The Fallacy of Traditional Fairy Tales
On embracing the mess of what's in front of us and finally writing our own
Hello beautiful human,
Last night was Dave's and my ten-year anniversary. He swept me off to Hen of The Wood in Waterbury, a restaurant that rightfully earns its need for a reservation made three months in advance so here I am – late sending out this newsletter.
The entire evening caught me by surprise. What he told me was going to be a casual date night at our local inn quickly turned into something out of a romantic comedy. We arrived to the waitstaff wishing us a happy anniversary before being ushered to a table lit with candles and a card signed by the chef.
The whole night felt surreal — much like my life these days. It was full of hilarious conversation about our first dates and their many unsaid truths. Of course, the evening was also full of kind waitstaff and all the delicious food we could fit into our bellies.
While most people think our love story was a traditional fairy tale — a singular hardship, a Prince Charming coming to my rescue, and a beautiful resolution — it was actually not like that. It was not like that at all. We both struggled deeply with our mental health throughout our early days together. As Dave shared beautifully in a vulnerable podcast episode last year, he too lives with mental illness, and the result of navigating both our illnesses proved relentlessly challenging over the years. Our relationship from its inception was messy and hard — so messy and so hard, in fact, that multiple times it neared implosion.
But, as hard as our relationship was at times and sometimes still is, that makes it better. That makes it better because it makes it real. And today, for this week’s nourish section, I am going to share a glimpse into our beginnings, our awkward meet-cutes, and messy near-misses because the only way we will ever find our people and enjoy recovery is if we get out of our way and embrace the mess and hardship that goes hand in hand with the joys of life.
Yes, the only way we will ever find our people is if we realize the truth that love of any kind is a fairy tale — and the mess and the hardship of a human relationship is guaranteed. And if we embrace it — yes, oh if we embrace it — we have the chance to cultivate real fairy tales far more often.
In case you missed it
There is a new podcast episode free for everyone about my mental illness story. If you are new to this space, it is a perfect introduction to who I am and most notably, how I became her.
NOURISH
Dave and my relationship started with a game night that was hosted by an old friend from high school. My friend had welcomed me into her social group once she learned of my disability and challenges. This period was at the very beginning of my re-entry into the social world. Everything about people and gatherings still terrified me at that time, especially since I barely had a job or any lived experience outside of my illness to speak about in conversation. My research assistant job was for 2 hours, four times a week, and the rest of my life was devoted to exposure therapy — hardly fodder for lighthearted or casual chit-chat.
On top of feeling like I had nothing to talk about, my body responded to fear in the most inconvenient way – incontinence. So the night we met, I wore these cuties…
… beneath black leggings and a flowy peasant dress, my go-to attire back then.
I remember the exact moment Dave walked in. I was in the middle of a conversation in the kitchen, trying desperately to stand correctly, hold my posture appropriately, and hear the words coming out of some stranger’s mouth without looking/being/standing or existing “wrong” the way my anxiety forever made me feel that I was doing back then.
He walked in with a gentle smile and a twinkle in his eyes. He was wearing a gray fleece from LL Bean, one he still wears to this very day, and I marveled at the choice – humble, functional, and entirely unlike the latest Arcteryx or Patagonia jacket that most of the town flaunted in winter. We caught each other’s eyes for a second and instead of ducking his gaze in fear, I bravely held it for an extra moment or two and swam in its inherent kindness. I lost myself in his kind eyes entirely for that moment and my anxious monologue of self-hatred and doubt disappeared for that brief second offering a momentary respite – a respite I would seek and find for years to come.
By a stroke of luck, we played charades that night, a game I could enjoy because of its emphasis on being someone you were not. I spent the night disappearing into characters that were not hallucinating, disabled, or defecating daily in diapers. This allowed me to be loud and colorful – far more akin to the human I grew into over the past decade instead of the quiet and demure person I was at the time.
