Good Life Project - You Spent Years Acting Normal Inside a Life That Never Fit | Sari Botton

Episode Date: June 22, 2026

Gotta love a good midlife reinvention story, and today we’ve got a great one!Sari Botton built her career editing some of the most celebrated voices in American literary nonfiction. Then, in her mid-50s, she watched doors close in her face, turned down for jobs she was overqualified for, told by interviewers in their 30s that she had "done enough." Out of that experience, she launched Oldster Magazine on Substack, a publication dedicated to aging honestly, at every age. It became a global phenomenon, and led to a book deal. She turned 60 and called it the best moment of her career.In this conversation, Jonathan and Sari explore:Why the most painful thing about midlife is not getting older but realizing how long you spent performing a version of yourself that never quite fitWhat it costs to live at the intersection of "should" and "whatever," and what becomes possible when you stopThe Gen X inheritance: latchkey-kid freedom, zero parenting bandwidth, and a generation that had to figure out what normal even meantWhy the best memoir illuminates the mundane, and why women claiming that territory is a quietly radical actWhat it means to be "found-ish": knowing the truest part of yourself while staying open to how life keeps changing youSari arrived at the conversation we are having right now by surviving the wrong relationships, the wrong careers, and a deep reluctance to let herself want what she actually wanted. If any of that sounds familiar, this conversation is for you.You can find Sari at: Website | Instagram | Oldster Substack | Episode TranscriptNext week, I am doing a solo episode on something I have been sitting with for a long time: the hidden resentment you are probably carrying right now, and why it might be one of the most honest things about you. If you think you are not carrying any, that is especially worth your time. Be sure to follow Good Life Project wherever you get your podcasts so you do not miss it.Check out our offerings & partners: Join My New Writing Project: Awake at the WheelVisit Our Sponsor Page For Great Resources & Discount Codes Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

So few of us consciously decided to suppress who we were in life. We just kind of slid into relationships, careers, and personas that looked right from the outside. And then when we looked up somewhere in our 40s or 50s or later and thought, when did I agree to this? That's what happened with today's fun and inspiring reinvention story guest, Saribotten. Sarri built her career editing some of the most celebrated voices in American literary nonfiction. Then in her mid-50s she was let go and watched doors close in her face. Being turned down for jobs she was overqualified for, even told by interviewers in their 30s that she had, quote, done enough and it was kind of time to step aside.

Out of that experience, she launched Oldster magazine on Substack, a publication dedicated to aging honestly at every age. It became a global phenomenon. Sari recently turned 60 and called it the best moment of her career. In our conversation, we talk about why the most painful thing about midlife is not getting older, but realizing how long you spent performing a version of yourself that never quite fit. We talk about the Gen X inheritance, Lacks Key Kid, Freedom, Zero Parenting Bandwidth, and a generation that had to figure out what normal even meant.

And we explore how sometimes an unplanned push out the door can serve as an unexpected opening to a whole new adventure and how following your instinct and taking control is, so much more fun and empowering than just waiting to be chosen. And finally, why it's never too late to reinvent and reimagine and start centering your own special flavor of weird in your work and your life. So excited to share this conversation with you. I'm Jonathan Fields and this is Good Life Project. And we'll jump right in after this short break. As we had this conversation, I believe you and I are actually the same age. Your birthday is about a month before mine. So we both turned 60 last fall. And I've done a lot of kind of rethinking about what it means to be my

AIDS, to be in my body, my relationships, my career, my life, really, over the past few years. And I'm curious, in your mind, what is, what's sort of like the single most surprising or counterintuitive thing that you've discovered about just getting older? The best thing I've learned, the biggest surprise has been how much possibility there is in getting older. Our culture doesn't want you to know that. Marketers want to create problems and sell you solutions. They don't want you to know that there is so much more ahead than we know. Now, yes, we're doing this in bodies that are being affected by gravity and the ravages of time.

