It's true, no one owes us anything. That took me a long time to learn. And here, in Substackland, that question lingers in the air around us as writers here. The paid subscription...And just as you describe your exit from the fashion magazine to the world upstairs at the more "legit" mag, and more money for you, we wonder about our value...is our work less valuable if people don't pay for it? No. I don't think so. But I do think it's important not to devalue ourselves. I write for the joy of it, for self-discovery, and to connect with like-minded people. Receiving payment for my work is a wonderful bonus. My perception of my worth has changed and as a result, I'm not giving it all away for free anymore. That means asking for what I want. There's a difference for me between having no expectations and providing an opportunity for people to step up and sign on. The important thing is to not read anything into it when I get a "no." It's just an answer. Last night I got to the point in your memoir when you leave Maclean's. I like your book, worth every penny! Happy xmas celebration today, Rona. xo
Much wisdom here, Nan. (Unsurprisingly.) It is okay for readers to say no to a paid subscription, and also okay for them to stop paying, as happened to me recently with someone who truly loved my work. It did sting a bit.
I have come to expect to be thanked when I help someone in some significant way just as I expect myself to express thanks to others. I think those expressions make social interaction better. That said, i can't recall holding any grudge for a lack of thanks because if I help someone I do it because I want to.
In the golf club scenario, it's very questionable whether that rises to the level of "significant" and in any case Miss Galleon was way out of order in confronting you as she did.
And that's the valuable takeaway from your essay: life is much more pleasant if you consider being thanked or noticed a social bonus rather than a social salary.
"...life is much more pleasant if you consider being thanked or noticed a social bonus rather than a social salary." This is key! Thanks for saying it, David.
Recently a couple things made me feel this way. I made baby gifts for a neighbor and a friend it took me a considerable amount of time neither even mentioned afterwards that they liked them or said thank you. My birthday was last week and all three of my sons didn’t mention it. I got gifts from a daughter in law and an ex daughter-in-law. And all three sons were very nice about checking in on my second husband who had surgery later that week. This is the first year my bday has gone by without mention or gifts from them. Do I talk to them? My mom is a huge narcissist and never lets anything go by without making you feel bad in some way. I DONT want to make my sons feel this way.
It doesn't hurt to mention it. There really is a difference between describing your life to people who care about you and guilting them for not being on top of everything -- even important everythings like your birthday! They want you to have a happy birthday!
Feeling like I don’t matter is my tender spot - the place that even the tiniest of pokes can create a big bruise. While nursing the bruise, it helps when I remind myself that the poker likely didn’t intend the poke. They were probably caught up in their own stuff. Protecting their own tender spots and nursing their own bruises. Not only do they not owe me anything, they likely don’t even know that I might be standing with my hand out and heart hurt. Sigh….
Your words resonate with me. At so many “social” events, I leave feeling that no one cared one whit about me. Not one question about what I like, how I spend my time, who I am. So be it. I let people talk endlessly about themselves and try to work on my listening skills.
Exactly, Cindy. Even in a conversation with one person, I'll often conclude that I know everything about them yet they know nothing about me. I could butt in and tell them, of course. But it's not important to me that they know what's going on with me, it's important that they WANT to know.
I feel this way after my husband's daughter’s visit. We both noticed their lack of interest in my life and goings on, but I have learned to not expect anything from them. In fact, it’s not only me, but also him they choose to ignore.
Yes, and I eventually stopped inviting them as often. Oh, there have been many Why discussions over the years. What's saddest is that they don't hide their self-involvement or self-importance.
Brilliantly written and oh how true! On the flip side, when people tell me how much they enjoyed my book (published in September) I want to cartwheel around the room with joy. And when they ask, ‘When is the next one out?’ I am almost moved to tears. These moments make up for the (rude) people who ignore us.
