🎧 Listen like a podcast, on Spotify, or read the full post below. ⬇️

Many of us seem to be searching for a distraction this week. Maybe it’s Mercury or the on/off tease of spring, but paying attention to the present moment feels like the last thing anyone wants to do. Maybe we should drink more wine? Seriously! While I would never suggest you drown your sorrows in a syrupy Syrah, I do think mindful wine consumption could help you notice what’s right in front of you, especially if you’re drinking a glass of pét-nat. Pét what you say? Pét-nat is short for Pétillant-Naturel, the casual cousin of sparkling wines like Champagne. They have less fizz, more funk, and make even the most stuck in the muds sit up and say, “What’s this?” I recently opened a bottle of Swick Wines City Pop Pét-Nat at a bonfire and surprised a few friends with its crunchy bubbles and citrusy tang. The low ABV makes it perfect for celebrating the simple things in life, like making it to Thursday or being an adult. If you want help finding a bottle, text me, and I'll connect you with an Other Peoples Approved retailer near you! ( 🇺🇲 313.825.4670 or 🇨🇦 647.370.6832 )

Enough about wine; let’s get back to distractions! The last couple of weeks have reminded me how often I rely on an especially pernicious distraction - fear. Like I’ve used cigarettes or alcohol in the past, I regularly use fear to distract me from the present moment. I’ll sit frozen, dreaming up fearful scenarios of my boss criticizing my slow response to emails instead of taking action and answering the damn emails. Or sometimes I obsessively check a particular dating app for fear of missing a match instead of going outside for a run or grabbing a glass of wine like my profile suggests I do. It’s tempting to think these fear-based actions are proof of my diligent work ethic or commitment to forging a healthy relationship, but I know better. They’re just evidence that fear, like many addictive substances, is just another thing I use to avoid the oh-so-scary task of living life.

Two of the recent tough questions brought to mind more examples of how fearful thinking, or a lack thereof, has impacted my life. When asked, “What's the best evening you've ever had?” I, like many of you, bristled at the idea of putting one night above all others. Ranking my evenings felt like a fool’s errand, but recalling them put a smile on my face. As I pondered my most memorable nights, I realized many lacked that otherwise common component of my life - you guessed it - fear! These were the times I threw caution to the wind and asked a stranger their name, accepted a spontaneous invitation, or danced like no one was watching; moments when I stopped worrying about what was next and enjoyed the people, sounds, and sites around me.

As my fearless fever dream of memories faded, I remembered one of the other tough questions and asked myself, “What's something you regret not doing due to fear?” Errrr, I don’t like the word regret as It feels too permanent and pessimistic for my Piscean nature, but I’ll admit there are things in my life I wish I’d handled more skillfully. Unfortunately, most of these involve the people closest to me. Fear of disappointing the people we love can often lead us to say or do hurtful things. Thankfully, the heartache of the examples I’ll share has mostly given way to personal growth and improved the relationships in question.

Without further explanation, here are three things I delayed doing out of fear that I wish I’d done sooner:

#1 - Involving my mother in my love life.

I know that sounds weird, but let me explain! Before I came out to my mom, there was often an awkward pause or quick goodbye that punctuated our conversations whenever the topic of love or relationships threatened to come up. When I finally confirmed I was gay, her heartfelt embrace was difficult to accept, given I was still hiding the fact that I had fallen in love and was soon to be engaged. She was clearly hurt as the news unraveled, likely because she’d done her best to be a loving and supportive parent. In the years that followed, I avoided talking about my relationship for fear of disappointing her yet again. The pressures of the last year pushed me to find the courage to speak about dating and relationships with my mother, and it’s been a relief! I’m not sure my love life would have turned out dramatically differently had I involved her in it sooner, but I sure am glad I’m doing it now!

#2 - Telling my ex-husband I was struggling in our relationship.

Blah blah blah, another story about his divorce. Maybe by the end of this tough question challenge, I’ll have released some of my insecurity surrounding the divorce. Till then, you’ll have to endure semi-regular snark about my split. I remember pacing around the apartment three or four years into my marriage, asking myself WTF I was doing with my life. The relationship patterns I had developed as a kid weren’t proving as helpful two and a half decades down the road, and cracks were starting to show. Despite describing my husband as my best friend, I didn’t share my struggles with him for fear of failing our relationship. I assumed if he knew I was having a hard time, he wouldn’t want to be with me anymore. By the time I did open up, a million tiny wedges had driven us irrevocably apart. Although we did split up, my speaking up sparked a healthier form of communication that helped things end on a more amicable note. Fingers crossed, I find the courage to start my next relationship with such open communication.