Yes, we're, you know, there are things changing and hurting, but I've learned from my contributors, from commenters that later in life, there are so many opportunities to try new things, to discover new things about yourself, to take chances at a time when you care less about other people's opinions. And it's bearing out for me. I am having the best moment of my career at 60. And I could not have anticipated that. In fact, I was rather publicly freaking out about turning 60 for about a year and a half. You know, every opportunity I got either on social media or on Oldster, I would say, oh, God, I'm so nervous about turning 60, you know, from the time I was about 58 and a half. And, and then I turned 60.

and all of a sudden, things are going so well for me. And, you know, I'm at the top of my game. I've got so much experience and skill. You know, you really come into your own in a way later that you couldn't have earlier. So it's been a wonderful surprise to learn that things are getting better for me after turning 60. Yeah, because that is, that's not the narrative that so many of us are told, right? It's sort of like, okay, so we're entering that sort of like, quote, final season of life. Yeah. And, you know, expect decline, expect physical decline, expect lower energy, expect to not be passionate or interested. You know, this is where you kick back, you know, and maybe this is where you turn around to be of service, which a lot of people do, because, you know, that seems to be the thing that presents itself. But what you're describing, It's so counter to the narrative that's so often told to us.

You know, when you hit a certain age, it's like, okay, now is the time you pull back. And you're like, no. I'm just getting started. Not only that, but women in particular are told that we become invisible later. And I have a story that I published this summer on Oldster called All the Young Dudes about being hit on at 59 by a 20. seven-year-old at superiority burger in the East Village. And it was just mind-blowing. And I've had a few other interactions, short relationships with younger men in my past, you know, in my late 30s. And, you know, it's so counter to what women are told is going to happen to them, that we're

irrelevant, that we're invisible, that we're unattractive. And throughout the piece, I have this refrain. There's an ex that lives rent-free in my head, you know, telling me in my 30s that when we get older, he's going to still be able to get young women and I'm going to be invisible. And, you know, and then throughout the piece, I talk about this encounter with a 27-year-old who, we were in a dark, you know, we were eating at the bar. It was dark. I guess he couldn't see that I had gray hair and a wrinkly neck and a wedding band, by the way. But it was a lovely conversation and it ended with him asking for my phone number, which was really not what I anticipated. So there's a lot about getting older that is different than what we've been told

or are being told. Yeah. I mean, where do you think that narrative comes from? Because it is pervasive. I think it's capitalism. I really do. I think that brands make their money by creating problems and offering us solutions to them. And so they're always trying to make us think we need more things. We need more creams. We need... I also think that we've got a youth-obsessed culture. I mean, youth is pretty great. Young people are really beautiful. You know, They've got a lot of energy. But so are old people. Older people.

I really have come to learn and believe that. You know, I also think sexism, patriarchy, that contributes to it, you know. And another factor is that we didn't use to live as long as we're living now. So the narrative about what a 60-year-old is. year old is like, doesn't match now what it did before. We're living so much longer. There are so many centenarians, is that the word? Centarians? Centarians? Either one works for me. I'm probably going to need to really learn that word because there are more and more of them. And everybody wants me to give the oldster questionnaire to every one of them in their lives. But, you know,

now that we're living so much longer, what we thought a 60-year-old was like, a 70-year-old was like, is not the same as what, you know, what those ages represented years ago when we were growing up. Yeah, it's so interesting you say that. I was literally just listening to a podcast last week,

and there was somebody on the podcast that was, and they were kind of goofing around, saying it in Jess, but kind of not really also saying, I think every person should start to have to get a retest for their driver's license at the age of 60. And this was a person who I think was probably in the early 30s. And I'm just thinking, our concept of like what a human being is and is not at the age of 60 is just so wildly off right now. I'm just like, wait, what?

I know. I went to a book launch a few summers ago for someone who wrote a novel about a, a guy in his 30s who encounters a guy in his 60s. And the guy in his 60s is portrayed as what I would think of as like someone in their 90s. And I was like six months away from 60. And I just kept cracking up. And I had like I got the giggles. And I was at like, you know, in a bookstore at a book reading.

And I was like, what? What? That's no. That's not how that is. But a person in their 30s might think that. Yeah, I mean, surrounds themselves. Yeah, I certainly would have. So we kind of jumped into the deep end of the pool.

For those who don't have context of who you are and what you've been up to you, self-proclaimed theater kid, you spent a lot of time in your professional life in writing and editing. And then this really interesting left turn happens about five or so years ago. Take me there. So I was an editor at a magazine called Longreads, an online, a digital magazine, and I left thinking that I would sort of slide into another job. Like, I knew of a couple that had just opened up, that were right up my alley, that people were calling me and saying, like, oh, you got to apply for that. And then I suddenly, like, if I even got a first interview, I couldn't get a second interview. And people were saying really ages things to me.

And, you know, I was being interviewed by people in their 30s. And they were saying things to me like, haven't you done enough of this? Aren't you ready to try something else? Like, what? I'm just like reaching the top of my game. What are you talking about? You know, I was 54. And one person said to me, I'm surprised a legend like you would even be interested in a job like this, which is a very backhanded way of saying you're overqualified.

