on confidence and self love and the friends who matter

friendsgiving dispatch & a recipe for you, dear reader

Hey, stranger.

There is a long list in my Notes app of the little joys in life. Fourth down, accented with about five exclamation points, is new clothes!!!!! Which should be obvious if you know me in real life or have read any of my past writing. The other day, after a long day in the office, I came home to two packages and ripped them open in what can only be described as a frenzy. I had friends coming over for dinner the next day and a gallery event that night so these packages were vestibules of potential— was I going to discover a new favorite item of my closet? Spoiler alert: I did.

Later in the evening, my friends and I were walking up Main Street in the downpour, our heads ducked against the droplets. I wore a pair of red flats, dark wash jeans, white tank top, a vintage J. Crew blazer I got in Seattle, and my new black oval glasses courtesy of said doorstep packages. I felt gloriously chic, endlessly myself, and excited about the night.

There is a past version of myself that would have spent the night feeling insecure.

I am 23 and I know everything and nothing and I am easily intimidated by people I think might be cooler or smarter or prettier than me. I am not proud of this fact but I suppose there is no reason to lie. It is, after all, a truth that has lingered for as long as I can remember. Until this particular night. There was nothing special about this Friday other than my day starting at 6 a.m (death to everyone who boasts about a 5-9 before their 9-5) and the packages arriving that sent my serotonin levels skyrocketing into dangerous territory.

Coming in from the rain, my friends and I walked into the gallery, congratulated our friend on his work (which was fantastic, might I add) and went to hunt for drinks. It was the sort of environment an older version of me might have felt uncomfortable in. A lot of interesting, artistic, cool people in one room? Oh, I’d panic. But for whatever reason, I felt good the entire night. Good in a way that made me feel stable, grounded.

It was the 2nd time that day that I felt this way. The first was at a work event where I was surrounded by people who, objectively, are smarter than me. PhD’s in physics, math, biology, you get the picture. And yet, still, I felt solid and secure. There was not even a whisper of anxiety floating through me of am I good enough to be in this room? And because I’m nothing if not a gold medalist navel gazer, I suspected something had changed and I wanted to get to the bottom of it.

Confidence is a fickle, testy thing. A lot of the time people are faking it— a highly effective approach— and the rest of the time, confidence seems like a secret that only some people know. I would like to think I’m good at faking it and great at gaining confidence little by little, year by year. It’s standing on two feet feeling completely stable. It’s leaving a party and not thinking twice about what you said, how you behaved. It’s being completely, utterly present. I pride myself on my ability to force confidence even when I don’t feel it but at the gallery, I wasn’t faking. Neither at work or at pilates when I’m forced to look at myself in the mirror or at coffee with a new friend. This change feels good, like I’ve finally made it into the secret club of cool, older women I’ve always to be.

The change, dear reader, is all because of who I have in my corner. Or rather that I’m finally paying attention to my corner and the people that have been there all along or are recent additions. I have always been frightfully talented at making friends with good people. People who are unique and interesting and different from each other, who are kind and patient and love easily. It’s a gift I did nothing to achieve, but I have had the luxury of having very few friendships end. The people I choose, choose me back. And that is the secret to it all.

When I am at work and spend a good amount of time saying I don’t know what that is, can you explain it to me? I no longer feel embarrassed by it. My friends think I’m smart so who cares what someone else thinks?

I hosted a friendsgiving and even though I hate thanksgiving, it meant a great deal to me that everyone cooked for eachother. We played games and I toasted the dinner with a shot of vodka and 3 of us wore the same outfit and I fell asleep with a stomach ache from laughing so hard. How could I feel scared when I know that those are the people who love me?

At the art show, I had a few of my favorite people with me and my attention was so focused on being with them, there wasn’t time to worry if everyone around me was more talented or interesting. There was no one in the room I’d rather be spending time with other than my friends. Even though I was wearing new delicious clothes and felt good, the confidence was because of the company. What else could I possibly need?

It’s almost 1am in Seattle while I’m editing this and I’ve just come back from dinner at Cafe Lago with my favorite people in this city. Tomorrow we are going to drink the 5$ margaritas with Everclear from Ranchos Bravo and dance at our favorite clubs and take the train home, arm in arm. What more could I want? Why worry about what anyone else other than these people think of me?

As a teenager, I was a bit of a brat. Mom, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry for being snarly. All I wanted to do was hang out with my friends and I hated anything that got in the way of that. It was meaningful to me to be seen and at the time, the girls I ate lunch with and went to practice with and had sleepovers with were the only ones who did.

Approaching 24 (gag), I am no longer a brat and feel seen by a great deal more people. My friends have transformed from a lifeline to a privilege. I’m proud of the people I surround myself with. Nothing can touch me while I have such a solid group of people behind me, cheering me on. If I am half as good of a friend to anyone the way that mine are to me, I consider that a great achievement.

Confidence can come from internal means, certainly, but there is a strength in knowing that you are constantly surrounded by the glow of the people you choose to be around. A true test of friendship is your reaction to if anyone met one of your friends and were to form an opinion of you based on them. Would you be happy about that? If not, you might need to find new ones. There are billions of people out there and most of them are lovely.

Happy Being Thankful week to all who celebrate. Last year, I wrote a very cringey (to me) piece on turning 23 and not loving myself. I will not link it here because I can’t read it without wincing. If there is one thing I’m thankful for this year it is that I do love myself this time. Partly because I’ve grown and partly because I’ve started paying attention to who loves me back. None of my friends are idiots and if they find me worthy of spending time with, then they must be on to something. And I am very grateful for you, wherever you are, for reading and spending time with me each week. Love you!

xoxo,

Evie

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Evie’s Mom’s Delectable Egg Casserole

6 eggs, cracked and whisked just enough to combine yolks and whites.

2 cups cubed ham, I usually get deli cut and slice into small squares.

3 cups or 1 bag frozen shredded hashbrowns

1 cup pepper jack cheese

1 can evaporated milk

1/2 cup green onions, diced

1 tub of red salsa (and/or green if you prefer)

1/4 tsp salt

1/4 tsp black pepper

1/4 tsp onion powder

1. Grease a large baking dish.

2. Spread the frozen hashbrowns evenly along the bottom of the dish.

3. Sprinkle ham, cheese, and onions in even layers. Cover with a healthy spread of salsa and/or hot sauce.

4. In a separate bowl, whisk together eggs, milk, salt, pepper, onion powder. When combined, poor over baking dish.

5. Bake at 350° for 45 minutes or until center is set (sometimes takes a full hour).

6. Serve with hot sauce and avocado.

This is a Goodman holiday special and can be eaten as is or in between English muffins or as egg bites (make it a muffin tin). Enjoy!