A timely essay, so many are feeling alone on the holidays. I am sort of a black sheep, outcast hermit, and ya know what? It’s ok. I read my books and write my words out here in the woods, weeks can go by when I hear no living human voice but that of my husband and Darth Landlord. Husband goes off to work six days a week, I keep track of where Darth Landlord’s swearing is coming from on the property, just to be sure the old man hasn’t fallen or done some other foolishness to himself. I listen to what we call the “chuck,” the slow crackling of water into bits of crispy ice along the pond’s edge. I listen to Brahms while I work. I still have small moments of regret, I was always wishing I could do more and more for others until I was a dried up husk, and was abandoned by most. Now, after a decade in the woods, I am full, of quiet and of peace. Sometimes even joy. I wish you all such.
Great essay, Rona. I've had a few disappointments lately as they relate to not receiving expected thank yous for wedding gifts sent. I'm still waiting for a thank you for a wedding gift sent to a couple that married in another state that I was not able to attend over one year ago, and another out-of-state wedding I couldn't attend in September. I'm beginning to think thank yous from the younger generation is passe. I've been mulling the idea for the past several weeks on writing an essay on the dying art of thank yous. But, thank you for the great essay.
This resonates in many ways, Rona. I have siblings who haven't read my book, including a brother who's a published author. So much for literary citizenship, right? No one in my family reads anything I write, including my newsletter that drops in their inbox monthly. The part inside me that hurts is slowly disappearing. Someday, I truly won't care (without resentment or regret). Enjoy your orchid!
Karen, there are so many in your situation and mine. Knowing this helps me get over myself. And the orchid, now long gone, is such a sweet, consoling memory.
Rona, beautiful as always. It is important that we remind ourselves of this simple fact of life, otherwise we develop a sense of entitlement that has become all too common in our culture. Lola and I think of you and Casey daily when we go for our walks. Happy holidays to you and yours.
So true and I know the feeling. But I also have to acknowledge that I am sometimes the one who slips up, forgets, procrastinates. One of my dearest adult friends told me a truth over 30 years ago. We met in a divorce recovery group and on an early outing, I had commented that while married and working mostly with men, I had never had many adult women friends and was enjoying her friendship. Many months later, getting together after not seeing each other for weeks, she gently commented that she had missed me and has to remind herself that 'Leslie doesn't have much experience with being a good friend as an adult.' She was right and I have tried to be better, but I still postpone or neglect the prompt note for the perfect one and leave many wondering if I still care. The easiest friends for me are the long relationships from college or younger where we saw each other daily. When we now we live far apart, I treasure that when we do see each other or talk on the phone, it is like yesterday. So now with your essay at heart and my friend's words remembered, I'm going to go write those Christmas notes Right Now.
Yes, I too am conscious of all those moments when I fall short with people, including friends. Your wise friend’s words to you made an impact. I will DM you.
I love this; what a friendship can be: "I never thought to send her flowers or anything else, but my friend was never one to keep score. She knew we didn’t owe each other anything. Between us it was all free, our cups running over." Thank you, Rona, for your words here today.
Thank you for your powerful words. I resonate deeply with the idea that self-validation is where true fulfillment lies. For so long, I sought external approval, only to realize that what I truly needed was to accept and validate myself. As Maya Angelou beautifully put it:
"You only are free when you realize you belong no place - you belong every place - no place at all. The price is high. The reward is great."
This speaks to the freedom that comes from within, from understanding that belonging starts with ourselves. It is a journey of self-acceptance, and though it can be difficult, the reward of true belonging within ourselves is immeasurable.
Our world has slipped a bit regarding thank you, gratitude, and expectations. There will be those of us who always extend appreciation and those who will not. Thank you for this lovely, beautiful, and thoughtful post. I’m grateful to have found your writing, Rona, and your wonderful community as well! Merry early Christmas!
Thank you for this post and the invitation to comment, which I am taking you up on. My book was virtually ignored by those closest to me. The tighter the circle of relationship, namely siblings, their spouses and my adult children, the more deafening the silence. One of my children mentioned she'd read it, and that it "wrecked her."