But also like, you know, when you hear it from a 30-year-old, it's like you're not complimenting me right now. You know, and then the jobs went to people in their 30s. And my eyes were opened. And then so many other jobs, I could not even get an interview in a field that I was kind of a star in. Everybody wanted to be published by me at Longreeds. I also, I freelanced. I was a freelance editor at Catapult for a while and everybody wanted to work with me. And yet I could not get arrested in the job market.

And then, so at Longreeds, I had started a series called Fine Line. that was the precursor to Oldster. I knew I wasn't done by any means with the subject when I left at 54. I had barely scratched the surface, and I wanted to continue with it, but I also knew I needed to come up with another name. And I was stumped. I just could not come up with another name. And then about 15 months after I left Longreeds, in August of 23,000. I had a dream that I started a magazine called Oldster.

And I had that dream right before I woke up. I woke up and I thought it was hilarious. I made a joke about it on Twitter, which I'm no longer on. So you can't see that tweet anymore. And then I realized, wait a minute. This is actually brilliant. And I went right on Substack and I just launched it. And it took right off.

It just took off like a shot. And I just, I've been improvising since then. And it just keeps growing. It keeps growing. I've got now 85,000 subscribers. Only a small percentage are paid. And I keep trying to let people know that, you know, that's how paid subscriptions are how, you know, how I do this.

I also pay essayists and interest. interviewers. So more and more I'm getting people on board with that idea. You know, we, we were all trained from the advent of the internet not to pay for anything because everything was paid for by, you know, advertisers and sponsors and, you know, venture capitalists. And that's not how this works anymore. So, but it's working. It's working and it's great. And I'm having the time of my life. I really love what I'm. doing, love what I'm learning, love all the people I'm encountering. It's just been fantastic. So, I mean, when you wake up with that dream and you think this is kind of silly, this

kind of goofy, I post a little thing. And then you actually pretty quickly after decide, oh, I'm not just going to put something up. I'm going to create a substack called Alter. And this was also 2021-ish, right? Yeah, yeah, August 2021. So it's kind of like the earlier days before substack is, you know, like capitalized substack that everybody knows. Now, were you surprised by the response? Yes and no. I've been at this game a long time. I published two very popular best-selling anthologies,

goodbye to all that and never can say goodbye. And I was a much sought-after editor at Longreeds and at Catapult. I have been a teacher in MFA program. and also different schools. So, you know, on the one hand, I was pleasantly surprised at how quickly it picked up. But I also had this sense that there were people who were waiting to hear from me. You know, I had an audience. And, you know, so it was, it was well-timed.

I had been out of the public eye for a while. and so, you know, I think that it was a natural that people were going to latch on to this. Yeah, I think that I was already established. I had a certain platform. But I didn't realize how great a formula substack has for making this kind of thing grow. you know, they blend together the best components of a blogging platform with crowdfunding and social media virality. And without that, I don't think I'd be succeeding at this. What in your mind, when you looked at everything else that was being written or shared, what wasn't being said that you wanted to say?

or done that you wanted to do? Most aging-related media is targeted at women over a certain age. And I wasn't seeing aging-related media that covered not only everyone, regardless of gender, but also a wider range of people age-wise. I have been obsessed with what you're supposed to do at what age since I was 10. It wasn't like a new middle-aged curiosity for me. It was something I'd been holding on to curious about, anxious about, obsessed with since I was a kid who was either doing things before or after my peers. And also, I've told this story so many times.

But at my 10th birthday party, my uncle showed up and said, wow, you'll never be one digit again. And it was just like the most mind-blowing piece of information. And it freaked me out. And it started this like obsession with what are you supposed to do when? Am I doing everything on time? Is everybody on a different path than me? And I've lived a slightly different life, like a non-conform. I'm married, but I don't have children. My husband and I are both, like, very creative. Our house, we describe our house as like an arts camp for two people. You know, and so not being on the same script as most people has been wonderful because it fits me, but I've always been anxious about, am I doing it wrong? And, and, and,

my timeline is what I've been most anxious about. And so I didn't see other people covering this the way that I am covering this. And so that made room for me to do it differently than everybody else and really stand out, which I think is what's happened. Yeah, that makes a lot of sense to me, having followed your work for probably a couple of years now. You have this really interesting concept or sort of a question, you know, which is, And this is related to your last book, actually, and you may find yourself a classic part of a line from talking headsome. And the idea is, what if the pain of midlife is not getting older, but realizing how many years you spent trying to act, quote, normal inside of a life that never really fit? Take me into this.