#3 - Developing compassion for myself.

At first, I didn’t think this was important enough to include. I took that as a sign it really did belong on the list. It feels like I’m still learning what it means to be kind to myself and not criticize my every effort. Compassion seems like something to give children and puppies, not grown-ass adults like me. People praise my attention to detail and ambitious nature, but both those qualities are grounded in relentless self-recrimination and my fixation on constantly proving I’m good enough. I’ve found it easier to empathize with others in recent years and appreciate their efforts, but I’m rarely so generous with the man staring back at me in the mirror. Just last week, I caught myself saying, “That’s okay, Michael, you’re doing your best,” and almost cried. That’s how uncommon such self-acceptance is in my life! I’m still working through how to have compassion for myself without losing my edge, so you’ll have to stay tuned to see how this one plays out.  

It feels weird to classify any of these things as a regret, per se, but they are all personal failures I’m happy to be learning from. I share my feelings more, make fewer assumptions about what other people will think, and am a little less hard on myself, especially when the road gets bumpy. Fear will likely get the best of me at times in the future, but I’m confident the skills and courage I’ve developed in response to these struggles, alongside the sheer delight of the fearless nights I’ve experienced, will help me manage those moments better when they come. If not, at least I’ll have pét-nat to keep me company! Joking, not joking.

If you have any tips on saying f-you to fear or want to try that bubbly bottle of wine I described, text me! ( 🇺🇲 313.825.4670 or 🇨🇦 647.370.6832 ) I’m off to figure out the number of carbs in one square of dark chocolate before I say screw it and eat the whole damn bar. Until we talk again, I hope you'll keep being curious enough to ask questions, find the courage to answer them, and if the stars will allow, have the audacity to give a damn about other people's answers too!

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit otherpeoples.substack.com

🎧 Listen like a podcast, on Spotify, or read the full post below. ⬇️

I’ve been trying to embrace the silence in conversations lately. Unfortunately, most people just assume my Zoom has frozen. One thing I refuse to be silent about is the bottle of salty Albariño my favorite shopkeeper gave me! Produced by Lagar de Pintos, a 4th generation estate in Spain run by Martha Castro, it features a windswept, coastal vibe that nearly knocked me off my feet. Its punch of peach cut by lemon peel and the aforementioned salinity had me smacking my lips between bites of a capers-laden pasta I made last weekend. Most of my recent wine consumption has been decidedly domestic, but as the world slowly opens, it seems fitting to let my inebriative influences follow. If you want to get your hands on a bottle of this Galician beauty, text me, and I'll connect you with an Other Peoples Approved retailer near you! ( 🇺🇲 313.825.4670 or 🇨🇦 647.370.6832 )

While the last couple of weeks have loosened my wine rules, they seem to have tightened up my tough question game. Recent queries have inspired surprisingly succinct answers from me, given my propensity for long-winded responses. Questions like, “How good are you at taking criticism?” prompted me to say little more than, “Not great.” Usually, I’d refuse to let such short answers suffice, but in this case, they felt right. I don’t have to have a long answer for everything. Remembering this seemed to spark an explosion of other I don’t have to’s that I’ve outlined below more as a reminder for me than a directive for you. Maybe they’ll encourage you to consider what things in life you’re okay NOT doing.

#1: I don’t have to obsess over things.

* At work, my detail-oriented nature comes in handy. It drives me to double-check spelling, consider additional points of view, and diligently manage the scope, timeline, and deliverables of complex projects. In life and love, however, it often gets me into trouble. I find myself dissecting every word, spoken and unspoken, and getting lost in past ruminations or future worries instead of recognizing my present reality. Reminding myself I don’t have to obsess over everything, especially the text of an ex or Insta post of a crush, has helped cool my jets and connect me to the things actually in my control.

#2: I don’t have to shame myself.

* Part of the intention behind starting Other Peoples was to force me to answer the endless questions I ask others. As I’ve found the courage to describe who I am and what I want, I’ve been surprised by the shame that’s bubbled up around my answers. If my response to a tough question doesn’t seem to vibe with the person I think I’m supposed to be, I feel ashamed. “C’mon, Michael, you should know better!” is something I tell myself often. But I don’t have to do that! I can accept my answers instead of judging them and release the self-imposed shame that has held me back in the past.

