"...but what would people say?" had the opposite effect it's supposed to.
Fuckit energy was best selling product of the year.
"Please write your final piece of the year on 'fuckit energy'", said a dear friend who'd become of a fan of my explanation of the term I'd been selling all year. Alright then. Even though I'm still figuring out the exact ingredients of this magic recipe, challenge accepted.
I was at an outdoor museum in a national park - the largest collections of Van Gogh's work outside of Amsterdam and a kid was lying down, belly up, limbs sprawled out, on one of those art gallery benches. The ones set at an ideal distance from the portrait, perfectly portioned for a solo viewer and a bit too cosy for two. The kid was scrunching their eyes and having a stretch, occasionally moving their head from side to side with a yawn, semi-gazing at paintings humans travel thousands of miles to admire. That kid, in that moment, summed up my energy of a last few seasons.
Typically, whenever something scary (the non life-threatening kind of scary) comes up, whether it's saying or doing something, what was almost always part of the resistance was a voice inside my head (or a voice from someone else) sharing some iteration of "....but what would people say?". The phrase that gives me the ick.
I'm certainly not alone in this. Being part of the generation that has lived with and without the internet, I've often thought about whether social media has magnified this phenomenon and I consistently return to the same conclusion: no. Humans are community-driven, social animals. So at one point, a village elder's approval was worth the modern day equivalent of one million likes.
Over the summer, I was helping a friend negotiate a salary raise with a conversation-avoidant boss. I helped them craft some language and scenario prepared them with responses. After the initial gasp of "whoa, can I really write that?", my casual response was "Fuck it, what's the worse that can happen - you can't get fired for rationally requesting for a raise. All your peers might think this is a bad idea, yes, but there's a huge group of people out there who think this is a great idea. You can't shake things up by staying in the same circle all the time".
My friend got the raise and later asked me what that fuckit energy chat was about. "If I could bottle it, label it and hand it out to anyone that needed it, I would". Why? Because it feels really good to share the wealth when you're so wealthy. Operating from a place of true freedom, of pure agency, is a richness of life I'm starting to dip my toes in. In some ways, I feel the wealthiest I've ever been. My shoulders are a bit higher, without regularly sharing wins or milestone on social media. I've enjoyed reflecting on highlights and lowlights in cosy conversations over flaky croissants or sending voice notes half way across the world whilst lying on my couch.
Something clicked when I was relaying some of my recent fuckit energy moments of the year to a childhood friend. I realised for every person whose reaction would be "what do you think you are doing?!", there's another person, maybe who I haven't even met yet, who would say "I think that's awesome". Historically, I hadn't been looking in the right place for the support I needed.
Walk away from a job many would consider a dream role? Fuck it, it can be someone else's dream.
Dive into a new profession that receives eye rolls? Fuck it, I enjoy it and my clients tell me it's impactful work.
Remove unhealthy relationships that are filled with suspicion or envy? Fuck it, I'd rather spend that time on more meaningful and honest connections that celebrate.
Life is way too short. So when I'm at a crossroads, or a decision is coming up, I now try my best to channel this fuckit energy. I ask myself the question about whether a desire is really coming from me and if it's not, what, or who, is influencing it.
I'm not planning a list of things that went well this year or writing out my goals for next. The roads I've paved for myself recently don't have all the bricks laid out or a specific destination in mind, yet. I have a rough direction and that makes me feel comfortable enough to keep going.
This is the closest I'll get to that is writing a year-in-review. I've written seven things in eight weeks (because I chose to spend the that last week of the year laptop-free with loved ones), with help. Help I'm proud of receiving. From my friends, family, therapist, coach and writing mentor. That's an achievement, so if I don't have a list of resolutions, fuck it.
What I am committing myself to is continuing to share anecdotes that will provide context and insight into how this fuckit energy came to be, so that I can continue to harness it, and others can too. Thanks to everyone who's helped me get this far. I'll continue to share the wealth.
p.s. to the friend that asked me to write my final piece of the year on my "fuckit energy", I switched it to my first piece of the year, because, fuck it.