Yeah, you know, like I talked about before, you know, there's always been this anxiety. that I wasn't like other people in certain ways. And so for a lot of my young adulthood, I was pretending to be other people. I didn't realize it until later. I wasn't like, I'm going to now pretend I'm outdoorsy. It was like I really just kind of, oh, there's a thing that people like.

Let me, you know, I just sort of like naturally slid into these ideas of who I should be, and I tried to manifest. them and they always brought me to the wrong place, the wrong people. And I have wasted a lot of time being upset that I wasted a lot of time and that's useless. I mean, it all led me here where I feel like I belong. Like my life feels like it fits right now and maybe I couldn't have gotten there more quickly. Maybe, you know, I had to be in all those wrong places. It makes for some really funny stories. I mean, I did some really crazy, crazy things in the service of trying to fit in

and trying to get people to like me, trying to get men to like me. And I think a lot of people do that. Maybe not to the extreme that I did. But it is really important for me to not waste more time regretting all of that. And, you know, I turned it into art. And, you know, I turned it into art. And I always have to remember that it brought me here, and here is where I want to be. And so that's the big takeaway for me these days. You know, when I was promoting that memoir, it came out in 2022, everywhere I went, every book event I did, whenever I posted about it, people wrote in and said that they always felt different. And what I kind of gleaned from that was that most people feel different. And here I am thinking everyone else feels normal and I'm just this weirdo.

But everyone feels like a weirdo. Maybe not all the time, but at big points in their lives, people are feeling like weirdos. Totally agree with them. My nickname in sixth grade was Freaky Field, so I get it. And I fought that because I was always, like you described, I was always a different I looked at the world differently. I'm a lefty. I'm very creative.

I was an artist. But as a kid, it was the last thing I wanted to be. The only thing you want to be is like everybody else. And even you move into like early adulthood. And like still, that's the only thing you want to be. And I often wonder like,

what needs to happen for us to realize that the thing that made us strings that we tried to bury for most of our lives is actually where the gold lies. It is where the gold lies. It is really the essence of who you are. I mean, you have to find a way to get along with people and function at a job. I mean, you have to, you know, kind of put away certain parts of yourself to get through the world day to day.

But it doesn't mean that you can't on the side do your stand-up comedy or, you know, make your music or. And also, like, in your interpersonal relationships, be who you truly are. you know, one of the things that's so hard about being yourself is that it isn't for everyone. That was a really hard lesson for me to learn. And I learned it from a phone psychic, by the way. You have to tell this story then. Yeah. And we'll be right back after a word from our sponsors.

It's a 1-900 phone psychic that I called. I was like really unhappy in a relationship, but I was afraid to break up. Like, what if all relationships are bad? And, you know, and I would occasionally call phone psychics. I can't believe. Like, oh, my God, would I ring up on my credit card that I couldn't pay? But this was the last call I made to a phone psychic, and I'm pretty sure I got Stephen Glass on the phone. he got busted later for he did a piece for Harper's in which he allegedly posed as a phone psychic and then interviewed a lot of phone psychics.

And he later admitted that most of it was fabricated, but that he did answer he was a phone psychic for a while. And I am almost 100% sure it was him that I spoke to. And what he said to me was not everyone is supposed to get you. And that's really important information. When somebody doesn't get you, you let them go and you free up space for someone who will get you. And I guess I didn't believe in my 30s, you know, when the clock was ticking and I didn't yet quite know that I didn't want children. You know, I didn't, I was worried that there wasn't going to be someone who was going to get me because I was so different in so many ways. And then I let that guy go.

And not long after, I guess a few years, I met someone who totally gets me, you know, another creative weirdo. And we are so well suited. And we've been together now 23 years. But I didn't know I could have that. You know, I really didn't know I could have that. And so I held on to people who didn't get me because I didn't think I was getable. I think so many of us do that in so many different ways in our lives. And we don't realize we're doing it, I think, is one of the big things.

You know, it's not like we're actively trying to sort of like say, I'm just going to, I'm going to grasp onto what feels like safe and mainstream and completely disavow the thing that makes me weird and also amazing. We just kind of do it. It just becomes the fabric of our lives. It's not like a daily conscious decision until often something happens. whether it's a moment or health care or a big relationship, something like that, which kind of shakes us, makes us, I think, often aware of our mortality to a certain extent

and the passing of time. It's like, whoa, wait, I may not be promised more than what I have. And if that's the case, how do I want to wake up tomorrow? Like, what am I going to say yes and no to? That's different. You know, I, that really resonates for me. When I was working on my book, I thought so much about my two grandmothers who died in their 50s. And one died at 51, a few years before I was born, and one died at 55 and was, you know, we were very, very close.

