I blame a lot of my childhood angst on the theory that I wasn’t meant for the ‘kid era’ of my life. Grandma-born, I never connected with the glory of youth and I’m grateful to say that my life, as I always expected it would, has only improved the older I’ve gotten.
And yet, I’m a wildly nostalgic person.
It’s what I write about most. Connecting feelings from my early days with reflections of my present. Memories flooding in all the time.
Last night, after working an event that ended late, I drove home in complete silence. Tires on the road, air conditioner blowing, the clicking of my turn signal every few minutes, I had a visceral flash of falling asleep in the back of my parent’s car. Desperate for deep slumber but still a little awake, aware of sounds and bumps in the road. Head bobbing, seatbelt choked, can’t get comfortable but also can’t open eyes. The feeling of pulling into the driveway, sensing the silence when the car turns off and dreading the long journey of dragging my tired child body, too big to be carried anymore, into the house and all the way to bed. “Noooooo, I wanna sleeeepppppp heeeeeere.”
I started writing this essay in my head in the midst of that recollection and then thought…
HERE SHE GOES AGAIN.
It’s not that I don’t love memoir. Of course I do, I’ve written upwards of 150 personal essays since August 21, 2023 when I committed to posting here weekly in order to overcome a belief that I couldn’t be consistent. Now, 99 chapters in, I’m not worried about that anymore.
But I am bored.

Though I despised school, the inflexible monotony of it, forced to sit for dragging hours staring out a classroom window, I also found summers, after the initial glimmer of “school’s out!!!” wore off, to be equally as boring. They were the days we’d do something different, walk the creek, make pinch pots from Georgia red clay, paint ceramics in my mother’s basement art studio, that time would suddenly fly and life would be SO FUN.
I’m an angular person when it comes to routine, very all or nothing, sharp 90° turns in and out of ‘what works for me.’ At least that’s how I’ve been up until now. With creative discipline has come freedom and a trust in myself that it’s okay to bend and curve, allow for the flow I write about so often.
I’m craving something different although I’m not really even sure what that means. When I’d whine to my mother over summer, “I’m borrreeeddddd,” she’d say, “find something to do then.” At this point I’ve found SO many things I want to do, I don’t have enough time to do them.
I’ve been beating myself up over the fact that my monthly video series has taken a three month break. Old insecurities are dying to tell me it’s because I’m lazy and inconsistent. Reality and new self-confidence remind me, I’m currently halfway through a very intense Human Design course, I’m taking on new and challenging work AND the videos and podcasts I want to create take time and consideration.
Plus, I’m bored with writing what feels like the same thing week after week. Recollect, epiphany, reflect, connect, reflect, reflect, metaphor, metaphor, metaphor. I’ve fallen into a groove and gotten very cozy. Half asleep, half awake, I don’t wannnnnnaaaaa get out of the car, just leave me here!
So I’m taking a summer break and curiously wondering what I will dig up. Quite possibly, nothing. I may come back in September eager to reflect on how sweating used to make me wildly upset and now makes me feel romantic, some metaphor for evolution. But also, maybe my mind will have the space to be infused with inspiration. I’d love to come up with a new posting schedule and some refreshed content. Maybe challenge myself to publish stories that feel a little scary to share? Maybe…
Mostly, I’m excited to indulge in an earned pause. When I started this journey almost two years ago, I fantasized about what it would feel like to know I “deserve” a break, one not laced with guilt and doubt but structured around the wisdom that I know it’s what’s needed. Time away will make room and I’m thrilled to find out for what.
One more summer essay next week all about what I’ve learned after publishing 100 times. And then, yes, the next installment of My Favorite Jeans, some podcasts and also, the completion of my Human Design school which will clear up SO much space in my week and allow me to expand my offerings. (More on this when the time comes.✨)
To me, growth includes knowing what I need and not being afraid of it. Trusting that great surprises come from risks taken. And although I feel bashful in thinking that my absence for a month and a half will matter to anyone, I am deeply aware and appreciative to those of you who read my work every week. (Especially to my Number 1 commenter and fan, my dad, Jethro Felton, always down in the comments with a song lyric to encompass the vibe of the week.❤️) It’s a wild connection that when I really tap into fills me with such whimsical magic, I could cry… and often do.
There’s no way around the fact that I will remain hopelessly nostalgic until I peak at 112, finally the old lady I was born to be. Maybe it’s not that youth was lost on me but that I was granted the capacity for collecting memories from the perspective of someone older even when I was younger. Able now to alchemize those moments into wisdom, pour them out onto a screen and share them with you. That’s my theory at least.
It’s been such a gift to discover my love of memoir through the discipline of reflecting here weekly and I can only feel exhilaration for what’s to come. It’s summer, school’s out!!! Let’s have fun.
WATCHING
We re-watched Dune 2 and then 1 (in that order, highly recommend if you’re a fan) and had such a blast we’ve been scream singing the Dune song at each other since.
READING
I finished the third book in the Crazy, Rich Asians trilogy by Kevin Kwan and had SUCH a good time. It got me back into the groove of reading, something I’ve been craving for years and I’m so happy it’s finally happened.
DOING
As I mentioned last week, I read Fast Like A Girl by Dr. Mindy Pelz and then fell deep into an Internet research hole on the topic. Fascinating. Totally resonates with me. I’ve been giving myself at least 12-13 hours (usually more depending on where I am in my cycle) between my last and first meals of the day and what a difference it makes. I’ve been in the habit of late night snacking (#restaurantlife never dies) and then eating first thing in the morning like so many health podcasts have told me to do and I just don’t think that felt right for me. Anyway, I’m planning to do an extended fast next month.
I hope you are having a lovely warm season if you’re in the Northern Hemisphere. Getting outside before it’s too hot, looking at lightning bugs as it cools off… if it ever cools off, which, in Georgia, it does not.
I’ll talk to you next week for my last post before my Summer Break!
Sending all my love and light to you, thank you for reading.
Well, that was beautifully said, especially that part about your old man! Immediately brought to mind a favorite song from my DeadHead days (which will probably never end, but since Jerry checked out in ‘95 it’s not quite same). The song - GDTRFB in Dead parlance but Woody Guthrie actually titled it ‘Going Down The Road Feeling Bad’ - is a real foot stomper and happier than the title might lead you to believe. I always wanted a GDTRFG license plate (last G for Good or Great depending on the day). Any way, here’s a couple of verses.
I'm going down this road feeling bad
I'm going down this road feeling bad
I'm going down this road feeling bad, bad, bad
And I ain't gonna be treated this way
I'm going where the water tastes like wine
I'm going where the water tastes like wine
I'm going where the water tastes like wine, wine, wine
And I ain't gonna be treated this way
See ya down the road, Boo…❤️
Wow. Well if bored get us this, then it has virtue! What a lovely read. Your work is so well crafted. I’m so proud of what it’s become. Beautifully written, Boo. Have yourself a fun summer and a well deserved break! ❤️🤸♀️