’s as precious as any romantic relationship. Sometimes even more.
Last but not least
New glasses, new nails, new hair, new project going on, new everything. How’s the burnout doing?
I’m still pretty tired. Still extremely anxious. But I’m looking forward to September, for fall to settle down, for long walks without sweating, for warm coffee outside on a brisk, fresh day, for colourful leaves.
I’m also looking forward to getting these shoes.
I might be burnt out, but I still indulge in things I like: new clothes, food, and books. I’ve been reading again too. I made some decisions during those past two weeks on vacation and decided to stop overworking myself.
Writing should not feel like a chore.
As for my project, well. It entered its beta-reading phase. I’m still self-doubting, but I have no control anymore. People are reading and compiling their comments. It’s a very vulnerable state to let people read you but to let people criticize your writing and your ideas… it’s as if I threw myself into the lion’s den and cannot pray myself out of it.
This will take more than a miracle. It will take me to accept the fact that criticism can also be very gentle and well-meaning.
And I love well-meaning things.
As usual, thank you for reading. Your time means the world.
Your favourite uncool writer with new glasses,
Yara
Yay
Hello Yara! Happy to read another newsletter. For real, youth is overrated. Being in my thirties fucking rocks; I feel like myself like never before. Although I am due for a new pair of glasses 🤪 Have a nice week !