Book Concept
Note: This is my 1st ever attempt at writing a fictional book. My plan is to get the basics figured out, then come back and add more details and dialog. For now this is just a shitty first draft I am working on - not a finished version. I doubt that anyone will read it - this is a project just for me!
This novel follows Lila Harmon, a 44-year-old neurodivergent female engineer living in a mid-sized Midwest city. Scarred by a toxic upbringing and chronic loneliness, Lila struggles to find her place in the world. Her journey unfolds in three acts, each deepening her self-discovery, healing, and gradual movement toward happiness. Through therapy, self-help practices, and drawing inspiration from popular romance novels, Lila learns to overcome her insecurities and build meaningful relationships. The story is empathetic, inspirational, and highlights the transformative power of vulnerability, connection, and self-acceptance.
Key Points of Protagonist’s Journey
Facing and understanding the roots of her insecurity
Using cognitive behavioral techniques and mindfulness to manage anxiety
Seeking therapy and exploring different modalities
Finding inspiration and comfort in romance novels
Building friendships and a budding romance through shared interests
Letting go of the past, redefining her self-worth, and embracing happiness
Introduction
Setting: A Midwest city with restaurants, bars, and a thriving art scene.
Protagonist’s background: Childhood trauma, current isolation, daily engineering work, desire to find more – dreams of being an artist
Initial state: Lila's struggle with self-doubt and loneliness
Resolution
By the end of her journey, Lila has developed new friendships, grown into a loving relationship, and learned to value herself. She embraces happiness, not as a destination but as a daily practice. The novel closes with Lila hopeful for the future, embodying the lessons of vulnerability, connection, and self-acceptance.
Growth Techniques Referenced
Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT): Challenging negative thoughts and building resilience
Mindfulness Meditation: Grounding herself in the present moment
Journaling: Processing emotions and tracking progress
Book Club Participation: Building social connections through shared interests
Creative Hobbies: Uncovering new passions and self-expression
Impact of Romance Novels
Lila often turns to popular romance novels for comfort and inspiration. Stories like The Kiss Quotient provide representation of neurodivergent protagonists, while XYZ explores overcoming the effects of toxic relationships. These novels help Lila envision her own growth and empower her to believe in the possibility of love and happiness.
Lila Harmon
44 year old single female with no kids. She has never been married and several relationships, but the longest lasting just under one year.
Occupation: Industrial Engineer. She has a stable job that pays decent, but there is something form her life missing.
Traits: Analytical, introverted, creative, loyal, struggles with social cues and sensory sensitivities
Backstory: Grew up with emotionally distant parents and a critical mother; developed a fear of rejection and a deep sense of loneliness
Growth Techniques: Journaling, cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT), mindfulness meditation, reading romance novels, creative problem-solving, joining interest-based clubs, and exploring her creative side creating Art
Main Characters
The Book Club:
Hannah: Loves romance novels, helps Lila open up socially as an outgoing social extrovert. Invites her to try new things.
Josie: Being neurodivergent she has similar struggles, becomes a close confidant. Helps Lila realize that she is not broken -her brain is just different.
Olivia: Divorced, single mom of a teen leaving for college so alone for the first time in years…
Marcus: Gay, Pediatrician who is a hopeless romantic.
Alex TBD (Friend turned Love Interest): works in the evening as a bartender. Encouraging, skilled metal artist, potential romantic interest. Pushes protagonist out of her comfort zone, offers emotional and practical support.
Morgan TBD (Coworker): Colleague at engineering job, unexpectedly supportive. Observant, thoughtful, bridges gap between protagonist’s work and art worlds. Helps protagonist see value in both careers, offers workplace support for her artistic pursuits.
Alice TBD (Coworker): Colleague who doesn’t understand Lila or her differences. (Charlie & Drew are names of male colleges - no major role)
Luke TBD (Friend who she has a Crush on): A friend of Lila’s who she has a crush on, but these feeling are not reciprocated causing some strain in the relationship.
Mother (Antagonist): Protagonist’s estranged mother, source of past trauma. Critical, controlling, emotionally distant. Appears in flashbacks and a pivotal confrontation, representing the internalized negativity the protagonist must overcome.
Other Characters
TBD
Book Outline
Act I: Setup - Isolation and Awakening
An Ordinary Day
Introduction of Lila’s daily life. How she wakes up in her quiet house to go to work with a routine day. The hints that she wishes for something more.
As she goes home, it shows how she is living a solitary life and longing for connections with others.
Echoes of the Past
Flashbacks to criticism, discouragement and a toxic upbringing - especially from her mother. We hear her mother’s harsh words about not being “feminine enough” or “good enough.” She has not fit in with her family and has cut off contact.
We also will delve into her internal dialogue—how she sees herself and the internalized negativity, the roots of her self-doubt, and the impact on her confidence.
The Unspoken Rules
There are Challenges at work as a neurodivergent woman since the standards are different for men vs women.
Highlight interactions with coworkers that reinforce societal standards and her insecurities.
Inspired by Art
It is the weekend, decided to try something new and attends a local art show alone, feeling both inspired by the art and intimidated by the confident artists.
Loving created art but has been struggling with inspiration. Too scared to exhibit or sell her art from when here mom told her - “who would buy anything from you?”
A Lonely Canvas
At home she attempts to finished one of her projects, but all the flaws made her doubt her ability. Who would want any of these pieces?
The looking at the chaos, which provided more anxiety and why she can’t finish the existing projects or start any of her ideas.
Romance Escapes
Coming home and retreating to books to escape reality – hoping to find some hope in a favorite romance novel.
Wishing that her life could be like a book, that friends, love, and finding a greater purpose would happen.
Depressed, since the reality of our world is it is unlikely I will find this, since I am different.
Seeds of Change
What if - she decides that something has to change and she decides to go on her own hero’s journey?
Time for a plan: She starts to journal as recommended to explore her emotions.
The Book Club
Lila decided to join an organization. She found a romance book club held at a local bar the 1st & 3rd Wednesday, with the next meeting being next week, plenty of time to read the book.
This anxiety is causing the voices of her family and past bullies come into her head.
Unspoken Connections
She attends the group, facing her social anxiety. She introduces herself and quietly listening to the others talk and does talk about the book a bit. They had read “The Friend Zone” by Abby Jimenez.
She gets to know the main members and receives a a warm welcoming, putting her a bit at ease, making her decide to come back in a couple weeks for the next book.
A Spark Ignites
First Step: Facing the piles of unfinished and supplies for art concepts. In all the books, the heroine starts to create art again as part of the journey.
She decides to start a new piece of art, feeling a flicker of confidence.
Act II: Confrontation - Healing & Connection
Critique & Courage
Being an introvert, putting myself out there has been hard. Social interactions don’t come naturally, so she decides to create a website and social media to share her art.
There is a fear of not being able to consistently post and a fear of internet trolls and negative criticism.
Building Connections
Attending Book Club - Continuing to get to know the other members better and more about them.
Since there was time between work and book club, she arrived early and started to talk to the bartender - Alex. She found him attractive, but her own prejudice against just being a bartender caused her to keep it superficial. There is also her own insecurity that someone that attractive may even be interested in someone like her.
The Old Voices Return
She submits her work to a local show and is rejected - She questions her talent and her anxiety spirals
Echoes of her mother’s doubts, triggering a relapse in insecurity causing her to doubt herself and regress.
Continuing to journal to undercover the deeper roots of her insecurities and negative beliefs.
