What would Beyonce do?

Plus relationship problems - and some of London's best coworking places

New Orleans, where Beyonce is playing the final gig of her Renaissance tour in September. Photo by Mitch Hodiono on Unsplash

Hello! And thank you for reading my list of ‘things I like’ today.

First of all, I have a question that I need your help with.

It’s about Beyonce, who is touring her Renaissance album at the moment (I tried and failed to get tickets to one of her London concerts last month).

On a whim, after some good news at work, I managed to buy a single ticket to the final date of the tour, on 27 September.

I love Renaissance for its joyfulness, its sampling of Donna Summer and its ownership of the c-word on Pure/Honey and I love Beyonce for her talent, her perfectionism, her worth ethic (watch her documentary Homecoming on Netflix to see what I mean), and her massive music knowledge and intelligence.

What’s the problem, then? Well, it’s not that I’d be going to the gig on my own - I’ve done stranger things - the small issue is that it’s is in New Orleans, Louisiana, and I’m wondering if I can justify going.

I haven’t yet booked flights or a hotel, and cost is obviously a big factor, and I also need to think about how long to go for, how I feel about travelling by myself (most of the time I love it when I do go away alone) plus I might be there for my birthday.

I get that this is a privileged ‘problem’ to have, and flying for 10 hours to go alone to a gig on another continent isn’t a thing many people would contemplate.

But I guess it’s one of the curious benefits of not having kids, of being 45 and at a point when doing something like this might be an option.

I said to a friend that this is a seminal moment in my life as well as Beyonce’s, and I was only half joking: I bought the concert ticket the day an article I wrote about how I found joy in life without children of my own was published in the Guardian, which was a pretty huge moment for me as a human as well as a journalist, and one I want to celebrate more.

But I have a nagging feeling of guilt, of ‘can I justify this?’ of ‘what if I’m lonely’ and ‘what if this trip doesn’t meet my expectations?’ but on the flipside I think that Renaissance and Beyonce and New Orleans is a cultural moment that will never come about again in the same way.

What would Beyonce do? What should I do? Any thoughts welcome!

Things I like

Coworking and community

I’ve got loads of work on at the moment, which is great, and I’m trying to carve out time to write creatively and put together ideas for this newsletter.

So, I’m grateful to my coworking place, Good Space in Queen’s Park, north London, for running a weekly Writers’ Club, held each Wednesday for an hour in real life.

Good Space really saved me at the end of the UK’s multiple lockdowns when I joined in April 2021 – since becoming a member I’ve made good local friends and no longer spend unwanted days working alone from my flat.

Good Space just turned three, and in the past couple of years, its founders David and Ashley Brown have opened work spaces in Chiswick and near Spitalfields market, both with the same community-focused, family-run feeling to them.

If you're struggling with working from home, is there a way you can be somewhere around other people? It doesn’t have to be a co-working office, places like The British Library are free to join and it has lots of rooms you can work from.

One tiny downside of being at Good Space is that there are so many people to chat to I can get distracted from my work … which is when I put my headphones in and listen to my disco/house/salsa/soul playlist that consists of stuff I’ve heard at Annie Mac’s Before Midnight club nights, things playing at the gym and music Spotify throws at me, such as Bessoka, a track by Harji Singh, a remixed version of Manu Dibango’s Besoka.

Manu was one of funk music’s founding people, and whose compositions were extensively sampled by the likes of Michael Jackson and Rihanna. Bessoka was released last month, and it’s funky and salsa-y and I want to hear it in the club!

Relationship problems

An interesting post from therapist Lori Gottlieb, who writes The Atlantic’s Dear Therapist column, popped up in my Instagram feed this week.

The question asked was: “How do I tell my friends I really don't want to hear about the problems they are having in their relationships? It is really hard for me to listen to them complain about their spouses or significant others when I am fighting hard to accept being single.

They assume that because things are going well in other aspects of my life, I am okay with my nonexistent romantic life, and therefore free to listen to them complain. I am not.”

You can read Lori’s full answer here, where she talks about the concept of ambiguous grief, a loss people can feel when they long for something they don’t have, such as a great partner, a feeling made more complex because it doesn’t have rituals in place that acknowledge that grief.

Lori also gives great advice for how to talk to friends when they complain about their relationships.

“Hello everyone!” he said. “My name is Yusuf.” Most people looked the other way, as is traditional in British public spaces when a stranger starts speaking.

I found this super interesting, because I do think there are good and bad ways for single people and attached people to talk about their experiences in relationships, whether they are dating or married (at one point I stopped talking about dating altogether, and wrote about it here), but I don’t feel the same way as the person who wrote to Lori.

I’m actually fascinated by people’s relationships and don’t mind if my friends confide in me.

Lori wrote the excellent Maybe You Should Talk to Someone: A therapist, her therapist and our lives revealed, a clever, compelling book that is page-turning because we are learning about real people’s lives (as well as our own).

The man at the station

And finally, I must tell you about Yusuf, a man in a yellow shirt at Willesden Junction station last weekend. The platform was packed with people waiting for a delayed train when he started speaking in a loud voice.

“Hello everyone!” he said. “My name is Yusuf.” Most people looked the other way, as is traditional in British public spaces when a stranger starts speaking.

“I have a speech impediment,” he continued. “It’s called a stutter,” he said a little falteringly, but still loudly. A few people looked at him.

“My speech therapist gave me some homework,” he said, and paused, looking at his phone and saying: “Is this recording?” in a quieter voice.

People took a bit more notice. “She said I must be brave and say something in public, so I am.” Lots of people started clapping and saying well done to Yusuf. It was a lovely moment.