It used to bother me when I’d see that someone unsubscribed to my e-mail list. Really bother me.

Especially when I knew the person…

I’d feel all tight, like, oh man, what did I do wrong?

You don’t like me anymore? Oh shit! How do I get you to like me again?

 

Did I say something offensive?

Did what I write not make sense?

Do I know what I am doing anymore…?

(And certainly all of these thoughts feel bad because they are so misguided.)

 

But that was then…

 

Now, I just create what I want to create. And I share what I want to share.

If you like what I create, super! Welcome to the party. The keg’s over by the picnic table. Cups are 2 bucks if you feel like contributing.

 

If you don’t like what I create, oh well… I don’t really, ummm, care. (This is doubly true for “helpful suggestions” I receive.)

 

Not caring feels too good, to free to ever go back. It’s worth noting that I’ve not cared for a while now, and nothing has fallen apart. That’s just a myth, albeit a powerful one.

So when I see someone unsubscribe now, there’s none of that tightness. Quite the opposite, in fact. I feel the expansion of relief. The feeling reminds me of my old bartending days when I’d kick a drunk person out of the bar.

I hope you had fun, but it’s time to go.

It’s better for both of us. What I have to offer is not going to make you feel good, so give that stool up for the next person who’s wanting to sit there.

Get home safe and be well.