She died when I was almost seven. And so their short lives have been looming over me, my whole life. And so here I was working on my book at 54, 55, and then getting to the place where I had outlived them both. But I didn't know, like, I don't know. Is that how long women live? You know, does it skip a generation? Because my mother is 85.

but like, you know, and my dad is 91, but like I thought, you know, I better do some of the things I want to do because I don't know how long I have because my grandmothers didn't get to become who they might have been, you know. And I think of that George Elliott quote, it's never too late to be who you might have been. It's something like that. And my grandmothers didn't get that. And so, So I made a conscious choice to take that for myself. And right now, I feel like our world, our country, have been given a terminal diagnosis. And so I feel an urgency to do all the things I really, really want to do, publish the Old Star Anthology, which I just got a deal for, put on live events. I've now done two variety shows, one in Kingston. at a bar called Unicorn and one at Joe's Pub in Manhattan. Both were sold out.

I'm about to do a Gen X-Chi karaoke, piano karaoke event at Sid Golds, June 10th. And then August 7th, I'm going to have the fifth birthday party for Oldster, another variety show at Joe's Pub. These are things I would not have had the courage to try to put on a few years ago. and I think the feeling like the world's clock is ticking is emboldening me and also adding this sense of urgency. Like, I better just do all the things I always waited for permission for. And let me just give myself some permission and do all the things I want to do. And I'm doing them.

Yeah, I feel like a lot of people became reacquainted with that sense during the pandemic. Or a lot of us were like, oh, wait. Yeah. Either you were very personally touched. or like there were enough people close to you there where there were scary moments where you're kind of like, wow. A cousin my age died of COVID. Yeah, it was horrific. And I think that moment it shook so many people.

I think that's where we saw, you know, that phenomenon that was called the great resignation, you know, because all these people were like, wait, if I don't know what tomorrow brings, what I'm waking up to is the fact that the way to unspellingation. You know, because all these people are like, wait, if I don't know what tomorrow brings, what I'm waking up to is the fact that the weight on spending the vast majority of my waking hours is not giving me the feeling that I want to have. So I've got to find something else that may be well. Oh, definitely. But what's weird to me is that as soon as we emerge from that window, so many people, the pendulum is small back to them. and they're like, let me go back to the way things were it felt safe. And like the new approach is saying, let me explore life where I get to show up as me, but it's wildly uncertain and completely unknown, was scarier than the thought of returning

to a life that was defined yet probably perpetually small. Yeah. I think that was a factor for me. You know, I started oldster in August of 2021, I think in the middle of another COVID wave. You know, there were so many waves. And I also had just come out of the acute phase of mono. I got mono in June of 2021. And I was sick for six months.

but the acute phase was the first couple of months. And suddenly that August I was like, I just felt like, wow, I've really been held back. I don't want to live like that. I don't want my life to be small. You know, I was sleeping so much. And, no, I just was like, okay, I'm taking charge of things. You have this powerful phrase about, tell me if I'm getting this right, living at the intersection of should and whatever.

Yes. Which is interesting because when you hear the beginning of that, you're like, oh, I know the word that's going to be the other side of it. It's like should and like desire or should and want, you know, but you say whatever. And I think that's really interesting. Take me into that. Well, I feel like there's been this tug of war between should and just a free-floating, just do whatever you want kind of attitude that I've been wrestling with that my whole life. like what should I be doing? And then there's just this whole, you know, world of possibility where I could just do whatever I want.

I feel like a lot of Gen X lives at that intersection, too, between should and whatever. You know, these rules and then also this like notion like, oh, there's just, just do whatever you want. And I wonder also part of that is that we don't really know what we want. for most of the time. That's another thing. It's hard to know. Yeah. And we also don't know.

And this is a perpetual question that's certainly not limited to Gen X. It's a conversation a couple of years back with a guy named Matthew Kroseman who teaches a course at Yale. I'm blanking on the name of it. But he said the course is the most frustrating course for the kids because it's all questions and no answers.

And one of the questions was what's worth wanting. And so often we ask the question, what do I want? But we rarely ever ask the question, you're like, is that worth wanting? How do you answer that question? And that's fascinating to me. And so your sort of like frame kind of triggered that in me also. Interesting. Interesting.

