Dispatches from La La Land

Is an essay on Substack a soft launch?

Excuse my silence, I’ve been falling in love. 

For the aforementioned reason, I haven’t been writing as much. I’ve been tiptoeing around, running my hands over the smooth cold glass of this emergent, magical thing. Is it real? Will I break it? 

Not only have I never felt love like this before, I’ve never let myself feel it. 

It’s easy for me to write about endings. Admittedly, I use sadness to get me writing, documenting the scorned and scorched earth. Here’s where I hurt. There’s where I hurt someone else. 

I’m more comfortable in longing than in love.

Before I left for Spain, my friend Sean told me that he’s excited for me to write about more than addiction and chasing men. It stuck with me. What else would I write about? 

To write about love, joy, friendships, coming to God, finding peace, felt immense. Intimidating. Nearly impossible. I didn’t want to admit I was afraid they could disappear.

Brené Brown says that there is no more vulnerable emotion than joy. I’ve felt this acutely. Not to be overly superstitious, but can you jinx love? If I talk about it, will it escape me? 

Can I enjoy it without destroying it? Can I let myself receive this? 

For years, I dated people who kept me at a distance. The question always was: can I win them over? I never asked: do I want to win this person over? Does this person make me feel good?

Sobriety ended that. Mostly because I was so sensitive, tired, and aware of my feelings that I could not endure feeling shitty about myself all the time. I could not keep chasing people and making myself small. I stopped dating.

But something else changed too. When I stopped drinking, I started praying. 

In the moment, I didn’t know that’s what I was doing. I had fallen out of faith for years and I did not see myself as religious. But the day after my last drink, I walked into a Brooklyn church.

Intuitively, I knew that I needed to remake my life in a big way. I also knew that what had gotten me into my current state (hyper-individualism, muscling through everything, worshiping achievement, etc.) would not get me out. It was not a one-person job. 

So I prayed. I called it manifesting at first, so afraid of saying anything that felt charged with religion. But whatever it was, it was surrender. An open hand. A request for help. Mend my life. Remake me.  

I prayed to heal. I prayed to put one foot after another. I prayed to let my life unfold without needing to know exactly how it was supposed to be. 

When I moved to Spain, I threw myself at the world. I furnished my apartment with a singular focus that could be called obsession. I went to workshops, astrology, tantra, ecstatic dance. My life opened up for me. I couldn’t help but know that God was moving in my life.

I heard once that when you’re getting sober, it’s a good idea to be single for that first year as you figure it out. For some reason this stuck with me. I love deadlines and timeframes. This sentiment comforted me. It took all the pressure off for me to date. In a year, I told myself, I’ll pick this up again. 

The months passed. My one-year sober anniversary approached. 

I began a new prayer. One I was afraid to say out loud. I prayed for a partner. I felt so much love in my life and so much love for myself, finally. I wanted to share it with another person. 

In my gut, I began to feel a shift. At dinner, I blurted it out to my friend Nora.

“Nora,” I said, “I have the sense that love is close. I think my dream partner is closer to me now than they’ve ever been before.”

My proclamation hung in the air. In a beat, we both laughed. Smiled, discussed it for a few moments more and then moved on. But the knowing stuck with me.

Maybe I’ll meet this person through my new friends, I thought. Or perhaps I’d run into them at an event. So I said yes to every invitation, to pizza restaurant openings and crypto conferences. I approached each new person with curiosity. Are you them? Are you for me? Am I for you? 

Two weeks before my sober anniversary, I met him.

I almost didn’t. I made a thousand and one excuses. I didn’t want to use the apps anymore. He didn’t live in Barcelona. I had a friend visiting when he was in town. I almost didn’t go. 

But I did.

He walked in. He had the kindest eyes. We said bye after our coffee and I didn’t think I’d see him again. We went for a walk the next day and I said goodbye again, thinking that was the end. He was lovely but he wasn’t local. 

The next week, he met me in Paris where I was speaking at a conference. The week following, he came to Barcelona. Then I went to Madrid. He met me on my work trip to Berlin. In two weeks, we’ll go to New York. 

I write about this because I don’t want to miss it. I don’t want to let my fear prevent me from breathing something good all the way in. Believing it. I don’t want to be afraid to accept love. To feel it and share it.

It’s clear to me now that I want to write about more than just endings. I want to talk about what comes after. When you quit the things that are not for you and create the space for what is.

I’d like to notice each moment as they happen, not needing to wait until something is certain to be able to celebrate. To enjoy being known and also the process of getting to be known. 

I want to celebrate how he brings me lemon water in the morning and reaches for my hand when we’re walking on the street. How often I see him looking at me, in the same moment that I go to look at him. I’d like to hold this moment, all of these moments, when the thing I dreamed of began to begin.   

These are the things I want to talk about. 

When I saw Nora last, she saw the gleam in my eye and she knew. 

“Sarah, Sarah, Sarah,” she cried. “Love is near!” 

Love is near, we howled. Like a prayer, like a promise. A rejoicing. Falling into each other, we collapsed in laughter. 

I had said it over and over, begging it to be true until I believed it might be. 

Love is near. Love is near. Love is near. 

I want to tell you. I’m not afraid anymore. 

It’s here. 

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quick hits

• Location / Time: 12:30am in Barcelona, Spain

• What I’m Eating: This absolutely delicious craft chocolate from London that my friend makes

• What I’m Listening To: Overplaying my fav song from Florence + The Machine’s new album

• What I’m Reading: The House of Rowdy magazine

• What I’m Celebrating: LOVE!!! (obviously) & so excited to see my parents and friends in NYC next month