#3: I don’t have to prove I’m good enough.

* Unexpectedly moving home at the beginning of the pandemic brought me face to face with a contentious part of my personality. I’ve often labeled my inclination to help others as a positive attribute. Unfortunately, my acts of service are often an attempt to make people happy because I think that’s what I have to do to show I’m good enough to be loved. Helping others isn’t inherently wrong, but the intention behind that help can be problematic. Telling myself I don’t have to prove my worth hasn’t immediately resolved my self-esteem issues or erased my co-dependent patterns. Still, it’s a meaningful step towards embodying Rupaul’s increasingly ubiquitous quote, “If you can’t love yourself, how the hell you gonna love somebody else?”

What things in life could you gently remind yourself you don’t have to do? A word of warning - there are some things you don’t have to do, but really should do, like the laundry or the dishes. I may have learned that the hard way this week. Okay, I’m off to take a short walk to the fridge and pour myself another glass of that Albariño I mentioned - hit me up on the SMS if you want help finding a bottle! ( 🇺🇲 313.825.4670 or 🇨🇦 647.370.6832 )

Until we talk again, I hope you'll keep being curious enough to ask questions, find the courage to answer them, and if the CDC allows it, have the audacity to give a damn about other people's answers too!

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit otherpeoples.substack.com

🎧 Listen like a podcast, on Spotify, or read the full post below. ⬇️

Am I the only one that watched the movie Half Baked starring Snoop Dogg and Bob Saget before ever getting high? Let’s just say I did not get it.

Do you know what else I don’t get? Rosé! Why does everybody like it? It’s usually so sweet and gives me a headache, which is why I was dubious of Source & Sink’s 2018 Rosé. Boy, was I in for a surprise! Aaron and Rande of Source & Sink have gone to great lengths to elevate this much-maligned category of wine. After sourcing 100% cabernet sauvignon grapes from a single vineyard in California, they aged them in amphora, which look like large clay pots, made from the same sun-kissed soil that supported those vines. The result is more zippy peach than sickly strawberry and as dry as the desert heat. If you think it’s not warm enough for rosé, get over yourself and grab a bottle. The only trouble is they might have sold through this vintage, but if you text me, I might just send one your way. ( 🇺🇲 313.825.4670 or 🇨🇦 647.370.6832 )

I was going to apologize for not posting a recap two weeks ago and explain how shameful I felt for not meeting the expectations I had set for myself, but honestly, who cares? Let's move on and talk about the tough questions you all answered over the last two weeks. One, in particular, turned out to be a real head-scratcher! Many of you jumped in to respond when I asked what’s the kindest thing anyone’s done for you, but few of you actually answered the question! Most admitted it was hard to rate one kind act above all others, and I agree. How do you say something a friend did once is more kind than the endless number of things your family has done over the years? Will my boyfriend be mad if I say the kindness of a stranger means more than all his grand romantic gestures? Guess I’ll have to get a boyfriend and find out! 

While this question was tough to answer, it easily stirred up a sense of gratitude for all the nice things people have done for me. I couldn’t choose just one, so I’ve decided to share a few of the things that have proved most memorable as of late. 

In no particular order, here are five of the kindest things people have done for me:

#1 - Let me sleep on their couch.

After a year of working from picturesque rooftops in Istanbul, I got the itch to come back to the States and get my hands dirty again working with startups. Instead of doing the responsible thing and waiting for a job offer to move, I spent six months bouncing between cities, countries, and continents, cashing in airline miles, and taking interviews as they came. Friends cleared off their couch cushions and feigned surprise as I explained why I was returning from my grand European adventure after just one year.

While I tried to maintain an optimistic appearance, inside, I was scared. I had upheaved my life for the third or fourth time in as many years, and the glass half full facade was starting to crack. I’m not sure how many people saw that, but no one made me feel bad when I asked for help. Considering the isolated nature of the last year, those six months seem like a dream, and I feel incredibly grateful for the friends that kindly let me sleep on their couch.

#2 - Gave me a job.

My current boss is also my former boss and the first person to give me a chance in the world of startups and venture capital. We met on Twitter, and I pestered him with lengthy emails until he gave me a job. I don’t think either of us knew what we were getting into, but we somehow managed to build a sense of trust that persists to this day. He’s seen me cry, heard me laugh, and wondered why I never eat lunch at work. There are few people I’d rather have in a literal or metaphorical firefight. He’s set a high bar for anyone I work with in the future to reach, and I’m thankful he gave me a job (twice)!

