I have 5 years to get my life together - here are 3 ways to do this.
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Intro: Must Be Nice
Life after 40 for a man = the sweet life. More (White/Caucasian) men over that age stay employed longer and get paid more by their bosses compared to literally everyone else. If they wanted to, they could do almost everything they want, be it retire early or fly into space.
I, on the other hand, need to get my life together in the next five years. Because life after 40 for a woman looks more like having nothing to live for.
Dramatic, but also true. I wake up every day worried I'll never amount to anything, especially as a Black woman.
There are exceptional exceptions to this rule. A 20-year-old slave girl published a book of poetry that went viral globally when social media would sound like science fiction. Beyonce released her first number-one album at 22 and became the most-awarded musician in history just in time for 40. Unlike them, most Black women’s personal and professional trajectories are stagnated.
Last year I learned taking control of your life is possible…to an extent. There are a handful of things you can do to get your act together through self-development, setting goals, and developing plans.
You know what the universe periodically says to that? Fuck your plans. (Pardon the strong language, the universe has no chill.)
At any moment pandemics, war, inflation, poor health, or just miserable people atomize those plans, barely leaving big enough pieces to pick back up and start again. Especially when you’re a Black woman, underpaid, overworked, and deprecated.
I want you—US—to fall out of this cycle. Unfortunately, the universe will always conspire against the least of us until power and privilege get boring for men (don’t hold your breath).
I discovered three tricks to get your life as close to where you want it to be in the next five years, despite what the devil throws your way.
“I call it the NotSorry Method. It has two steps: 1. Deciding what you don’t give a fuck about; 2. Not giving a fuck about those things.”
Step One: Care About Fewer Things
I mean this personally, professionally, and in the minutiae you don’t even realize you dwell over. Also, we have to be really clear that this looks different based on class, ethnicity, and geography.
Black women are not a monolith. We all have cares, but the cares we hoard vary. The way we care depends on who birthed us, who raised us, who educated us, and who befriended us.
In an altruistic yet farcical way, I wanted to carry every single care every Black woman has ever had. I wanted to rescue the Black woman living in rural, abject poverty. I wanted corporate Black women to rage against the capitalist machine. I wanted clique-ish Black women to learn how to genuinely love each other as sisters.
My cache is full. I caught myself holding on to all of the ways Black women are socialized to internalize these situations. I thought I’d publish a manifesto in a language we all could understand and execute in sync to achieve the diasporic utopia of my dreams. #FORMATION.
A hefty goal to carry over the next five years. It’ll only get heavier in the future, with digitized misogynoir, democratically elected fascists, and modern imperialistic agendas growing in size and weight. Which will crush lil old 120-lb me to bits.
So how do I decide what I don’t give a fuck about (anymore)? Using Step #2.
“You may not realize it, but the number of fucks you personally have to give is a finite and precious commodity.”
Step Two: Choose ONE Some-Day Goal
Do I want to be in a certain tax bracket?
Do I want to start a revolution?
Do I want 100% autonomy over when I wake up, and how I spend my day?
Am I okay with living in total isolation off the grid, or do I want to maximize my social network?
What am I okay with happening, someday in the future, preferably before I die?
Think about that, choose one, and only give a fuck about that. Well, that’s extreme—please maintain the basic cares of personal hygiene, physical and mental health, and money management so that, you know, you can survive. On a self-actualization level, though, find one thing and shut everything else DOWN.
With one, some-day goal, you’re focused. You have the destination. Now plug in the GPS and get going.
Whether this some-day goal is political, self-centered, or philanthropic, you need to remember three things:
The opps, for better or worse, are conspiring against you (see: Intro).
Are you ready to do anything in your power to fight these foes?
Per question #2, is it worth it?
One of the fucks I gave away is concern over other people’s ethics. I’m not omnipotent, omniscient, or rich enough to stop all the harm that will, regrettably, come to a community I love and belong to.
However, with a renewed sense of the one thing I CAN’T let go of, I’m willing to put all my psychic energy into accomplishing it. If you want to know what that is, subscribe to my YouTube channel and Substack newsletter to follow the journey.
“An Irish goodbye is when you leave a party or gathering without telling anyone. Highly recommended.”
Step Three: Burn Bridges
I had this epiphany while walking across the bike path that crosses the Hudson onto Randall’s Island. You get a different vibe going north, south, or east of that area in Harlem/the Upper East Side. I noticed which type of people felt most comfortable on either side of each demarcation.
And I quickly decided the ones I’d fuck with, and the ones I’d leave alone.
That’s my NYC metaphor to describe what I mean by “burning bridges”. I mean cutting off pathways that lead back to those who aren’t the best companions for the path you’re on for the next five years.
That doesn’t mean being hostile and purposely pissing people off as you move on. You don’t have to, but being honest with them about how your relationship (platonic, romantic, or professional) no longer fits with where you’re going is recommended.
This is my response to the maddening way I inserted myself into any and every networking opportunity last year. If I maximize the number of people in my network, I maximize my chances of scoring the goal, I thought.
Putting your limited eggs (e.g. fucks) into every basket you find is NOT as valuable as strategically placing them in the right baskets (one or two will do). Making a hard left back to the road/bridges metaphor—you will drive around in circles constantly missing your next turn if you don’t exit the roundabout and set fire to any path that’ll tempt you to turn right back to where you left.
Last year I crossed over into too many communities and friendships simply because I had a bridge (e.g. colleague, acquaintance) to lead me there. I wasted a lot of time and achieved nothing when I entered without clear intentions on what I cared about, and whether this group cared about it in the same way.
Black women deal with loneliness on levels higher than any other group, and I was living proof. Wanting to find and belong to a tribe led me to desperate decisions setting me so far back that I’m doing 100 on the highway to get my life back on track this year.
No more picking up hitchhikers (unless they can prove they’re going my way). No more pit stops on roads that crisscross and probably lead to dead ends.
If I’m lucky, all the things I do and say this year will scare off the wrong people crossing into my lane, and attract the right people that can’t resist the joy ride I’m on.