That's an interesting question. I've never even contemplated that. But it is hard to know what you want. I think it's even harder for women because there are so many shoulds that we are exposed to and have been historically. You know, it was really hard for me to allow myself to know that I didn't want to be a mom. I think that deep down I knew, but I put myself and my husband through hell like fertility crap, you know, before, you know, we found out that I was literally incapable of carrying a baby to term,

and it was the biggest relief. But I had a very hard time knowing that I didn't want children because I thought I should want children. I didn't think there was the whatever possibility of two adults living in a house that they treat as an arts camp, which is whatever. Should is, well, you're this age and you should be a mother because everyone's a mother, everyone has children. You know, especially people who are married, you know, straight cis people have children.

That's what people do. They carry on the family name. They, you know, and the whatever is what I'm living right now, which I love. But it was hard to know because there's this societal pressure to stick with the norm. And I am not a normie. And it has been really hard for me to accept that. about myself and it's one of my favorite things about myself. I mean, there's a flip side it occurs to me also to stick with the norm.

You know, like that's, and, and what simultaneously is happening, like, the other side to that coin, which says, like, follow the norm, you know, like, don't buck the trend is, suppress everything that is not the norm. And if that's you, if you're, like, if you fall wildly outside of the norm, You know, it's not just that you're not following that, nor it's not that just you're conforming to like public expectation or familial expectation what it is. It's like you're actively repressing or suppressing who you are and who you need to be able to feel whole and good and show up in the world in a way which makes you feel like alive. I was doing that. I was really doing that. And I was doing it in a variety of ways. You know, I started off, you know, I married very young the first time and I was going to have this suburban married. life and children, and it, you know, it wasn't for me. And then I sort of hewed to these alternative norms, you know, like chick who dates music guys or outdoorsy person, you know,

like they weren't like the straight and narrow, but they were also like kind of types. and they weren't who I was above all. So, I mean, I'm a little outdoorsy. I do like to go outside. But I should not have been like, you know, hiking at the level that I was because, A, I don't like it and B, I'm not good at it. And the same with like skiing. I hate skiing. Oh, my God, I've been skiing so many goddamn times.

And I hate it. And I'm bad at it. But I was doing it because it was like I was being a certain type. that is like normal on the like on this you know like an alternative normal but I I'm just a weird person who's me and I don't check a lot of the normal boxes and I like that about myself and I'm so glad I finally let myself be who I am yeah I mean part of jumping back to earlier part of our conversation is you know so when you in 2021, you launch Oldster and all sudden a community coalesces around this. And it's not just you

telling the stories or inviting people. And this is, by the way, of any ages. It's like 30s to now 90s, right, telling their story in a fairly standardized way. Your voice shows up all over this also in a lot of different ways. Like, your weird gets to also, it folds into everything that's happening here. So it's not just, and tell me if this lands with you, but it seems like it's not just people showing up and saying, oh, hell yeah, we want these conversations. We want these shared stories. But they're also responding to you and saying, I like you're weird. Like, whatever it is, like, more please. And that is, like, it can be such a powerful moment for us. It is so powerful. It is so validating. You know, every now and then people are like, why don't you hire an assistant,

assistant editor and have other people writes, you know, I mean, the Ulster is mostly written by other people. It's, you know, contributors contributing personal essays and ulster questionnaires and sober oldster questionnaires. Most of the content is written by other people, although I've added a weekly letter from the editor. But, you know, the questions are framed by me. There are intros where I speak up. And I don't think I want someone else's voice as the host, you know. I really don't want that. I also don't know that people would respond as well.

Someone whose newsletter I really, really love, has started having more guest hosts, you know, guest feature people. And I don't respond to it as well. I don't even read it the way I read it before because it's not that person that made me really connect with the newsletter. So I don't want to do that to Oldster. And also, I'm just really loving connecting with everybody. Yeah, I think that's such a huge part, right? And I think I wonder if sometimes that's one of the things that we're missing.