#3 - Visited my grandma.

My friend Emily and I are both only children from farm families who spent a lot of time with our grandmas growing up. It was heartbreaking to see Emily’s Grandma Rose pass away before seeing her fall in love, get married, or have her first child. My Grandma Jeannie is a pain in the ass, but I’m grateful she’s still alive and swearing. Somewhere along the way, I had the bright idea to take Emily along on a visit to her, and they became fast friends. While I lived far away and only visited a couple of times a year, Emily stopped by weekly. They would Facetime me and make the most insane Snapchat videos. I’m not sure I fully appreciate how much those visits meant to them, but they meant the world to me. 

#4 - Ignored me.

After my divorce, I assumed the typical division of friends would happen. I wasn’t wrong. Being in San Francisco during the split, far from our mutual friends in Toronto, seemed to lessen the blow, but it was hard. When a couple of close friends visited my ex, we did a wine tasting together, which was fun if a bit odd. Before they flew home, I begged my friend Julie to meet me for coffee. I wanted to tell her how much our friendship had meant over the last ten years and let her know I would always love her even though I knew we probably wouldn’t see each other much anymore. Julie had other plans. 

Each time I tried to say goodbye, she found a way to deflect. I think at one point, she just said ‘no.’ She made us leave the coffee shop before I was able to break up with her or finish my espresso. We hugged just long enough to avoid bursting into tears, and I walked home in an anti-climatic stupor. A few weeks later, Julie called to catch up like normal. A few weeks after that, we talked again. We started having wine-fueled calls with her husband Mike laughing in the background. Julie refused to let me give up on our friendships because of something as stupid as a divorce. I’ll be forever grateful for her ignoring my attempts to break up with her.    

#5 - Adopted my cats.

Some of you might judge me for this one, and that’s okay.

When I decided to leave San Francisco for Europe, I didn’t know where I’d end up. I assumed I’d zig-zag between startup cities like Berlin and Paris for at least a year as I built a VC consultancy. Bringing my two cats, Cora and Leo, along for the ride didn’t seem plausible, so I tried to find a friend or family member to take them in. No one agreed. A week before my departure, I made what still feels like the hardest decision of my life and took my two precious cats to a rather chic adoption center in San Francisco. Saying goodbye for the last time, knowing they would never understand because they're cats, was excruciating. 

I don’t know who adopted them, but I am sure whoever fell for Cora and Leo has a big heart. They must have seen Leo’s curious nose and turned up ears. I’m sure they saw past Cora’s shyness and messy fur. They might think I’m a monster for giving up such sweet cats, and I admit I’ve often felt like I am. I couldn’t give them the stable life they deserved and am hopeful they found it with a new family. I’ll never get to tell them, but they did one of the kindest things anyone has ever done for me.

Well, that was honestly pretty heartwarming! Text me if you have any feedback or want to grab one of the few bottles of Rosé I mentioned! I swear I won’t leave you on ‘read.’ ( 🇺🇲 313.825.4670 or 🇨🇦 647.370.6832 )

I’m off to sheepishly ask my upstairs neighbor if they really must jump rope before 8 am every morning. Until we talk again, I hope you'll keep being curious enough to ask questions, find the courage to answer them, and even if you don’t have the guts to drink Rosé out of season, have the audacity to give a sh*t about other people's answers too!

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit otherpeoples.substack.com

🎧 Listen like a podcast, on Spotify, or read the full post below. ⬇️

It probably goes without saying, but I ask a lot of questions. Mostly because I'm curious about other people, but also because I’m scared to answer them myself. I’m worried I won’t say the right thing. In this case, the right thing is defined as whatever will make the other person happy. That's a habit I learned as a kid. Unfortunately, when I focus on making someone else happy, we both end up unhappy in the end. Part of the impetus for starting Other Peoples was to flip that habit ln its head and practice saying what I want for a change. Describing what I think would make me happy still feels gross, like I'm doing something bad. But if Rihanna can be bad, then so can I! So, this week, instead of telling you what I think you should be drinking, I'm going to tell you what I'm going to be drinking. 