If it weren't for two amazing writing friends and the occasional anonymous online reviewer, I would be bereft. It was a very tough lesson to learn. The inverse relationship between finding support from those people I'd known all of my life (and all of theirs) and people I didn't know at all or I had only recently become acquainted made me sad. I certainly wish I'd had your attitude that nobody owed me anything. The disappointment was easily the worst part of becoming a published memoirist.
I can totally relate to your experience. Signed copies hand delivered went completely ignored. It baffled me at first, then I came to expect such treatment. I appreciate your honesty and willingness to address the phenomenon of being cold-shouldered and erased. It does help me understand it happens to all of us. It also makes me want to keep sending thank you notes and commit other random acts of kindness. Oh to be somebody's orchid.
I am also celebrating Christmas this weekend. No worries on a timely response. I feel better having commiserated. I hope you continue to seek amazement.
Well, Colleen, at least family and friends didn’t call you a liar in a smear campaign on Goodreads. I’ve seen it happen. My current attitude toward the invisibility of authors did not emerge overnight. It took practice and I waver. Thank you for sharing your experience with us.
It's true, no one owes us anything. That took me a long time to learn. And here, in Substackland, that question lingers in the air around us as writers here. The paid subscription...And just as you describe your exit from the fashion magazine to the world upstairs at the more "legit" mag, and more money for you, we wonder about our value...is our work less valuable if people don't pay for it? No. I don't think so. But I do think it's important not to devalue ourselves. I write for the joy of it, for self-discovery, and to connect with like-minded people. Receiving payment for my work is a wonderful bonus. My perception of my worth has changed and as a result, I'm not giving it all away for free anymore. That means asking for what I want. There's a difference for me between having no expectations and providing an opportunity for people to step up and sign on. The important thing is to not read anything into it when I get a "no." It's just an answer. Last night I got to the point in your memoir when you leave Maclean's. I like your book, worth every penny! Happy xmas celebration today, Rona. xo
Much wisdom here, Nan. (Unsurprisingly.) It is okay for readers to say no to a paid subscription, and also okay for them to stop paying, as happened to me recently with someone who truly loved my work. It did sting a bit.
I hear you. It's hard not to wonder if we did or said something "wrong." At least, that's where I go initially! xo
I have come to expect to be thanked when I help someone in some significant way just as I expect myself to express thanks to others. I think those expressions make social interaction better. That said, i can't recall holding any grudge for a lack of thanks because if I help someone I do it because I want to.
In the golf club scenario, it's very questionable whether that rises to the level of "significant" and in any case Miss Galleon was way out of order in confronting you as she did.
And that's the valuable takeaway from your essay: life is much more pleasant if you consider being thanked or noticed a social bonus rather than a social salary.
Thanks Rona for a thought provoking essay.
“A social bonus rather than a social salary.” Must remember that. Thank you, David.
"...life is much more pleasant if you consider being thanked or noticed a social bonus rather than a social salary." This is key! Thanks for saying it, David.
Thank you, Liza. I hope today you’ll live in a Monet.
Recently a couple things made me feel this way. I made baby gifts for a neighbor and a friend it took me a considerable amount of time neither even mentioned afterwards that they liked them or said thank you. My birthday was last week and all three of my sons didn’t mention it. I got gifts from a daughter in law and an ex daughter-in-law. And all three sons were very nice about checking in on my second husband who had surgery later that week. This is the first year my bday has gone by without mention or gifts from them. Do I talk to them? My mom is a huge narcissist and never lets anything go by without making you feel bad in some way. I DONT want to make my sons feel this way.
Sigh. That’s hard, Susan. All of it. I’m sorry for the sadness here.
And I forgot to add, echoing other kind people: “Happy birthday, Susan!”
It’s ok. Just realizing that’s what’s bothering me helps
Happy Birthday, Susan! You don't know me, but I heard you.
Thank you. I feel seen and cared for
Blah. That's a lot of lack of acknowledgement happening in succession, Susan. I hope somehow it all finds a way of working out. Happy birthday!