A Helping Hand
She finds encouragement in unexpected places - talking Alex before book she discovers that there is more to him the she originally thought. It turns out that he is also an artist and has gone through rejection too, and encourages her to keep trying.
The other group members also offer support, deepens the friendship.
The Turning Point
More self-help work and journaling - she re-commits to prioritizing self-compassion over societal approval.
She works on Cognitive Shifts – Practicing CBT exercises
Romance Revisited
Book Club: Relating to heroines in novels like The Kiss Quotient
Discussion on the challenges of being neurodivergent and dating.
Hidden Talents
She experiments with a new medium, discovering a unique style that excites her and not letting the rejection cause her to give up.
Decides to really put the effort in on a new collection for another upcoming show, but there is a short deadline to prepare.
Work-Life Collision
Her job demands increase, making it hard to balance work and art - since to be ready in time she would need to take some vacation days.
She considers quitting creating art since it is hard to find a struggle for balance.
Testing Limits
She steps out of her comfort zone: decides to wears a bold outfit that fits more with the personal of her characters in the books
She tries to flirt with Alex, sending a friend request when home that is accepted. She sends a message - seen but no reply
A feeling or rejection and like she made a fool out of herself.
Conflict and Clarity
This rejection forces her to choose between old patterns and embracing her growth.
Breakthroughs
Coming to book club, and facing seeing Alex again after the embarrassment. She does not bring up his not replying and pretends that nothing happened.
Sharing a personal story in book club about being reject by a close friend the prior year ago. This was an emotional release.
Related to the book: People we meet on Vacation by Emily Henry - how hard to read since she own experience was different.
Act III: Resolution - Transformation & Happiness
Unexpected Ally
Finds support from an unlikely source at work. Her colleague Morgan unexpectedly supports her artistic pursuits, bridging her two worlds.
She continues to work on her new collections and submits her sample pieces to the gallery.
Acts of Self-Love
Self-doubt resurfaces, but she recognizes her progress and refuses to give up.
Writing a letter to her mother and releasing old pain - but doing a ritualistic burning since sending it would be pointless.
She forgives herself for her past self-criticism and accepts the imperfections that make her unique.
Breakthrough
She has overcomes a major creative block, and is producing her best work yet for the project.
Suddenly she hears back that her work will be on display at the beginning of next months since there is an opening.
The Freak Out
Moments of self-doubt appear as she is now on a deadline
The reality of a show is on the horizon, the stress causes her to snap at her friends - a reactionary behavior.
True Friendship
She attends book club opens up fully and apologizes for her behavior.
She shares with the group about her stress and feeling insecure about the upcoming show.
She invites everyone - including Alex - to attend the opening show.
Showtime
The new portfolio is revealed at a show and it receives a positive reception.
Her friends from book club attend – she gets to celebrates with friends who value her for who she is.
Alex also attends and tells her that he is proud of her and for not giving up.
Being Vulnerable
She makes the conscious choice to tell him how she feels, risking rejection.
He doesn’t say anything and is just silent, causing her to bolt.
She feels like such an idiot, she should have known better than to put herself out there again.
New Beginnings
As she comes into Book Club, knowing she would see Alex her heart sinks. Why did she risk losing this group of friends and social interaction over love.
She knows that facing this will be hard, but she has done hard things before.
I am not sure what I want to happen with him… Yet.
Embracing Happiness (6 Months Later)
Lila reflects on her journey reflects on her growth and letting go of the past.
Relationship… I am not sure yet.
She continues to pursue her art and has found balance.
She encourages others to explore their own creative side and living authentically.
An Ordinary Day
Staring at my computer screen, I know I should be working, but my mind just won’t focus. The minutes drag by, each one feeling longer than the last, especially during that final hour on a Friday afternoon. It’s as though I’m watching a pot of water that refuses to boil, the anticipation mounting but nothing ever happening. In an attempt to break through the monotony, I pick up my mug and weave my way through the maze of cubicles, heading toward the main hall, then onward to the cafeteria for ice and water. The office feels unusually quiet, even by Friday standards. If I had to guess, it's probably because it’s Halloween and most of my coworkers with children have already left for the day. Since I’m single and don’t have kids, I don’t have the same excuse to head out early.
My focus is scattered, largely because I know I need to leave on time. If I start any meaningful work now, there’s a real possibility I’ll lose track of time and end up running late. I have a coffee date set for 4:30 with someone I met on Bumble, so my plan is to leave by 4 PM, which should get me there a little early. As the minutes tick by, though, I’m tempted to cancel the date entirely. I’ve put myself out there several times, but my enthusiasm is waning. Still, I can’t bring myself to cancel at the last minute—it just wouldn’t be fair. Earlier this year, I was stood up twice, and that stung, so I’d rather not tempt fate. Yet, every time I try dating again, I find myself wondering: isn’t the definition of insanity doing the same thing over and over, hoping for a different result?
So, you may ask, why am I putting myself through this again? I blame the cooling weather and the end of the year, and with the holiday season quickly approaching, it's hard not to feel the pressure of loneliness more acutely. In a moment of weakness, I decided to get back on Bumble and give the app another chance, even though I probably should have known better. The inevitability of the season and the hope for change nudged me forward.
When 4 PM finally arrives, I know it's time to suck it up and drive to Starbucks for my coffee date. I had already mapped out the best route to get there, confirming not just the drive time but also the entrance to the parking lot. Even though I have lived in Peoria my entire life, I always double-check the directions and travel time. I think it's a reflection of my own social anxiety and paranoia—re-confirming all this information, as if it will somehow take a little bit of stress off my shoulders and make the upcoming interaction easier to handle.
I arrive at Starbucks a few minutes ahead of schedule and scan the room, noticing that he hasn’t arrived yet. Deciding not to wait, I go ahead and order my drink—opting to pay for myself since I’m not particularly excited about this date and don’t want him to feel obligated. Not being a coffee drinker, I ask for a Caramel Apple Spice, only to learn that it’s no longer available. I take a deep breath and ask about the available tea flavors. When I hear “mint,” I quickly choose that option. With my tea in hand, I find a table in the corner, positioning myself to have a clear view of the entrance. As I take a sip, I burn my tongue—ouch. I’m grateful he wasn’t there to witness my awkwardness as I fidget with the square tag attached to my tea bag.
While waiting, a sense of tightness grows in my chest and the feeling of dread intensifies. I’m unsure whether this is due to my lack of enthusiasm for the date or my own emotional disconnect. It’s clear to me that I need to move on, especially knowing that the person I truly want isn’t interested in me. Perhaps dating isn’t right for me at this moment, but I recognize that it’s time to let go of any lingering romantic hopes and move forward.
The door opens and I steel myself, but it’s not him. I check my watch; he’s running late. Although he texted to say he was on his way, I’ve learned that doesn’t always guarantee anything. I have a habit of being five to ten minutes late, so being early today feels like a small victory. Finally, the door opens again and he walks in—let the evening begin.
As an avid reader, this is the point in a story where I start thinking: could this be the beginning of a romance novel or perhaps a murder mystery, given that it is Halloween? Choosing to be optimistic, I lean toward the possibility of romance. Thinking of the wide variety or romance troupes, I think I would narrow it down to one of the two following options:
Option 1: Despite my reservations, I notice him stride in, and there’s an undeniable spark of electricity—sudden excitement fills the air. It feels as though all the heartbreak and effort I’ve put forth might finally be rewarded. We schedule another date, and as our relationship develops, we encounter miscommunications that need resolving. Each misunderstanding tests our patience but also brings us closer, hinting that perhaps this could be the start of something meaningful.