It just so happens to be my birthday this week, and I'm going to celebrate with homemade pizza and a bottle of Julie Balagny’s 2018 En Remont. I need to stop picking wine bottles that force me to butcher the French language. This bottle has been taunting me for months. Each time I catch a glimpse of it, my mind wanders to the steeps slopes of Fleurie and the permaculture-filled paradise I imagine Balagny’s vineyard to be. Her En Remont is made from Gamay, like so many of the wines from Beaujolais, but it’s far from the sickly-sweet or astringent versions you may have been turned off by in the past.  It’s hand-harvested from vines more than twice my age and promises a subtle lingering like the early spring sunrises we’ve been teased with as of late. I can’t help but smile when I think of pouring a glass to go with the far-from-refined Detroit-style pizza I’ll be making for my birthday. Finding a bottle of this in your local shop won’t be as easy as some of the other wines I’ve recommended but text me if you’re up for the challenge, and I’ll see if I can conjure some magic with an Other Peoples Approved shop near you! ( 🇺🇲 313.825.4670 or 🇨🇦 647.370.6832 )

In keeping with today’s theme, I figured it’d be fun to reveal my answers to the recent tough questions, if for no other reason than to show that I’m right there with you facing the challenge each week. While it might be boring or, at worst narcissistic, I hope it’s a reminder that sharing what you think is a risk worth taking, even if you look a little foolish in the end.

Without further ado, let’s jump into the questions! 

If we asked childhood you what job you wanted to do, what would you say?

A veterinarian. I know that sounds like the most stereotypical thing for a little gay farmboy to say, but it's true. I have a vivid memory of standing in the barn and watching with fascination as a veterinarian tended to one of our sheep. I also remember my Dad seeing this and saying, “Look, he must want to be a vet when he grows up.” There’s a good chance that childhood dream had more to do with pleasing Dad than with anything else. Regardless, it quickly vanished when I realized veterinarians often spend more time managing unruly owners than they do tending needy animals. I'm still not sure I know what I want to be when I grow up these days. There is a sense of purpose beating in my cold heart, even if it isn’t linked to a succinct five-year plan. Not knowing what I’m doing has led to so many exciting adventures in my life that I’m not too stressed about figuring it out anytime soon.

Describe an important teacher in your life - outside school?

The first person that came to mind was Linda Garneau, a dancer and choreographer in Toronto I crossed paths with in theater school. Yes, my parents paid good money to turn me into the charismatic creature I am today. Linda was never my teacher but always inspired me to lean into generous and creative impulses. We weren’t peers per se either, but she always welcomed me into her work and was one of the first people who seemed to suggest that my opinion mattered.

If you had to choose between a happy home life and mediocre career, or a successful career and mediocre home life, which would you choose?

This feels like a trick question! At first glance, a happy home life seems like the answer I’m supposed to give. Every self-care influencer I follow on Instagram would suggest as much. But I know how the dull ache of dissatisfaction with your career can darken an otherwise happy home, and it’s hard for me to believe that anyone who said they had a happy home life would call their career mediocre. I may be getting caught up in the semantics, but happy doesn’t seem to be the opposite of mediocre. And do you decide if my career is mediocre? Maybe your mediocre is my mind-blowingly amazing! Without rewriting the question, I’ll cheat and say I want both a happy home life and a successful career. It’s probably delusional to think I can have both, but some of the best things in my life have been driven by delusion. If success is defined by my satisfaction at work, asking for both feels like a very reasonable request.

If you had to live somewhere else, where would you live?

Breakout your rusty trombone and hand me a little fringed umbrella because we’re headed to the Big Easy. Randomness led me to spend the first two years of university in New Orleans, a city I was not prepared for in the least. Returning much later in life has given me a new appreciation for the laissez-faire attitude that permeates the humid, sometimes heavy air of New Orleans. Bourbon Street doesn't appeal to me, but the hidden corners of the French Quarter and weeping willows of Audobon Park are excellent fodder for my over-active imagination. This question has been on my mind a lot lately, and there’s a good chance I’ll be putting my answer to the test in the Fall.

I think that’s enough about me for now. I’m grateful you offered me a chance to practice acknowledging what I want in life. I'm off to make pizza dough that's going to ferment for three days before it bakes to a buttery crisp crust which should pair perfectly with that bottle of Gamay I mentioned. If you have any feedback or want help finding said bottle, text me! ( 🇺🇲 313.825.4670 or 🇨🇦 647.370.6832 )

Until we talk again, I hope you'll keep being curious enough to ask questions, find the courage to answer them, and what the heck, even have the audacity to give a sh*t about other people's answers too!

