Holly's in awe of: early career fearlessness
On white lies told in childhood, creating the things you want and a lovely list of joys
There’s a freedom to being in your 20s, apparently — those older than me emphasise that these are the years to enjoy possibility, that it’s the time to try all the new things and be untethered and roam without a care.
Maybe it’s just the overthinker in me, but somewhat antithetically I feel a lot of pressure comes with that — there are suddenly a minute number of weeks where anything is possible, and before long I’ll lament the days I spent lounging in my joggers instead of seizing the day. I have moments when I feel I’ve really embraced that sentiment and created a formative memory, and others where I feel distinctly cog-in-the-machine-esque and wish I had got some fresh air.
But one line from this month’s Awe in Retrospect guest, Holly Beddingfield, brought me some comfort:
“I think I’ll look back at that drive to do something I care about with joy, perhaps reminding myself that I can still do such a thing. A classic lesson in creating the things you want and not waiting for someone to ask you.”
Because that idea, that once you hit a certain age or life phase you’re stuck in the template of life you designed for yourself years ago, is one we’ve just decided to make up, really. Who’s to say you can’t keep making and creating new opportunities and new experiences for yourself forever?
It’s so easy to wait to be rewarded with or offered the things you want after you’ve worked or wished hard enough for long enough. But ultimately, (and this is a lesson I hope I master one day), you do have to create those things yourself — and we deserve the space to do so.
So here’s to claiming that space more. Holly was my first ever big-girl-job-in-journalism boss and remains one of the coolest people I know. She now runs the newsletter Capsule at The News Movement, which always makes me feel trendier than I am.
Scroll to the end for perhaps my favourite list of joys I’ve had on this Substack so far 💛
What is your favourite/most formative childhood memory?
More formative than favourite, but as an adult I remember how prolific lying was in childhood.
One example was a friend I had in primary school who broke her arm. She explicitly told me one day that it had stopped hurting and was almost better, but the cast had to stay on a while longer. When her dad let her down later that week, she screamed, crying that her arm was in a lot of pain. She felt like she needed to use the “real” pain of a broken arm to justify her (equally real) pain of being hurt by her dad. I think about that a lot!
Another one, a girl at school told us she had a boyfriend who no one had ever met, and who she later said got cancer and died. Of course, the guy never existed, but she needed someone to talk about, attach desires to, to mourn. Kids have many ways of telling you how they feel, but I’d not thought about this stuff in that way before becoming an adult myself.
It’s also something that still comes up — think about the white lies you tell to make excuses rather than just saying you don’t want to do something. We can learn a lot by interrogating our desire to lie!
Tell me about a moment, opportunity or everyday experience that you’ve had as an adult that made you think “wow, a younger Holly would think this was so cool”
Going to fashion week for sure! Or going to New York for work. I was a kid who loved magazines and American reality TV shows (The Hills, The City) and I made a note in year 6 that I wanted to be a fashion journalist. I remind myself a lot that I’m close to doing what 11-year-old me dreamed of.
What’s one thing in your life right now that you hope an older version of yourself will look back on fondly? What do you think it’ll mean to you in 10 years?
This is a tricky one! Maybe some early career fearlessness? I was a co-founder of a media company (The Know) in my early twenties and had a major learning curve, and in my current role, I pitched to start a project I wanted to run, which is now a significant portion of my job (my newsletter, Capsule).
Both of these things came from an urge to do something I wasn’t already or that didn’t exist, and I think I’ll look back at that drive to do something I care about with joy, perhaps reminding myself that I can still do such a thing. A classic lesson in creating the things you want and not waiting for someone to ask you.
💚 Holly’s joys in the present: The first brew of the day in bed; driving without being in a rush; shopping in a quiet mall on a Friday night; getting to know local people; helping someone choose an outfit or a gift; the way life feels when you’re in the final third of a good novel; belly laughing with best friends; finding a niche shared interest with a colleague; texting my brother but never saying hey how are you; dropping by friends houses for a brew; getting a few new pieces of clothing at the turn of a new season; post-war modernist homes; mid-size gigs for a band after a perfect album; Hayley Williams’s stage presence; the way my boyfriend makes surprise plans; vanilla matcha; lychee cocktails; Chinese food once a quarter; the first glance of a beach through some trees; how it feels to float on your back when everything goes quiet; the way my mum calls me darling; getting up and dressed and out for nice daytime plans; the way my dad believes I can do anything but that being a good person matters the most; Saturday mornings with my best friend; rings; trying new food on holiday; nicknames.
💚 Sadia’s joys in the present: taking photos with the intention of painting them later; cold days with blue skies; the final Bad Form Review issue; being on stage and feeling less nervous than last time; baking birthday cakes; finding a new jumper to over-wear; when your colleagues become actual friends outside of work; making savoury pies from scratch as soon as autumn kicks in; learning how to use hair rollers, finally; making chai lattes at home; burning brownies but making truffles instead of being sad; baby clothes shopping for your friends.