Option 2: Alternatively, the date could go horribly wrong. Despite some initial attraction, miscommunication arises—much like when Mr. Darcy slights Elizabeth Bennet in Pride and Prejudice. The evening leaves me certain I’ll never see him again. However, circumstances intervene when a project or event requires us to work together, forcing proximity that neither of us can avoid. Over time, as we resolve our differences, initial dislike gradually transforms into genuine affection. Oh, Jane Austen, you have been giving women unrealistic expectations of men since 1811.
In both cases the sextual tension builds leading to amazing sex (insert all the cliches) as the protagonist has multiple orgasms. As my brain wonders, I am now curious how Jane Austen would have written sex scenes in today’s modern era. I am now thinking maybe I should read the Bridgerton novels to insert a little bit of spice into my life.
You should know that this date was not that. It was unforgettable, though not in the way I had hoped. Honestly, there’s little worth recounting—the conversation fell flat, the chemistry was nonexistent, and the entire encounter left me feeling more drained than before. I politely made my excuses, thanked him for meeting me, and quickly retreated to the sanctuary of my house. By 6 PM, I was already home, relieved that the ordeal was over. At this point, I am completely over the dating apps and the endless cycle of hope and disappointment they seem to bring.
Yes, I am fully aware that my life might seem sad and even a little pathetic at times. It’s Halloween night, and I find myself alone at home, with no weekend plans in sight. The thought crosses my mind—if something were to happen to me, it’s likely no one would notice until Monday, when I failed to show up for work. The only exception would be my cat, who, despite not having an official name and being referred to simply as “cat,” would probably be irritated by my absence.
Trying to shake off the gloom, I open a bottle of wine and pour myself a generous glass. Deciding to relax, I settle in front of the TV. Since it’s Halloween, I choose to watch Hocus Pocus, a movie that never fails to make me laugh. Having watched it countless times, I appreciate the comfort of knowing exactly what to expect—no surprises, just familiar silliness. The scene where they sing “I Put a Spell on You” always cracks me up; honestly, does that song ever get old?
I generally prefer to avoid scary movies because they tend to make me anxious. While some people enjoy the adrenaline rush that comes from suspense or fear, I find much more comfort in stories where I can anticipate the outcome or at least feel confident that things will turn out all right. When it comes to choosing what to watch or read, I gravitate toward entertainment that provides an escape from reality and ends on a happy note.
My favorite genres are thought-provoking fiction, romance, and cozy mysteries. For example, I know that in Agatha Christie’s books, nothing truly bad will ever happen to Miss Marple—she will always unravel the mystery in the end. There’s a certain reassurance in returning to stories where the characters overcome challenges and everything is resolved by the final chapter.
Sometimes, I find myself wishing that my life resembled the books I read—that I was simply living through the first act, with something greater waiting just beyond the everyday routine. But as we all know, real life isn’t fiction, and most of us don’t get a guaranteed happily ever after.
Echoes of the Past
Another supposedly fun-filled weekend has arrived, yet I find myself recovering from the emotional hangover of the previous day. The weight of recent events leaves me feeling like I need to accomplish something—anything—to break out of this downward spiral. Lately, it’s felt like an endless loop: by the time the workweek ends, I am so emotionally drained that even activities I usually enjoy, or simple household chores, seem insurmountable. Resting doesn’t solve the problem, either; instead of feeling restored, I am plagued by guilt for having spent time doing nothing. The end result is a double defeat—I haven’t achieved anything, and I’m still just as exhausted.
From the outside, it probably appears as though I’m just lazy, which only adds another layer of shame and guilt. People see my inactivity and assume I’m simply not trying hard enough, but the truth is far more complicated. I want to be productive; I want to tackle the day and get things done, but I can’t. Inside my mind, there’s a constant argument—a tug-of-war that feels as futile and frustrating as reasoning with a stubborn toddler. Nothing seems to work, and I’m met with unsolicited advice: “Try harder,” they say, or, “Have you tried this planner or system?” If a planner or system could fix this, I’d have found it by now—my growing pile of unused planners is evidence enough. Do people really think I’m not trying? Do they think I’m stupid?
These judgments only deepen the sense of failure, not just as an adult, but especially as a woman. The spiral continues—every attempt to reach out for help is met with skepticism, making it even harder to ask again. The result is self-isolation. The sensations are overwhelming: frustration wells up until tears threaten to spill, my body aches from the constant tension, and headaches have become a daily battle. More than anything, I just want to be happy; I want to have what everyone else seems to possess. I find myself wondering what I did wrong for life to feel so difficult, and anxiety only amplifies the physical pain that accompanies these feelings.
Instead of being able to face my demons, I end up doing nothing and spiraling into a sense of worthless failure. I freeze—unable to move forward, paralyzed by indecision and self-doubt. The weekend slips by in a haze of doom scrolling through social media and binge-watching Netflix. I don’t understand why I keep doing this to myself or how to break the cycle and make it stop.
I think one reason I’m drawn to romantic comedies is because the characters’ lives often start out messy, just like mine, but by the end, everything seems to fall into place. They have close-knit friendships, caring families, and eventually find true love. Sometimes, though, I can’t help but grow cynical about how unrealistic these stories are and wonder why I keep watching them when they only seem to highlight what’s missing in my own life.
As I scroll through Facebook, I notice that Luke posted about taking an art class with some mutual friends—a class we had previously talked about doing together. Seeing this, I feel a deep sinking in my heart, a familiar sense of rejection. I know that I like him more than he likes me, and if we’re ever going to do something together, I have to be the one to plan it and hope he shows up. I recognize that this isn’t healthy, but forming a connection with someone is so rare for me that I cling to it. I wish I could just let go or turn off my brain, but I don’t know how.
I’m fully aware that doom scrolling isn’t good for me; the longer I scroll, the emptier I feel, as though life is passing me by. Sometimes I pause and hardly recognize myself or remember how I ended up here. Things haven’t turned out the way I’d hoped—failed relationships and friendships have left their mark. I often feel like I’m either not enough or simply too much for others. It always seems like I’m the one putting in all the effort—checking on and helping others—while no one checks up on me. On the outside, I might appear smart, calm, and collected, but inside, I’ve been running on empty for a long time.
The Unspoken Rules
The chirping of birds and the warm glow of dawn awaken me. Ugh—another Monday morning as I hit snooze on my alarm clock. I bought this fancy alarm clock hoping it would make waking up easier, but news flash: it doesn’t. Every morning, I still groan and hit snooze. I see all these posts about people’s morning routines and how they just hop out of bed. Nope. I’m guessing these are the same unicorns who go to bed, fall asleep instantly, and don’t have random thoughts at 3 AM.
When I finally get up, I stretch; my neck is stiff and my shoulders are sore. The constant clenching of my jaw and turtling of my shoulders make this morning stretch critical as I try to loosen my muscles. I keep muscle creams in my bag to help with the pain. With a sigh, I try to figure out what to wear, digging through the laundry basket of clean clothes until I find a pair of jeans and a sweater. Then comes the search for underwear, a bra, and—ideally—two matching socks. Laundry is my arch nemesis; I manage to wash it and get it into baskets but putting it away feels like a pipe dream. Occasionally, I have the energy to fold everything and actually get it into drawers. I consider myself lucky that the dress code is casual, so I don’t also have the stress of dealing with clothing that wrinkles.