It doesn't hurt to mention it. There really is a difference between describing your life to people who care about you and guilting them for not being on top of everything -- even important everythings like your birthday! They want you to have a happy birthday!
Thank you Glen
Happy Birthday, Susan!
Happy Birthday Susan!
Wishing all here a calm holiday. I see you all!
Feeling like I don’t matter is my tender spot - the place that even the tiniest of pokes can create a big bruise. While nursing the bruise, it helps when I remind myself that the poker likely didn’t intend the poke. They were probably caught up in their own stuff. Protecting their own tender spots and nursing their own bruises. Not only do they not owe me anything, they likely don’t even know that I might be standing with my hand out and heart hurt. Sigh….
Hand out and heart hurt. Well said, Anna. Thank you for this compassionate insight. It helps to get out of our own heads.
I feel this very much also <3
No feeling so odd or unusual that others don’t feel it too.
Your words resonate with me. At so many “social” events, I leave feeling that no one cared one whit about me. Not one question about what I like, how I spend my time, who I am. So be it. I let people talk endlessly about themselves and try to work on my listening skills.
Socializing is hard for introverts (are you one?). I try to find one sympathetic soul and mostly hang out with that person.
Exactly, Cindy. Even in a conversation with one person, I'll often conclude that I know everything about them yet they know nothing about me. I could butt in and tell them, of course. But it's not important to me that they know what's going on with me, it's important that they WANT to know.
Important distinction, Karen. It’s not at all rewarding to open up with someone who is not interested.
I feel this way after my husband's daughter’s visit. We both noticed their lack of interest in my life and goings on, but I have learned to not expect anything from them. In fact, it’s not only me, but also him they choose to ignore.
Do you wonder why they bother to come?
Yes, and I eventually stopped inviting them as often. Oh, there have been many Why discussions over the years. What's saddest is that they don't hide their self-involvement or self-importance.
It's important that they want to know? Yes. But tell them anyway.
Brilliantly written and oh how true! On the flip side, when people tell me how much they enjoyed my book (published in September) I want to cartwheel around the room with joy. And when they ask, ‘When is the next one out?’ I am almost moved to tears. These moments make up for the (rude) people who ignore us.
Yes, there’s nothing like the joy of touching a reader. We are blessed—although it’s easy to forget. Congratulations on your book, Rosy.
Thank you. It’s received some great reviews and I’m over the moon!
A timely essay, so many are feeling alone on the holidays. I am sort of a black sheep, outcast hermit, and ya know what? It’s ok. I read my books and write my words out here in the woods, weeks can go by when I hear no living human voice but that of my husband and Darth Landlord. Husband goes off to work six days a week, I keep track of where Darth Landlord’s swearing is coming from on the property, just to be sure the old man hasn’t fallen or done some other foolishness to himself. I listen to what we call the “chuck,” the slow crackling of water into bits of crispy ice along the pond’s edge. I listen to Brahms while I work. I still have small moments of regret, I was always wishing I could do more and more for others until I was a dried up husk, and was abandoned by most. Now, after a decade in the woods, I am full, of quiet and of peace. Sometimes even joy. I wish you all such.
How evocative. I can picture your life, hear the chuck.
Great essay, Rona. I've had a few disappointments lately as they relate to not receiving expected thank yous for wedding gifts sent. I'm still waiting for a thank you for a wedding gift sent to a couple that married in another state that I was not able to attend over one year ago, and another out-of-state wedding I couldn't attend in September. I'm beginning to think thank yous from the younger generation is passe. I've been mulling the idea for the past several weeks on writing an essay on the dying art of thank yous. But, thank you for the great essay.
Great topic, Nancy. The Washington Post just looked at the failure to write notes for Christmas gifts, but it’s a bigger topic.
I hope you write the essay. I'd love to read it.
This resonates in many ways, Rona. I have siblings who haven't read my book, including a brother who's a published author. So much for literary citizenship, right? No one in my family reads anything I write, including my newsletter that drops in their inbox monthly. The part inside me that hurts is slowly disappearing. Someday, I truly won't care (without resentment or regret). Enjoy your orchid!
