Welcome (again!) to The Honesty Box

And - how I found joy in life without children of my own (in the Guardian this week)

Me on a beach in Mallorca, during a cat-sitting trip to the island last month.

Hello! And thank you so much if you’ve signed up to The Honesty Box from an article I wrote for the Guardian this week (of which more later). There are lots of you, and you’re in good company.

Welcome! It’s great to have you here.

I thought it might be useful to introduce myself and The Honesty Box a little (if you’ve been reading this for a while, I hope you’ll forgive this re-introduction).

I’m Lucy, I’m 45, I live in London, UK, and my life is unconventional in lots of ways - and it’s one I’m now starting to love and embrace.

I started this as a fortnightly newsletter about life’s ups, downs and everything in between.

As the UK emerged from lockdown in summer 2021, I wanted to explore how I was feeling by writing it down, with the idea that if I was open about some of my experiences, others might feel heard too.

It was rather an experiment, and here we are now, about 50 newsletters later, and I’m finding my voice (you can see all my posts here).

I make a living as a journalist and writer, covering everything from sustainability to the stock market, so this kind of personal writing was relatively new to me – I had contributed a couple of more personal pieces to magazines but hadn’t fully tried memoir-type writing.

I was nervous: how would I feel if my business magazine editor clients or company executives read this newsletter?

People in corporate life talk about bringing your ‘whole self to work,’ but what does that mean when you’re self-employed and your side-hustle is a very different vibe to your day job? (If you know the answer, do share!)

During lockdown, I attended online workshops with titles such as ‘Write about your life,’ and sought inspiration from Instagram posts saying things like ‘Show up before you’re ready.’

I tinkered with different platforms, before landing on Substack. Then, I wrote my first post.

Life can be full, purposeful and joyful however you find yourself living it.

Two weeks later, I wrote my second, about fitting in versus belonging, after I’d spent an afternoon in a park with my dearest university friends and their kids, and how I felt about being there without a partner or children.

I’ve written about lots of other life, career and relationship stuff: about the time I got fired, about travelling alone, and why I’m rebranding overthinking as ‘deep curiosity’.

I also love to look at the lighter sides of life: My night with Ryan Gosling being an example, and All the random things I carry around (I nearly took a kingsize duvet cover to tea at a palace) as well as All the weird people on holiday, after a few days’ people watching on the beach.

Life without kids

A few months ago, I wrote a piece here about finding joy in life without having children (when I always thought I’d become a mother). I’d just returned from a trip to Vietnam and was feeling high from the freedom I felt.

After I posted it, I felt ready to write about the subject in the wider world. I pitched an idea to the Guardian and was commissioned by its head of narrative in the US (that makes it sound simple – but believe me, pitching can be a struggle).

“I want to still have a sharp pen and a thin skin and an open heart” - Taylor Swift.

My piece, titled ‘How I found joy in life without children of my own,’ was published by the Guardian this week, and you can read it here.

I don’t have all the answers, but I do know that life can be full, purposeful and joyful however you find yourself living it.

I linked to The Honesty Box at the end, and lots of you signed up, which is awesome. Lots of people sent messages, too. It was so exciting to see all the subscriber notifications coming in, and I hope you like what you read here.

Why The Honesty Box?

I called this newsletter The Honesty Box because it reminds me of childhood holidays in Cornwall, where countryside carparks on green coastal slopes had wooden boxes for drivers to drop in a few coins, a donation that might go to the local church or village hall.

Honesty boxes simply represent trust and generosity. With this newsletter, instead of putting coins into a box, I’m dropping my thoughts here and finding my own voice. In doing so, I hope others will feel heard too.

Some news:

I’m going weekly!

You may know I’ve decided to write this newsletter weekly instead of fortnightly.

The idea is that each fortnight, you’ll get the regular newsletter, and then during the weeks in between I’ll send a short list of ‘things I like,’ which is a collection of stuff I’ve read, things I’m trying out, and any other mini updates.

We’ll see how it goes – this post was meant to be a ‘things I like’ one, but it’s turned into a longer ramble because of having lots of new people here who I wanted to say hi to and explain a little about the newsletter.

I do have some things to share, so here goes.

Things I like

In praise of thin skins

I didn’t know a lot about Taylor Swift aside from loving her song Shake It Off, so am verrrry late to the party in terms of watching Miss Americana, a documentary about her life, which was made in 2020.

It shows how she went from always being ‘good,’ and doing what she thought other people wanted, to not being afraid to be herself, to say what she thought politically, and feel more fully expressed.

As a sensitive soul, I loved what she says at the end: “I want to still have a sharp pen and a thin skin and an open heart.”

Being thin-skinned can mean feeling everything very deeply, but, like Taylor, I wouldn’t trade it.

Salt and sharing

I read productivity guru James Clear’s newsletter, 3-2-1 Thursday, in which he provides ‘3 ideas, 2 quotes, and 1 question to consider,’ a clever format for an email because it’s so short and digestible (you can read it here and sign up here).

Here’s something I loved from the other week:

‘A short lesson about kindness and generosity:

"I heard my mom asking our neighbor for some salt. We had salt at home so I asked her why she was asking.

She told me, ‘They don't have much money and they sometimes ask us for things. So I asked for something small that wouldn't burden them. I want them to feel as if we needed them too. That way, it will be much easier for them to ask us for anything they need.’”