I take a quick shower and get dressed, preparing myself for another workday. Mornings are never easy for me, and Mondays tend to be the most difficult. I manage to arrive at work just in time for my 8 a.m. project status meeting—by far the worst part of my week, but at least it’s over early. To make matters worse, the meeting is led by Alice, whose “fake nice” demeanor is always unsettling. Her tone of voice is jarring and today is no exception. My attempt at small talk backfires when I try to joke about not being a morning person until I’ve had my caffeine. Alice responds by glaring at me and asking, “When are you ever happy?” The comment stings, but Morgan quickly jumps in, saying, “Happy hour, of course.” I laugh and agree that 5 p.m. is definitely a happy time, relieved that Morgan’s intervention diffused the situation.
Once the meeting ends, I decide to stand up for myself and ask Alice what she meant by her comment. She rolls her eyes and says, “I was just joking, but seriously, do you even want to be here?” I press for clarification, and she continues, “Well, you tend to wear your noise-cancelling headphones when you work and don’t just visit with us.” I take a deep breath and explain, “As I mentioned before, noises are distracting, so I wear my headphones.” I then ask, “Are you bothered by Charlie and Drew? They also wear noise-cancelling headphones and are less social than I am.” Alice responds, “Well, that’s just different.” Observing the apparent double standard, I reply calmly, “It seems there may be a double standard at play,” and then exit the conversation without awaiting further comment.
I don’t understand why Alice seems to dislike me, but it’s a common struggle when trying to relate to other women at work. The first challenge is not having kids or a spouse, which makes it hard to join in conversations that revolve around family and children. I often hear side comments suggesting that I don’t understand what it means to be tired or stressed, as though my experiences are somehow less valid or I’m not good enough.
I’m not sure what I expected my career to look like at this stage of life. Most of my days are spent in meetings, updating spreadsheets, or creating technical documents. Back in high school, I excelled at math and science, so it was clear I’d pursue a STEM field. The idea of dealing with anything medical was out—I couldn’t stomach the thought—and teaching didn’t appeal to me either. Engineering seemed the most logical choice, so I became an Industrial Engineer. Do I use my degree? Not really, but I don’t mind my job for the most part; the pay is decent and I get along with most of my coworkers.
Despite my technical background, I wish I could do something more creative—if not at work, then at least on the side. I’ve always been artistic; in school, I dabbled in various forms, but photography was my main focus. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve explored other creative outlets, like experimenting with wood and mixed materials. I enjoy creating and showing the world from a different perspective, transforming basic materials into something thought-provoking.
A few years ago, I considered exhibiting some of my work, but nothing came of it. Throughout my upbringing, I was taught that my life should be productive and serve a practical purpose—art didn’t fit into that narrative. When I mentioned the idea of exhibiting my wood art, my mom dismissed it, saying, “Who would buy anything from you?” Her lack of support made me doubt myself. If my own mother doesn’t think I’m good enough, who else would?
Inspired by Art
After a very long week, I realized I needed to find something fun to do this weekend—but I wasn’t sure what. I wanted an activity that wouldn’t feel awkward doing alone, since I don’t really have anyone to invite along. Scrolling through local Facebook Events and community pages, I came across a Fine Art Fair about an hour away that seemed interesting. Lately, I’ve been thinking more and more about seriously getting back into creating art. I have several unfinished projects and a long list of ideas from the past. Art is something I enjoy and can do by myself, and maybe a day out will lift my mood and give me some inspiration.
The day promised to be beautiful—a sunny fall afternoon, likely one of the last before the cold Midwest winter arrives. The show was set up in the downtown business district, lining a street filled with bars and restaurants. I managed to find parking at a nearby municipal lot and walked to the beginning of the fair, surprised by how crowded it was. As I wandered past the first few booths, I took in the variety of art on display, just glancing at each to see what they offered. There were watercolors, metal sculptures, and fiber art among the first exhibitors. Feeling a bit nervous about striking up conversations with the artists, I decided to stop and grab a beer for a little liquid courage before approaching anyone.
Spotting a craft brewery with an inviting patio and an impressive selection, I decided to stop in. The patio looked lively, and I was drawn by the variety of beers on tap. Opting for a sample flight, I chose a hefeweizen, a couple of ales, and a hazy IPA—figuring this assortment would offer a good sense of whether I’d want to return in the future. With my drinks in hand, I settled at the patio bar, perfectly positioned to watch people stroll by.
As I observed, I noticed that groups tended to keep to themselves, sometimes even seeming annoyed by those sitting alone, as though I were taking up space. On rare occasions, another solo patron might strike up a conversation, but for the most part, I felt invisible. Today was no different—everyone was with someone else, so I sat quietly, simply watching the world go by. The beers were enjoyable, but since my main goal was to find inspiration, I soon decided to head back out and continue wandering through the tents.
As I walked, I began thinking about what it would actually take to participate in one of these art shows. The first challenge would be creating a couple of cohesive collections—right now, my ideas are scattered in every direction, and I struggle to find a clear voice. Then there’s the ever-present question: am I good enough? I noticed a wide range of booths, from those displaying average work to others showcasing extraordinary pieces. Some booths felt more like crafts than fine art, which gave me a bit of confidence that there might be a place for what I do.
But the logistics are daunting. I’d need a tent, fixtures, and all the marketing and social media that go along with exhibiting. As usual, my mind started to overthink everything required, especially when I’m still at the starting line, wrestling with my overall vision.
I know I can’t count on family support. I rarely talk to my mom, and I certainly wouldn’t ask her for help with my art dreams—she’s never been supportive, caring more about appearances and what I can do for her than my aspirations. What I truly wish for is a community of people to brainstorm with and receive feedback from. It would be wonderful if there were local groups to meet with or some way to network with like-minded individuals.
After spending time walking around the fair and chatting with some artists, I realized I was getting hungry and decided it was time to find something to eat. I made my way to a local gastropub and brewery, eager to try some interesting food and, naturally, sample a few new beers. For me, discovering unique flavors and dishes—especially when I don’t have to cook them myself—is one of the simple pleasures in life.
Once inside, I took a seat at the bar to order my food and settled in with my beer. Sitting there alone, I found myself needing something to occupy my mind. The events of the day inspired me, so I decided to use this moment to brainstorm ideas for a potential art collection. I pulled out a blank piece of paper, ready to capture any creative sparks that might arise.
However, as I stared at the empty page, I let out a sigh, feeling a familiar tightness return to my chest. It was clear I was in a creative slump. My mind was either overflowing with scattered, disconnected ideas, or I simply couldn’t come up with anything that felt right or worth pursuing. The frustration and uncertainty weighed on me, making it hard to find the inspiration I was hoping for.
A Lonely Canvas
After yesterday’s trip to the fine art fair, I was hoping that the experience would spark enough inspiration for me to start something new or finally finish one of the projects I had already begun. This morning, I got up and walked into my dining room, which I’ve converted into a makeshift studio, and surveyed the work I had started. Instead of seeing progress, I could only focus on the flaws in each piece. The critical voices in my mind seemed louder than ever, echoing the sentiment that my work simply isn’t good enough.
Feeling discouraged, I set my projects aside and glanced at the supplies I had purchased with the intention of exploring new ideas. Rather than excitement, the sight of these unused materials brought a familiar tightening and anxiety to my chest. The pressure of not living up to my own expectations—and the fear of never measuring up—was overwhelming.