We parted that night after barely speaking two words to each other but I obsessed over him in my journal that night and wrote endlessly about getting lost in those eyes – “those kind eyes!!!” With the help of a mutual acquaintance who was also in attendance at game night, he found me at the squash courts the next week. Thereafter, we proceeded to spend the next five nights together, each throwing ourselves into things that terrified us just for a chance to stay close to each other.
We went to dinner with a mutual friend and I ate food at a restaurant – something I had not done in two years due to my orthorexia and OCD food rituals. Not only did this result in my anxious incontinence, it also induced quasi food-poisoning since I had not had greasy food or dairy in two years. I spent the entire night running to the bathroom every five or ten minutes and was totally freaking out that I was making a horrible impression. Looking back at the evening, it was hilarious, but at the time it felt like a true doomsday apocalypse I would never recover from.
Fortunately, Dave did not see my many trips to the bathroom as an issue. Instead, he saw them as an opportunity to manage his anxiety and muster the courage to ask me out. After my fifteenth time in the bathroom (yup, I kept track and wrote it in my journal that night lol), our mutual friend ducked out and Dave took his chance. He asked me out for another game of squash and dinner thereafter.
Even though I had not gone out with someone in five years and had only just started leaving the house to do social things two weeks earlier, I agreed to go on a date with him. Our first date went as well as we could have hoped. I only had a few hallucinations and we talked extensively about his environmental science research, a language I fortunately spoke well after studying it in high school and college.
The next night, Dave joined me at a rom-com movie night knowingly exposing himself to his least favorite film type to keep our connection going. While in any other context, he would have left a rom-com movie night immediately (it happens regularly in our house), he opted to tolerate its sanguine effect and stay for the opportunity to stay connected. I didn’t have any idea of how much he disliked it and his feigned enthusiasm of the movie was something I chalked up to be further evidence that he was my person.
His commitment to rom coms and our growing romance enticed me to agree to ski the next day with him and his friends even though I was absolutely exhausted from multiple social events back to back. Dave meanwhile, was also exhausted, but he threw himself into a ski day even though he had only skied twice before. Rocking carharts and that classic LL bean, he threw himself down blues and black diamonds. Only years later did I learn that he was absolutely terrified all day long and was convinced he was going to die in the process of skiing with me.
After skiing, he invited me to a potluck dinner party. I was bone tired at this point but so determined to make a lasting good impression, that I agreed. I went home and drank three pots of coffee (no joke) before being picked up by him and his friend. The three of us went to a potluck dinner party at one of his friends’ houses, people that I had never met, which turned into a music jam night. I had only just started social anxiety exposures two weeks prior, so this was not what I was used to at all. I went through five pairs of diapers that night and mostly sat with the dog in the corner but afterwards, convinced that five nights in a row and sitting in a corner near his friends counted as us being “oh-so together,” ended the night by asking him… “Did I pass?”
I remember this moment so well. We were lying in bed, pillow talking, and I was so consumed with the fear that his friends didn’t like me and we were thus doomed, that I spouted out this question mid-conversation about dogs. His eyes twinkled brightly and he laughed a full belly laugh at my awkward and messy interruption before pulling me into his chest and hugging me close. I lost myself within his embrace that night and he never answered me but after sweeping me off to a surprise ten year anniversary dinner this week, I think it’s finally safe to say that I did. I passed, so to speak. I fit within his world and belonged with his people. And I did so not because I did it perfectly right or said the exact endearing thing at each moment.
No, I “passed” because he made a choice to love me through my seasons and I made a choice to love him through his. And that – that embrace of the mess and the awkward – that decision to go beyond comfort in pursuit of joy – that is how we made it a real fairy tale.
And with that, I wish you the power to see your own magic amidst the mess this week. And if you can’t, I’m here to do it for you until you can. For just as Dave found my magic before I could, I am here to find yours before you can too.
With so much love.
Kindly,
Kate
NORMALIZE
If you would like to submit a solidarity story of your own, you can do so here.
