Hey friend,
It’s 6:30pm when I’m writing this, still light out, and I feel notably more ALIVE than I did two days ago at this time. Thank god for daylight savings!
Here’s what I’m thinking about today.
No perfectionist likes to hear “try to be kind to yourself” or “give yourself grace!”
I’m my own worst critic and want to keep it that way, thank you very much 💁♀️
No but for real… why does this advice feel so unattainable for so many of us? It’s such easy advice to give to others, but so much harder to take in ourselves. Of course, I genuinely appreciate the sentiment of a close friend reminding me to slow the fuck down…
So I say, “I know, I really should be kinder to myself, you’re right.” Tears filling my eyes. Meaning every word.
Then, I proceed to jump right back on the go-go-go, put-high-expectations-on-myself treadmill!!! 🙃
That said, I think I’ve found a way to translate this advice into something less scary and more palatable for me. The solution has been intuitive and, really, it’s been my go-to since I was a kid.
Whenever the “be kind to yourself” suggestion creeps in, it means I need to create.
Full stop.
I need to, quite literally, run to an instrument and fool around. By fooling around, I mean improvise. More specifically sing and play at the same time for about 30 seconds. More often than not, these 30 seconds lead to 30 more seconds of fooling around. Now I’ve started something! Soon, I’ve reached 30 minutes of fooling around, which leads to 30 more minutes of fooling around. Well, now I no longer feel like I’m fooling around…
I’ve CREATED something!
When everything feels out of my control— falling into old patterns, stuck in a doom-scroll, worrying about the future, being too hard on myself— I show myself kindness by creating something new. By turning all that negativity into something meaningful. By rummaging through my brain, heart, and guts *with no specific direction or expectation* and picking out parts that seem necessary to explore.
To bring myself out of the chaos and into a more zen place, I have to feel all my feelings. And that’s what happens when I create.
Once a single tear lands on my instrument, I know my song is headed in the right direction 😉
Since letting “Little Lolita” out into the world, a lot of folks have asked me how it feels to be so vulnerable and share something so personal. They assume it must be scary. But the truth is…
Most of my fear was let out during the process of writing the song itself.
I didn’t write Little Lolita in my junior year of high school while trapped in a lonely online universe; I wrote it at age 29, when I was ready. Or more accurately, when the SONG told me it was ready. I’m not sure I, Sofie, would ever be ready to write this song. Nevertheless, the song itself nagged at me until I had no other choice but to write it.
Here’s “Little Lolita,” played at an open mic a few weeks ago (on guitar this time!) how it was originally written. I even resorted to singing an earlier draft of the second line by mistake “Nobody told me to clean my room.” I changed it after my many rewrites, landing on “Kept the door locked; stayed in my room” as you heard in the marimba version. I felt this lyric set up the world of the story better, but when the original line keeps getting stuck in my head, it’s usually trying to tell me something…
Which lyric do you like better?
Also, I’m interested to hear your thoughts on the solo guitar version compared to the marimba version! Chat with me by replying to this email or DM’ing me on Substack (a new feature). If you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading a bit about my process ♥️
Much love,
Sof
Thanks so much for the insight into what drives you. 'Nobody told me to clean my room' is genius but I can't 100% advocate for removing 'Kept the door locked; stayed in my room' although I'm ALMOST inclined to.... That's tough! Maybe just re-record it as the guitar version with the original lyric since you already have the other version from Tiny Desk?