In an effort to regain some sense of direction, I decided to make yet another list of ideas, hoping that something new might come to mind since last night. I am aware that this habit of list-making is a coping mechanism, a way to feel as though I’m accomplishing something even when I’m not. Over the years, I’ve created countless lists that remain incomplete, but the very act of writing them gives me a fleeting sense of control over my life, especially when everything else feels uncertain.
I often find myself wondering how others manage to put themselves out there so confidently. They seem to handle criticism and rejection without a second thought, continuing to create, post, and build impressive followings. Social media, in particular, is something I struggle with. I started an account a few years ago and tried posting, but I couldn’t make it grow or gain any real traction. Part of my hesitation comes from the belief that each post needs to be something truly special—I worry about being annoying or sharing things that no one cares about. The pressure to post daily is overwhelming, especially when I feel I don’t have enough content that’s good or interesting enough to share. Ironically, I enjoy photography, but I haven’t taken any decent product pictures to feature.
Creating a website feels just as daunting. I’ve never built one before, and the thought of it is overwhelming—who would even look at it? At the core, I just want to focus on making art, yet so much of what’s considered being a “real artist” seems to have little to do with actual talent. This leads me to question myself: do I truly want to pursue art and make something of it? What is it that I’m so afraid of?
I often ask myself why simply creating for my own enjoyment, learning new techniques, and pursuing the projects and skills on my wish list never feels like enough. Even as I try to explore these interests, something always seems to hold me back. The doubts and uncertainty can be overwhelming, leaving me feeling stuck and frustrated. At times, it all just feels like too much to handle.
Tonight, rather than confronting these feelings directly, I chose to seek comfort in small rituals—making a pizza and opening a cold beer. It’s my way of pressing pause on reality, allowing myself a brief escape before I have to return to the demands of work tomorrow.
Romance Escape
After another long day at work, I followed my usual routine: coming home in the evening and settling into my living room to unwind. Seeking relaxation, I reached for a new book by a different author, hoping that the change might offer something light and airy—perhaps even a touch of magic or romance.
Sometimes I crave deeper, more insightful stories. I’m also partial to a good mystery, though I’ve started to notice a peculiar trend: why are so many bodies found in libraries? I can’t help but blame Agatha Christie for popularizing this trope. Honestly, leaving a body in a library seems like a terrible idea. Librarians have an incredible wealth of knowledge, particularly when it comes to solving mysteries, and their resourcefulness would make them formidable amateur detectives. In fact, they’re probably the last group of “ordinary” people I’d want involved in a murder investigation. But I digress.
Wanting to avoid the realities of my day, I decided to dive into a romance novel—specifically, Tessa Bailey’s “Fangirl Down.” I have to admit, this was the fastest I’ve ever put down a book unfinished, and I’m grateful I borrowed it from the library. The experience left me questioning whether there was something in the story that others appreciated but I missed, or if perhaps I simply view characters differently. The protagonist struck me as overly saccharine and, frankly, somewhat creepy in her obsessive behavior. The male lead—a pro golfer—was a toxic mess. Within the first chapter, it was clear the story would revolve around a girl attempting to “save” a troubled man, and I just couldn’t continue. I’m not sure whether to give the author another try to see if her style shifts, or if this simply appeals to a different readership than me.
While I appreciate authors who depict characters struggling—since it’s something we all experience—I believe growth and self-awareness are essential. I don’t enjoy stories where the woman is responsible for rescuing a toxic male. I’m much more interested in relationships where both partners support each other as they work through their issues together. I’ve learned that I can’t save anyone, even though my problem-solving instincts as an engineer sometimes make it tempting to try.
Another popular book that popped up on my feed that I made it to the end but almost DNF was “The Lost Bookshop” by Evie Woods. My problem with this book was the character growth and development. I wanted to instead write the author and ask her if she is ok based on the behaviors of Henry, the supposed good guy. As someone who has battled their mental health and toxic relationships, I was also bothered by how she showed the healing process, it is almost harmful. First there was Henry – my god was he is an idiot. What kind of PHD students doesn’t know how to do basic research? When he meets Martha, she is able to quickly google on her smart phone and finds key information about dissertation. Then some of the ways he talks to her and treats her was cringe worthy. Worst of all, who just leaves a note for their partner to find – which of course is lost – and doesn’t call or text for days effectively ghosting her. Then worst off all, he has spent years being angry with his dad that has impacted every aspect of this life. Then suddenly, his dad just apologizes he is suddenly good. Nope… that is not how that works. Dealing with trauma takes years of work, you can’t just say it all good and be fine. Then there is Opaline’s story, she was kept for years in a mental hospital and at the end just… walks out. How dumb… like she had to progress the story so went with the “all good” and no character growth or development. How do these books become so popular? Do people not recognize that is not how healing works? I am not going to even get into how they deal with Martha’s abusive ex and her own healing.
Another popular book that recently appeared in my feed was “The Lost Bookshop” by Evie Woods. I did manage to finish it, but it was almost a “did not finish” for me due to significant frustrations with the character growth and development. Having personally dealt with mental health struggles and toxic relationships, I found the depiction of the healing process in this novel to be not only unrealistic but bordering on harmful. The portrayal of Henry, supposedly the “good guy,” was especially troubling. At times, his actions and decisions made me want to reach out to the author herself and ask if she was okay, given how problematic his behavior was.
Henry, for instance, is a PhD student who inexplicably lacks basic research skills—so much so that Martha, upon meeting him, is able to quickly perform a simple Google search on her smartphone and uncover key information related to his dissertation. His interactions with Martha often crossed into uncomfortable territory, filled with cringe-worthy comments and actions. The worst example was when Henry left a note for Martha, which, predictably, got lost—and then he failed to call or text her for days, effectively ghosting her.
Even more concerning was Henry’s unresolved anger toward his father, which had permeated every aspect of his life for years. The narrative then abruptly resolves this issue: his father apologizes, and suddenly everything is fine. That’s just not how healing from trauma works. Recovery is a long-term process, not something that is fixed with a single conversation or apology.
Opaline’s story was equally unconvincing. After spending years confined to a mental hospital, she simply walks out by the novel’s end—with no meaningful character growth or development depicted. It felt as though the need to move the plot forward took precedence over authentic, believable progress for her character.
It’s baffling how books like this become so popular. Do readers not recognize that this is not how real healing happens? I won’t even get started on how the narrative handles Martha’s abusive ex and her own journey toward healing.
My reactions to certain books are deeply personal, likely because I have invested so much effort in my own journey of self-improvement. Despite this hard work, I often find myself feeling stuck, unable to silence the persistent voices in my head. It is a constant internal debate between my logical reasoning and my emotional responses. The triggers from my past remain active; it’s not as simple as declaring “I’m good” and suddenly becoming fine. Healing is far more complicated, and the idea that one can just “fix” a toxic partner and instantly transform them into someone supportive feels unrealistic to me.
One of the main reasons I read is to find hope—to believe that good things are possible. Yet, I can’t help but wish for a future partner who communicates well, someone who knows how to send a simple text to let me know if they’re out of town, or who can perform a basic Google search when needed. These small gestures matter and are important to me.
Sometimes, I wonder whether I could replicate some of the growth and transformation I read about or see on screen in my own life. Is it possible for me to embark on a hero’s journey of personal growth and change? At this moment, I feel more like a supporting character in the story of my own life, rather than the protagonist driving the narrative forward.