We don't realize matters when we're trying to figure out, okay, so there's a voice inside of me. there's like a pressure that's built to a point where I actually can't keep me silent or quiet or like away from everybody now. It's got to be laid out, but we're still terrified. And I think the terror there is that we know that a lot of the people that we've surrounded ourselves with up until now are we're going to lose them, right? Because they bought into the avatar that we've been showing up as not the actual person behind it. And when that, you know, when when when the curtain.

falls on that and like the real life shows up, they're going to be like, nah, didn't sign up for that. And we're terrified of that. And rightly so. But like what we're not acknowledging is the fact that there are other people out there. That's the whole thing. You know, I think so often about that conversation I had with who I think was Stephen Glass, the phone psychic when he was like, not everybody's going to get you and let go of the people who don't. And that will make room for the people who do. And I encounter that again and again. again, you know, as I become more me, as I put more of me into the world, this is something that is very interesting that I've been doing lately and it's been paying off. I've been paying

attention to these younger writers who they're millennial, maybe one is Gen Z, who have so much confidence. They don't do this awful Gen X thing of self-deprient. for creed. You know, Gen X. There's a very Gen X thing. It's like, I can't stand it.

It's such a hard pattern to break. It is, it is a pattern that I, you know, mimicked and had been doing like, oh, I'm the worst. You know,

couldn't take a compliment. And also, like, any time I was going to share something of mine, you know, I would put it on Twitter and be like, I wrote a thing,

you know, instead of like, I watched these younger women, they're like, I think this might be the best thing I've ever written. Or, you know, look at me. I'm shining now and it's my time. And I'm like, what? What?

And so I've been trying to pick up on that. I think it's a better way to be. I'm not going out there and being like, I'm the best, but I'm owning what I'm producing. And I'm putting it out there, proudly without then doing that Gen X thing of self deprecating for cred, you know, of cutting myself down so that people won't think I'm stuck up like they said in my junior high, you know, oh, she's stuck up because she thinks she deserves to be in the play. Oh, she's stuck up because she thinks she can sing. You know, I'm getting those voices out of my head with the help of young millennials. and older Gen Z writers. I'm just watching them.

They're like, hey, read this thing I wrote. I really love it and I think you might too. And I'm like, oh, you can do that? And I'm doing it. I'm just, well, really what I'm doing is just not adding that self-deprecation at the end. I'm just, hey, look at me. I just got a book deal or, you know, I'm going to make this event.

I am losing some people. you know, being this person who's putting on shows at Joe's pub. And, like, I think there are some people who have fallen off friends who are like, okay, Sarri's just doing a lot of weird stuff. And I can't with this. And it's okay. It's okay. It really is.

And we'll be right back after a word from our sponsors. It's like when you have to trust that the right people will then show up when you start to show more of, you and say, oh, yeah, like, I've been waiting for that and hoping it was there and now I know. And that's pretty awesome. I want to be with the people who are excited that I'm putting on shows at shows pub and who are going to buy a ticket, honestly, you know? Something else I wanted to ask you about that, I thought was really interesting. I guess it was the forward to you may ask yourself. It's kind of quietly radical.

You're not just arguing for the existence of the book. It's like you are defending women in particular's right to write about everyday life. Why does that feel transgressive? Women are conditioned not to call attention to ourselves. And also, you know, historically, most books were written by men. And so the norms of how relationships are, how people are represented or presented in society, those rules were written by men in novels and memoirs. And we have to, as women, just kind of show up and say, no, this is how our life is. This is what our day-to-day life is.

But also the meat and potatoes of memoir, like the people who really read memoir and love it, they want to find identification. They want to see their own experience reflected in memoirs. And in order to do that, you can't just be writing about like huge, you know, anomalous life events, winning the lottery. your mother was murdered or, you know, like these outstanding experiences. The best of memoir is not about exceptional experiences. It's about, it illuminates the mundane. It takes the mundane of life and reinterprets it. It gives it meaning.

It shows it in a way that people can step in and say, oh, she's describing a phenomenon that is familiar to me that I never realized was profound, But it is profound because it is part of being human. And so women need to show up and say, hey, our experience is part of being human too. It's not just the way that, you know, John Cheever presented things or Hemingway or, you know, it's like there's more to life. There's women's experience. And we need to show up and say, this is what it's like to be me.

and other people can then say, hey, that's what it's like to be me too. That's what readers can see. Yeah, I think I say it better in the book. It's a little more articulate about it in the book, but the best of memoir really illuminates the mundane. It illuminates those parts of humanity that are not exceptional. I so agree.

I think we're so caught up in like the big moments and the big stories. And it's like, but if you think about your own life, even if you haven't had like those really big moments guaranteed, there are 100 or a thousand tiny little passing moments or vignettes where you're like, that, like that, that is where the marrow of this life has lived. And yet we just kind of like we gloss over them because we're waiting for the big thing to happen. And maybe it will, maybe it won't. But that doesn't mean that it's not good in like so many of the tiny passing moments along the way that we devalue. It's true. I also, you know, back to the point of women doing this, we've been watching these cozy British mysteries on PBS masterpiece.