Karen, there are so many in your situation and mine. Knowing this helps me get over myself. And the orchid, now long gone, is such a sweet, consoling memory.
Rona, beautiful as always. It is important that we remind ourselves of this simple fact of life, otherwise we develop a sense of entitlement that has become all too common in our culture. Lola and I think of you and Casey daily when we go for our walks. Happy holidays to you and yours.
Thank you, Matthew, for your encouragement and good wishes. I don’t need to tell you every walks with Lola is precious.
So true and I know the feeling. But I also have to acknowledge that I am sometimes the one who slips up, forgets, procrastinates. One of my dearest adult friends told me a truth over 30 years ago. We met in a divorce recovery group and on an early outing, I had commented that while married and working mostly with men, I had never had many adult women friends and was enjoying her friendship. Many months later, getting together after not seeing each other for weeks, she gently commented that she had missed me and has to remind herself that 'Leslie doesn't have much experience with being a good friend as an adult.' She was right and I have tried to be better, but I still postpone or neglect the prompt note for the perfect one and leave many wondering if I still care. The easiest friends for me are the long relationships from college or younger where we saw each other daily. When we now we live far apart, I treasure that when we do see each other or talk on the phone, it is like yesterday. So now with your essay at heart and my friend's words remembered, I'm going to go write those Christmas notes Right Now.
Yes, I too am conscious of all those moments when I fall short with people, including friends. Your wise friend’s words to you made an impact. I will DM you.
I love this; what a friendship can be: "I never thought to send her flowers or anything else, but my friend was never one to keep score. She knew we didn’t owe each other anything. Between us it was all free, our cups running over." Thank you, Rona, for your words here today.
Thank you, Amanda. Ending this piece took a while.
The ending was a moment of grace.
Thank you for your powerful words. I resonate deeply with the idea that self-validation is where true fulfillment lies. For so long, I sought external approval, only to realize that what I truly needed was to accept and validate myself. As Maya Angelou beautifully put it:
"You only are free when you realize you belong no place - you belong every place - no place at all. The price is high. The reward is great."
This speaks to the freedom that comes from within, from understanding that belonging starts with ourselves. It is a journey of self-acceptance, and though it can be difficult, the reward of true belonging within ourselves is immeasurable.
Maya Angelou nailed it, as always. Thank you!
Our world has slipped a bit regarding thank you, gratitude, and expectations. There will be those of us who always extend appreciation and those who will not. Thank you for this lovely, beautiful, and thoughtful post. I’m grateful to have found your writing, Rona, and your wonderful community as well! Merry early Christmas!
Rona,
Thank you for this post and the invitation to comment, which I am taking you up on. My book was virtually ignored by those closest to me. The tighter the circle of relationship, namely siblings, their spouses and my adult children, the more deafening the silence. One of my children mentioned she'd read it, and that it "wrecked her."
If it weren't for two amazing writing friends and the occasional anonymous online reviewer, I would be bereft. It was a very tough lesson to learn. The inverse relationship between finding support from those people I'd known all of my life (and all of theirs) and people I didn't know at all or I had only recently become acquainted made me sad. I certainly wish I'd had your attitude that nobody owed me anything. The disappointment was easily the worst part of becoming a published memoirist.
I can totally relate to your experience. Signed copies hand delivered went completely ignored. It baffled me at first, then I came to expect such treatment. I appreciate your honesty and willingness to address the phenomenon of being cold-shouldered and erased. It does help me understand it happens to all of us. It also makes me want to keep sending thank you notes and commit other random acts of kindness. Oh to be somebody's orchid.
I am also celebrating Christmas this weekend. No worries on a timely response. I feel better having commiserated. I hope you continue to seek amazement.
Well, Colleen, at least family and friends didn’t call you a liar in a smear campaign on Goodreads. I’ve seen it happen. My current attitude toward the invisibility of authors did not emerge overnight. It took practice and I waver. Thank you for sharing your experience with us.