Perhaps I can take the books I've read and the movies I've watched as inspiration to craft my own narrative. By blending the genres, I enjoy and playing with familiar tropes, maybe I could see what unfolds if I try to apply these storylines to my own life. It’s possible that doing so might help me break out of my current slump and catalyze some real change. For now, I think I’ll focus on drawing from insightful fiction and romance—I'll steer clear of mysteries, though. I have no desire to stumble upon a dead body or be suspected of murder in my story.
The Romance Novel
Most romance books begin with a range of classic scenarios. One that is popular is the bad break-up or divorce storyline, which paves the way for the protagonist to meet an amazing new partner. I certainly have a collection of break-up stories myself. Then there is in a bad relationship and meet someone new, and it takes times to realize they are with the wrong person. The one I most closely identify with the woman who is hopeless in love, chronically single, and gradually losing hope. It’s a little embarrassing to admit that I have never been loved before. It has been so long since I went on a good date—or had sex—that I honestly wouldn’t know what to do if I found myself in a relationship again.
There are countless ways romance novels orchestrate that pivotal first encounter between the protagonist and their love interest. One of the most beloved is the “enemies to friends” arc, famously exemplified by Pride and Prejudice, which remains one of my all-time favorites. Right now, though, I can’t think of any men in my life who fit the role of an enemy—which, honestly, is probably for the best.
Another frequently used scenario is fake dating. As much as these stories can be entertaining, I can’t imagine a situation where I would need to pretend to date someone; my family has accepted my single status for so long that they no longer ask about my relationships.
Then, there’s the trope of rekindling a romance with an ex. That’s definitely not for me—my last ex broke up with me right before Valentine’s Day, on the very day his gift arrived in the mail. Needless to say, I have no desire to revisit old relationships.
In terms of close male friends, there’s only Luke, but I know nothing romantic will ever develop between us. It’s not even something I want to daydream about. Instead, I need to focus on moving forward—and that means opening myself up to meeting someone new, someone who genuinely wants to be a part of my life. To make that happen, I’ll have to start putting myself out there and engaging in more social situations, with the hope of experiencing that classic “meet cute.” Who knows? Perhaps this could be the beginning of a great romance novel of my own.
The Found Family
The “found family” trope centers on the journey of an outcast who, over time, discovers a close-knit group of friends who fill the role of family. In my own life, I carry memories of toxic family relationships; I have made difficult but necessary decisions to set boundaries and limit contact with those individuals. While these actions have been important for my well-being, the aftereffects linger—especially when it comes to learning how to truly trust others and allow them into my life.
Sometimes I wonder if the found family scenario is truly attainable for someone in my situation. Being single and childless in my 40s, forming deep, meaningful friendships feels particularly challenging. While I do have a circle of acquaintances, building the kind of close bond one has with a best friend or confidant is something that currently eludes me. The thought of actively seeking out such relationships feels overwhelming; I’m not even sure where to begin, and the enormity of the task is already sinking in.
Despite these feelings, I recognize the need to take proactive steps. If I want to create my own found family, I will have to figure out how to meet more people in my life and invest in growing those connections. I suspect that this process will require considerable research and self-reflection—fortunately, delving into new challenges is something I’m good at and genuinely enjoy. Even though the path ahead seems daunting, I am prepared to investigate and learn as much as I can to make this vision a reality.
The Glow Up
The "glow up" troupe centers on a character’s transformative journey—both internal and external—where they overcome personal obstacles, embrace self-improvement, and ultimately discover newfound confidence and worth. Often, this transformation goes beyond just a physical makeover; it includes emotional growth, healing from past wounds, and developing a stronger sense of self. The glow up frequently serves as a catalyst for positive changes in relationships, career, and overall happiness, making it a beloved trope for readers who enjoy stories of hope and empowerment.
Reflecting on the “glow up” trope, I see how it can serve as a model for my own growth. I realize that it’s time to identify which areas of my life need positive change—starting with rebuilding my self-confidence and making my well-being a priority. The past few years have left me feeling disconnected from who I once was; the fun and flirty aspects of my personality seem to have faded away. Years of being told I wasn’t feminine enough have taken their toll, and in some ways, I almost gave up trying as a form of rebellion. Now, I know that true transformation will require significant internal work. I am prepared to face this challenge and commit to the internal growth necessary to rediscover my sense of self.
Finding Purpose as an Artist
The “finding your purpose” trope often centers on a character’s quest for meaning, particularly through their creative pursuits as an artist. The protagonist typically faces persistent self-doubt, an accumulation of unfinished projects, and pervasive feelings of being an imposter. This mirrors exactly where I find myself at this stage in my life.
Such journeys usually begin from a place of feeling lost or disconnected—not only from one’s art, but also from one’s authentic self. It’s common for the character to navigate stretches of intense introspection and vulnerability before they can rediscover their direction. For me, this is perhaps the most daunting challenge; contemplating what I truly desire and determining the future of my artistic endeavors fills me with considerable anxiety.
As I sit here, reflecting on the different areas of my life where I am struggling, I realize just how overwhelming it all feels. There is a sense that I have lost myself and the essence of who I truly am. The weight of these feelings builds up inside me, leading to anxiety and tension that even manifests physically as tight muscles. Recognizing this, I understand that the first steps I need to take involve uncovering and reconnecting with my true identity.
Seeds of Change
How do I figure out who the hell I am?
Approaching this challenge with the mindset of a logical engineer, my first step is to research how to truly discover who I am. According to google, self-reflection is essential. I plan to begin by asking probing questions and applying the “5 Whys” technique to dig beneath the surface of my struggles. Having used the 5 Whys as part of the Root Cause Corrective Action (RCCA) process, I am confident that this method will serve me well here, helping to identify the underlying causes of my feelings and behaviors.
I’ve learned that setting realistic goals is key. My tendency to aim for the stars often leads to feeling overwhelmed and, ultimately, giving up. To counter this, I’ll take inspiration from the way I approach building Lego sets: I start with bag one, focusing on one piece at a time. By breaking down my ambitions into manageable tasks and milestones, I hope to make the entire process less daunting and more achievable.
Consistent documentation of my progress will be important in maintaining motivation. I have a habit of overlooking my accomplishments and fixating on what still needs to be done. To shift this perspective, I’ll begin keeping a journal, using it to track both small victories and setbacks. Admittedly, my first instinct was to create a spreadsheet, but a journal may be more appropriate.
Romance / The Found Family
Both the pursuit of purpose as an artist and the journey toward self-acceptance require me to summon the courage to step out of my comfort zone and engage with new people. This inevitably means facing my social anxiety and the sting of possible rejection. I am well aware of my quirks and the feeling that I do not quite fit in with others. Historically, forming relationships has been a significant challenge for me, as my personality does not naturally draw people in. It often takes me a considerable amount of time to feel comfortable enough around others to truly connect.
Additionally, I recognize that I can sometimes be overwhelming in social situations. When I am passionate about a subject, I tend to talk excessively and have difficulty refraining from interrupting others or properly reading social cues. On the other hand, I often feel inadequate in many ways. I have never been the easy-going, fun person in a group; instead, I have always been someone who thinks deeply about the world around me.