THE NUDGE
This week’s nudge: Test out cold water therapy.
Whether by dipping your face in a bucket of ice water or going all in with a plunge in an ice-filled bathtub or snow covered pond outside, try exposing yourself to cold water daily over the course of the coming week. Start with twenty seconds and slowly work your way up to a minute or two.
Cold water immersion therapy can have profound effects on nervous system regulation by way of the mammalian diving reflex.
The mammalian diving reflex is a set of physiological responses that occur in mammals, including humans, when the face is exposed to cold water. This reflex is an evolutionary adaptation designed to enhance survival during periods of cold water immersion that activates the parasympathetic nervous system.
For anxious individuals who struggle to regulate their own nervous system, the diving reflex offers a profound way to train neural pathways to tap into the parasympathetic nervous system more readily.
A massive skeptic of plunging at first, I set out to prove the fad ineffective last April by plunging for 30 days straight. By day 10, not only had my dissociations decreased exponentially but also friends, family and colleagues noted a powerful change in my affect. I was more mindful and far less reactive than I had been prior to April. By the end of 30 days straight, I had stopped having night terrors and fugue states entirely. Suffice to say, I did not prove the influencers spamming my feed with icey plunges wrong. Instead, I became one of them and although I’m not spam you all with it regularly, it is still a practice I swear by to this day.
In fact, I am so obsessed, I have found a free cast iron tub that I will be converting into my permanent plunge pool. Classically, I am forcing my friends to come help me move the beast. Thankfully, they’re in for things like this, especially since I’m paying them in burgers and a far more regulated existence that they too will benefit from.
Here’s hoping it’ll be up and running by the time I drop into your inbox next week.
With that, I leave you this week’s question —
If you could only have one season every year, which would you choose and why?
I have thought about this all week and still cannot decide so I’m looking foward to reading your responses.
And now, I wish you a day and the kindness to know that however you get through it, it is always enough.
Kindly,
Kate
Probably Anxious is an entirely reader-supported publication. Being a paid subscriber makes my work possible and allows me to maintain the integrity of this space with no ads. I am deeply grateful for your support. If you are able, please consider becoming a paid subscriber today.
A paid subscription costs $6 a month or $60 a year.
Paid Subscriber Benefits Include:
Access to The Patient is In — a podcast exploring serious mental illness through the lens of those affected. Each episode includes an interview with someone touched personally by my lived experience of mental illness and explores it through their perspective. You can listen to the most recent episode where I share my full mental illness story here.
Access to Curiosity with Kate — This is a short-form podcast format where I answer your questions about navigating life with serious mental illness. Each episode is 5-10 minutes in length and at a minimum, I release one episode a month. If you have a question you would like answered, include it in an email to hi@katespeer.com.
Podcast Transcriptions/Guides
To better support all learning styles, this is a new addition for 2024. There will be a transcription of each podcast made available so you can read the podcast conversations if you are interested and accompanying guides that highlight key takeaways and answers to your questions.
The Final Chapters of my inaugural memoir, Maura + Me
To preserve my own well-being, the remaining chapters will be delivered at whatever cadence my mental health allows. Last year, I wrote 28 chapters and shared them weekly with you all in installments. Though I am so proud that I was able to tackle almost my entire book in that manner, that cadence is no longer sustainable so I appreciate your patience as I find a pace that is a bit more manageable. If you are interested in reading the earlier chapters, you can find all of them here.
I love this and needed this reminder as I head into being a mom, and I just know it will be messy and so much, and finding a way to have time to still be partners with my husband during this transition: "I wish you the power to see your own magic amidst the mess this week", this is what I need every week.
Also fall, because I get to see my students again, I get to see the colors change and I feel the most comfortable in my body 💜💜💜
It’s spring for me - spring brings me such a sense of renewal, awakening and the reminder of how much color brightens my mood and regulates me!
This also might be the real nudge I need to truly give cold exposure a go!