Dear reader,
How are you?
I hope you are well.
Tonight, you’ll read a story from Justine. I had planned to publish it last Wednesday, but with the attacks on Capitol Hill, I postponed.
What I had ready was this:
Welcome to a fresh 300+ days of possibilities. I subtracted the days that have already passed and am giving us ample wiggle room to slack off or disappear for a while unnoticed.
My New Year’s Resolutions are high level — to do things that make me hate myself a little less and to be a better partner to my significant other. The way I figure it, with those as my due north, I’ll knock out a whole bunch of goals along the way.
Rereading this, it feels as though years have passed since last week. What was important then seems trivial now in light of so many crises.
But I have to remind myself — and this is what I try to do every night on my Twitter feed — that taking care of myself will enable me to take care of others.
Justine’s story is about self-care. Self-care in the face of fear.
Justine is a freelance makeup artist in LA.
When the coronavirus took hold here in the states, many networks moved their “talent” (on-air reporters, anchors like yours truly) to in-home studios. We had to decorate our own faces and watch YouTube videos to learn how to apply heat to our hair correctly.
But before my former network made the decision to go remote, Justine made her own choice to stay home starting the weekend of March 14.
“I smoked my entire 20s, don’t have really good health insurance,” she told me. “I don’t want to get it. I touch people.”
Her fear crippled her at first, but then she realized it granted her a certain freedom she needed.
Justine and I worked together once, while I was in LA covering a Tesla event in 2019. And because the universe is strange and kind, we also share a mutual loving friend. Our interview took place in May last year.
Thank you, Justine, for sharing your story. And thank you, reader, for being here.
Take care of yourself, and others if you can,
Hope
Post #4: Justine, from Los Angeles
Being scared wasn’t a big challenge of mine until now.
I started working in hair and makeup in 2008.
I moved to Los Angeles from Omaha on my own six years ago.
Being a freelancer, I’m a lot more equipped to deal with job uncertainty.
But that first month — I was really scared of getting it.
I would think, “I’m going to get it if I go outside,” so I stayed inside and on my phone all day.
What I’ve realized now is I think I wasted a month of my life, because you can’t be scared. If we were scared all the time we wouldn’t get in our cars, or go out.
Being scared is a part of living.
But, at the same time, I also realized I was scared to the point that I didn’t want to be a makeup artist anymore.
And you know what? I’ve felt that way for a while. And now that I’ve said it — it’s like a relief valve has opened.
I’ve always been a “we need to chill and just enjoy life” kind of person. But I haven’t been able to do that without feeling guilty. And I’ve seen it in my friends too.
We’re exhausted.
We’ve needed this break.
I don’t know what I want to do immediately and that’s OK. Because it’s OK to not keep going.
We need to chill the fuck out sometimes and this is the perfect time, it seems… everybody in the same boat, friends working from home, making the same money.
There’s no added pressure like I’m a piece of shit. No.
It’s not me. These are just the circumstances.
We made it normal that we do these things — working all the time, posting and boasting on Instagram. It’s all really stupid.
What I want to see out of this more than anything is to not go back to that world. I really, really, really hope that we see that.
I’m choosing to take this time to focus on all the little things we don’t necessarily have time to do.
I’m living in the moment and doing things I enjoy — potting plants, doing yoga, being grateful for what I have. I can literally do whatever I want, whenever I want; it’s like being on a vacation.
I’m learning a lot about myself. There are a lot of things I’m good at doing. And this is the first time in my life that I’ve been open to a career change. I couldn’t have pictured a circumstance where I would have changed.
It may have never happened.
I’m having faith everything will work out.
I started painting.
— Justine, from Los Angeles, as told to Hope on May 20, 2020