In romantic relationships, I am keenly aware of the areas where I fall short of what is often expected. Past partners have criticized me for not maintaining a clean and organized home, for not fitting the standard feminine personality, and for my appearance—particularly my struggles with weight. These criticisms have left lasting marks, reinforcing feelings of not being enough.
The accumulation of all this criticism has eroded my confidence. People frequently advise, “Just be confident,” but it is difficult to cultivate confidence when one is consistently made to feel unworthy. I understand that true confidence must come from within, but I am still searching for the answer to how, exactly, one discovers that sense of self-worth.
The Glow Up
Reflecting on my past, I remember how exercise brought me happiness and a sense of comfort within my body. Returning to a routine that includes working out feels necessary, not only to restore my confidence but also to help me reconnect with myself. To make this process more social and enjoyable, I am considering joining group fitness classes or similar activities. This could be a way to meet new people while simultaneously working on my physical health.
The other area that I know I need to work on is my appearance. This one is an emotional trigger for me. I don’t really have a style; I grew up with a highly critical mom who criticized everything that I wore. I have never been feminine enough for her – she insulted everything about me including my hair, jewelry, make-up and clothing – nothing was ever good enough. So much so that I don’t have my own personal sense of style. Then on top of that I have never been skinny enough for her – she has even told me that if I lost weight then maybe I could get a boyfriend. I feel that some of my resistance has been out of rebellion against her and not doing anything to make her happy. I am not sure how to address this one… yet. How do I find and love me.
While navigating the impact of past criticism, especially from my mom, I find myself unsure of how to develop and embrace a personal sense of style. The journey toward self-acceptance and self-love is challenging, but acknowledging these feelings is the first step. I am beginning to ask myself: How do I find and love me?
Finding Purpose as an Artist
As I reflect on other aspects of my life, a clear pattern emerges. Most of my experiences have been marked by criticism rather than encouragement. This realization brings a complex mix of emotions. Despite the constant challenges, I recognize that I deserve credit for my resilience and determination to keep trying, year after year, regardless of the setbacks I have faced.
Living in a world that often feels ill-suited to who I am is exhausting. It frequently seems as though I am running in sand—exerting immense effort but making little visible progress. This ongoing struggle makes it incredibly difficult to tap into creativity and authentic self-expression, especially when self-doubt persists. I find myself continually second-guessing my choices and worrying about how others will perceive me, which only amplifies my fears and hesitations.
To move forward, I need to explore what I truly enjoy creating and what activities genuinely bring me joy. Discovering these passions is essential if I am to break free from the cycle of doubt and criticism and begin expressing myself with confidence and authenticity.
I think one of the first things that I need to do is to start putting myself out there meeting new people as I figure out who I am. I know that people may not like me, but I need to socialize more and hopefully find a support system. I know that learning to change my mindset is going to be a challenge.
As I continue this journey of self-discovery, one of my first priorities is to begin putting myself out there and meeting new people. Although I am aware that not everyone I encounter will like me, I recognize the importance of socializing more frequently. By doing so, I hope to gradually build a support system that can help me along the way. I understand that shifting my mindset will not be easy and that it will require consistent effort, but I am committed to facing this challenge as I work toward personal growth and connection.
The Book Club
Recognizing the importance of social engagement in my life, I have made a conscious decision to join an organization. I reflected on the activities that bring me joy, and it was clear that creating art and reading are the two areas I am most passionate about. Joining an organization centered around these interests feels like the natural next step in my journey.
My first step was to investigate local art organizations. I discovered that our community has an art guild that offers events and classes. Although there are currently no classes or events that pique my interest, I plan to revisit their offerings when the schedule for next year is posted. I am hopeful that future classes will align with my creative interests and provide opportunities to connect with others who share a love for art.
Reading is another activity that I deeply enjoy, and it plays a significant role in my daily routine. I consume a large number of books, alternating between audiobooks and traditional books. At any given moment, I usually have an audiobook and a couple of physical books in progress. While I do read eBooks occasionally, I prefer the experience of holding a printed book whenever possible. Audiobooks serve as helpful background noise for me, allowing my mind to focus while I go for walks, run errands, or work on various projects. During my search for book clubs, I came across a group on Facebook that meets at The Black Swan on the first and third Wednesdays of each month. Their focus appears to be on women’s fiction, which is exactly the kind of genre I enjoy. I am excited about the prospect of joining this club, as I believe it will be a fun experience and a valuable step forward in my journey. As a bonus, if the books chosen by the group have a bit of spice, I can live vicariously through their stories—especially since my own life is currently lacking in that area.
With just one week to finish reading the next book, which happens to be “The Wedding People” by Allison Espach, I wanted to make sure I was prepared and had all the details I needed before attending. To do this, I reached out to the event coordinator for more information. My message read: “Hello, I am looking to join a book club and saw your event. Your past books look like something I would enjoy. Can you please let me know if you welcome new members?” After sending the message, I found myself anxiously waiting to see if I would receive a reply, hoping to avoid any awkwardness by simply showing up unannounced. The following morning, I was relieved to see a response in my inbox. The event coordinator replied, “Hi Lila, we would love to have you join us. Currently, we have four regular members but would love to expand our group to improve the discussion. We meet at 7 PM at The Black Swan—I am looking forward to seeing you there. Let me know if you have any questions.” Their openness and friendly response immediately put me at ease. I replied, “Thank you, I will see you next week and I am looking forward to it,” happy to know I was officially welcome to join the group.
As I prepared to read “The Wedding People,” I realized that, despite seeing various advertisements for the book, I knew very little about its storyline. I was able to locate it on my library’s eReader app and promptly checked it out, eager to begin. Initially, I assumed this would be a lighthearted, wedding-themed novel. However, it quickly became apparent that the book had a much darker tone than I expected—the main character is suicidal, which took me by surprise. I found myself speculating: if the protagonist’s struggles were resolved on the first night, the story would be quite brief unless it followed a narrative approach like “The Midnight Library” by Matt Haig. As I continue reading, I find it an interesting coincidence that one of the characters is also named Lila. I tend to be a logical person, but I know that sometimes the universe sends you a sign. I wonder if there will be any parallels between my own experiences and those depicted in the story. I am eager to see how the members of the book club interpret the novel, hoping that our discussion will uncover valuable insights and perspectives. This anticipation adds another layer of excitement to the upcoming meeting, as I look forward not only to sharing my thoughts but also to learning from the interpretations and reflections of others.
Unspoken Connections
As the evening of my first book club meeting approached, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of nerves. The anticipation was mixed with hope that the group would be friendly and open to welcoming a new member. I am aware that my personality can sometimes be a bit much, so I silently wished not to say anything too awkward or out of place.
Since the club wasn’t scheduled to begin until 7 PM, I decided to arrive early and have dinner beforehand. The Black Swan, where the meeting was being held, offers food, so it seemed like a good opportunity to eat at the bar and get a sense of the environment before the group arrived. To feel more prepared and avoid any surprises, I went online to look up the menu, wanting to know my options in advance. I prefer to enter situations with as much information as possible, rather than going in blind. I arrived at the restaurant at 5:30 PM, intentionally giving myself ample time to enjoy a meal before meeting the book club. The space was quiet, which made it easy to find a comfortable seat at the bar. After settling in, I asked the bartender for a menu.