And they're wonderful, but they all take place like in the 1930s, 1950s. And the women in them, you know, as chill as they are to watch and, you know, we watch at the end of the night at the end of the world. You know, it's like we need it to numb ourselves. But the women exist only to serve the men. And that is what most of the narratives have been until recently, you know. It's depressing to me to see all these women in roles that really are, they're ornamental. And so now is the time for us to say, especially when all of our rights are being reversed, starting with our reproductive rights and, you know, who knows what else. else is, you know, they want to take away our right to vote, you know, the Heritage Foundation people.

We really need to show up and show a different norm, which is, you know, what it's like to be a woman. Yeah. The epilogue to your last book, found ish. Why ish? Well, I think there's no one identity that is the real you. I think that we evolve over time. I also, you know, the world changed. And as I was writing the book, I realized some things that things I thought were true about me,

weren't really true about me. I realized that, you know, like everybody, I'm a work in progress. And I think the pandemic really blew my mind. I think having mono really blue. my mind. And so I had to really think about, like, am I going to say that, you know, the first chapter is called Lost. I thought the last chapter was going to be called Found.

And in a way, I am found. I know how to get to the truth of who I am, but we all keep changing. The world keeps changing us. As the world changes, we change with it. And as new opportunities arise, there's always a chance to become a fake version of yourself, to try and make it work. And I have to stop myself. I still have to stop myself and say, do I really want to become a different version of myself so that I can get this? Do I really want this badly enough to not be me doing it? An interesting example is I was interviewed for this video series at the New York Times.

They were doing something aging related, and they interviewed me. And I sensed I was giving the wrong answers, but they were the true answers to what I think and who I am. And when I got off the phone, I was like, oh, they're not going to pick me. And then I've now watched three episodes of the video series, and I hate it. And I am so glad I did not get picked. And I'm proud of myself for not contorting myself to give what seemed like the right answers so that I would be chosen. And I was like, good job, Sari. You're learning.

You're learning, you know, to like connect to that inner core of who you really are as things are moving, you know? Like, so I'm foundish. I'm, I know who the, like, the deepest part of me is, but as things change, you know, it's, there's this, there's always this temptation to adapt myself. Yeah, I think we all feel it. feels like a good place for us to come full circle in our conversation as well. So in this container of Good Life project, if I offer up the phrase to live a good life, what comes up? To be open to possibility and to be kind to yourself so that you can fully be yourself. And let that take you to the things that belong to you, that really belong to you,

instead of the consolation prizes that you don't really want. Thank you. Thank you. So some of the things I am sitting with about this conversation with Sarah. She did not wake up one morning and just decide to suppress who she was. She just kind of slid naturally, imperceptibly, into versions of herself that looked right from the outside. And she looked up at some point and thought, when did I agree to this? I think most of us have had some version of that moment.

Or if not yet, pretty safe bet you're heading towards it. two things from this conversation in addition I want to walk away holding. First, this concept that she described as found-ish, not found, found-ish. Knowing the truest part of yourself while being honest that life keeps changing you, and there will always be a temptation to kind of contort yourself to the thing, the job, the relationship, the approval. The skill is noticing when you're doing it. And second, the phone psychic line. Not everyone is supposed to get you.

And the people who do not are not a problem to solve. They're an invitation to just let go and make room. And this week, maybe for you, notice one place where you're performing a version of yourself that doesn't quite fit. That noticing is enough. It's a great opening move. Just notice. And hey, before you leave, next week I'm doing a solo episode of something I've been sitting

with for a long time. this kind of hidden, silent resentment that so many people have carried around in their lives and why it might be one of the most honest things about them. If you think you are not carrying any of this, by the way, that's especially worth your time because you may discover something about the weight that you're carrying that has never been surfaced before. So be sure to follow Goodlight Project wherever you get your podcast so you don't miss that or any other episode.

And do me one quick personal favor. A second seven favor. Share this episode with just one person who you think might be carrying that particular egg of a life that just never quite fit. This episode of Good Life Project was produced by executive producers, Lindsay Fox and me, Jonathan Fields, editing help by Troy Young, Chris Carter crafted our theme music. And of course, if you have not already, follow us wherever you get your podcasts so you never miss a conversation. Until next time, I'm Jonathan Fields, signing off for Good Life Project.