The first thing I noticed about the bartender were his arms—strong and solid, the kind that could easily wrap someone up in a protective embrace. He seemed to be around my age and, admittedly, was quite attractive. Tall, with hazel eyes and a warm, engaging smile, he certainly provided some visual interest to the evening. Even if the book club itself ended up being uneventful, at least there would be a bit of eye candy to enjoy. While I considered my own appearance, I reminded myself that I am not unattractive, but certainly not someone who turns heads effortlessly instead I tend to blend into the crowd. I couldn’t help but think that a man who looked like him would probably never give someone like me a second thought.
Before arriving, I already had a good idea of what I wanted to order for dinner. Still, I took a moment to review the menu that was sitting on the bar - just in case there were any new additions or changes that might catch my eye. After a quick scan, I decided to order the red ale they had on draft, hoping it would give me a bit of social courage to ease into the evening. For my meal, I chose the flatbread pizza, figuring it would be an easy, low-key option that wouldn’t risk making a mess or drawing unwanted attention. I deliberately avoided ordering pasta with marinara sauce, knowing that it’s a risky choice in social settings where spills could easily happen and create an awkward moment.
After giving me time to review the menu, the bartender approached and introduced himself, saying, “Hi, my name is Alex, how can I help you today?” I placed my order with a smile, feeling a small sense of relief now that I knew his name. Wanting to keep my thoughts organized, I pulled out my notebook and glanced over the notes I had written about the book, determined not to forget any of the key points before the meeting began. When Alex returned with my beer, I took the opportunity to ask, “I am here to meet with a book club at 7 – I am new to the group, do you know where they meet?” He replied warmly, “Oh that group, they look like they have a good time and meet over in that corner by the window. I can let you know when I see them start to arrive.” Grateful for the information, I responded, “Thank you – I appreciate it. I enjoyed the book so excited for the discussion.” Alex smiled, and I noticed the crinkle in his nose as he said, “No problem,” before walking away. At least now I knew exactly where to go when the others arrived. When my food came, I ate and found it decent, feeling glad that I had decided to come early and get settled before the meeting began.
At around 6:45 PM, people began to arrive for the meeting. I picked up my second beer, trying to steady my nerves, and made my way over to the table to introduce myself. With a deep breath, I hoped that everything would go smoothly. Spotting the first member as she walked in—a woman who appeared to be in her early 30s and radiated a genuinely cheerful energy—I approached and asked, “Hi, is this the book club?” She smiled warmly and replied, “Oh, welcome! I’m so glad you could join us. My name is Hannah, and you must be Lila. I was the one you messaged about attending.” Her friendliness immediately helped put me at ease. “It’s nice to meet you,” I responded, relieved by her welcoming demeanor. Hannah mentioned that three more members would be joining us that evening, promising a lively discussion. Soon after, two more women arrived - Josie and Olivia. They greeted me, introduced themselves, and took their seats before ordering drinks. Finally, the last member appeared, and to my surprise, it was a man. He introduced himself as Marcus. He looked to be about my age, probably in his early 40s, and entered the room with a bright smile and an enthusiastic greeting for everyone.
As everyone settled in around the table, Hannah broke the ice by asking, “So, what did you all think about Phoebe’s journey after her world completely unraveled?” Josie leaned forward, her eyes bright with empathy. “I found her story relatable. Even though her reaction and why she came to the hotel was dramatic, that sense of starting over hit close to home. Sometimes I wonder if, like Phoebe, I’m waiting for some big event to force me to change.” Marcus nodded, sipping his drink. “Yeah, I also noticed the contrast of how Phoebe couldn’t ask for what she wants vs Lila who kept looking for people to fix things for her. I think a lot of us fall into one of those two traps. That if we don’t ask for what we want it will keep people happy or that hoping someone will just come along and make everything better. Either way we lose ourselves, like both Pheobe and Lila did.” Olivia chimed in, her tone thoughtful, “What stood out to me was how isolated Phoebe felt, especially after her marriage ended and even her cat was gone. I get that—being alone can make you question who you really are. But I admired how she started to build relationships outside of those old expectations.” Lila, feeling a bit more comfortable, added, “I liked the moment when Phoebe befriended someone new and started being herself, not just playing a role. It reminded me of why I joined this club—to find genuine connection, not just keep up appearances.” The group paused, each member reflecting on how the book’s themes echoed their own lives, and the conversation deepened, weaving personal stories with insights from the book.
A Spark Ignites
After the uplifting experience at my first book club meeting, I felt a newfound sense of encouragement that carried me through the rest of the week. Riding on that high, I woke up Saturday morning determined to finally do something meaningful with my art. I reminded myself that it was important to accept that not every attempt would turn out as I imagined—and that it was the journey, not the destination, that truly mattered. Even though I could tell myself these things, believing them was another challenge entirely. The struggle between my logical and emotional mind was ongoing, and I found myself caught between the two.
The hardest part proved to be figuring out where to start. With so many half-finished projects and ideas scattered around, I felt overwhelmed by the sheer volume of possibilities. Taking a deep breath, I began by sorting all my projects into categories. Among them were several pieces of wall art and an assortment of candle holders. Yet, as I looked at each one, nothing truly resonated with me. I liked the pieces in theory—they all just needed a bit of work to finish—but each was missing something intangible, something I couldn’t quite identify or explain.
In hopes of rediscovering my creative spark, I decided to revisit my old projects to see which ones were my favorites. I wanted to understand what made those pieces special, and to see if there was an element that interconnected everything I had created. Although I hadn’t taken high-quality photographs of my work, I was grateful to have a few images stored on my cell phone. By reviewing what I had genuinely enjoyed making in the past, I hoped to find guidance for where to direct my creative energy next.
Critique & Courage
Being an introvert, putting myself out there has been hard. Social interactions don’t come naturally, so she decides to create a website and social media to share her art.
There is a fear of not being able to consistently post and a fear of internet trolls and negative criticism.
Building Connections
Attending Book Club - Continuing to get to know the other members better and more about them.
Since there was time between work and book club, she arrived early and started to talk to the bartender - Alex. She found him attractive, but her own prejudice against just being a bartender caused her to keep it superficial. There is also her own insecurity that someone that attractive may even be interested in someone like her.
The Old Voices Return
She submits her work to a local show and is rejected - She questions her talent and her anxiety spirals
Echoes of her mother’s doubts, triggering a relapse in insecurity causing her to doubt herself and regress.
Continuing to journal to undercover the deeper roots of her insecurities and negative beliefs.
A Helping Hand
She finds encouragement in unexpected places - talking Alex before book she discovers that there is more to him the she originally thought. It turns out that he is also an artist and has gone through rejection too, and encourages her to keep trying.
The other group members also offer support, deepens the friendship.
The Turning Point
More work in therapy and through journals. she re-commits to prioritizing self-compassion over societal approval.
She works on Cognitive Shifts – Practicing CBT exercises
Work – I got the best news today. The coworker from hell got a new position and is moving on and out. The sense of relief is palatable. I don’t even care if it is promotion as long as she is gone!
Romance Revisited
Book Club: Relating to heroines in novels like The Kiss Quotient
Discussion on the challenges of being neurodivergent and dating. (Does she know yet?)
Hidden Talents
She experiments with a new medium, discovering a unique style that excites her and not letting the rejection cause her to give up.
Decides to really put the effort in on a new collection for another upcoming show, but there is a short deadline to prepare.
Work-Life Collision
Her job demands increase, making it hard to balance work and art - since to be ready in time she would need to take some vacation days.
She considers quitting creating art since it is hard to find a struggle for balance.
Extra challenging since Alice has just moved to her new position and hasn’t been back filled.