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit otherpeoples.substack.com

🎧 Listen like a podcast, on Spotify, or read the full post below. ⬇️

It seems like there's always someone or something telling me, "Why bother? You're just going to fail anyway." More often than not, it's me stopping myself before I've even begun. That little voice in the back of my head asking, "Do you honestly think people want to hear your wine recommendations?" Probably not, but I bring them to you every week anyway, and this week, I think you should be drinking a bottle of Forlorn Hope's 2013 Nacré Sémillon.

I opened this bottle without looking at the label, and the first sip had me asking, "What is this?!" I don't know how to pronounce the grape name correctly, but I know it gave me seriously sophisticated, lemon-lime soda vibes. I ended up pacing around my apartment, poppin' olives and munching on parm as if spring had already sprung and there wasn't still inches of snow on the ground. That might be because the wine was made in the style of those from Australia's Hunter Valley. After all, spring brings a sense of new things being possible, and Australia is the land of possibilities. Or is that Minneapolis? Ugh, I always forget. Anyway, text me if you'd like help finding a bottle at an Other Peoples Approved retailer near you. Yes, even in Canada! ( 🇺🇲 313.825.4670 or 🇨🇦 647.370.6832 )

You know that little voice in the back of my head I mentioned? Well, right now, it’s screaming, “You don’t have enough analytical or leadership experience!” It stole that line from an email I received this morning saying I wouldn’t be moving on to the next round of interviews for a job I was starting to think I really wanted. Rational Michael knows one person’s opinion does not define me, but irrational little Mikie wants to ruminate, ravage the snack drawer, and run away from the world. Eating a bar of dark chocolate and binging two episodes of Law & Order won’t make things better, but that seems easier than processing the big emotions coursing through my veins. Plus, years of embracing this kind of self-sabotage have prepared me to deal with the post-binge shame, whereas I feel much less equipt to manage the doubt and disappointment I assume will follow facing my fears head-on. 

This cycle was a bit more blatant when I was young, like going out the night before an exam or putting off writing a paper till the last moment. As I've grown older, I’ve learned to disguise my self-sabotage in sheep's clothing. A few examples:

* Focusing on others' needs instead of my own.

* Hiding behind productivity hacks like Inbox Zero instead of finishing a presentation that could move the needle at work. 

* Asking others what they want instead of answering that question for myself.

Some people would suggest I’ve got a fear of success. Possibly, but perhaps it goes deeper. I regularly tell myself that even if I succeed, it still won’t be enough because deep down, I’m a loser, and eventually, everyone will figure that out. I probably sound like a broken record, as this is the third time I’ve mentioned such thoughts in a recap. I might be running out of pseudo-vulnerable things to say, or maybe everything that’s wrong with me stems from the same self-imposed narrative. Can both be true?

Either way, I haven’t found a consistent way to combat self-sabotage, but your answers to a recent tough question might hold the secret. I asked you to describe a memorable taste or smell and what it means to you. Some of you transported me to a different time and place with your description of a scent! That got me thinking about how I might build a new habit to help break my cycles of self-doubt. Could I pull myself out of a downward spiral by lighting a candle or spritzing on my favorite cologne? If smelling salts can bring back a boxer after an especially brutal blow, maybe some incense can trigger me to put down the Tinder when I feel lonely and call a close friend instead.

None of those tricks would address my self-sabotage's root cause, but at least they wouldn’t reinforce it. Given how well-worn these thought patterns are, I’m not sure it’s helpful to think they’ll ever go away for good. Regardless, voicing them feels like a step in the right direction. Ideally, I’d like to drop the self-doubt and keep the dark chocolate, but that might be asking too much. Got any tips or tricks you’ve found helpful to keep yourself on the up and up? Text me to share or to let me know you want to conjure spring with the bottle of Forlorn Hope I mentioned. Standard messaging rates may apply, but I haven’t had any complaints yet :) ( 🇺🇲 313.825.4670 or 🇨🇦 647.370.6832 )

I’m off to investigate an Instagram ad for a ‘boy smells’ candle. I think it’s in my best interest to inquire which smell is coming from the boy before paying $32 for a hunk of wax. Until we talk again, I hope you’ll keep being curious enough to ask questions, find the courage to answer them, and for the love of Britney, have the audacity to give a sh*t about other people's answers too!

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit otherpeoples.substack.com

🎧 Listen like a podcast, on Spotify, or read the full post below ⬇️

Romance is HARD, am I right?! 

You know what's not hard?

Deciding what wine to drink this week! What'd you think I was going to say?

Get your mind out of the gutter, loosen the elastic on those sweatpants, and grab a bottle of Source & Sink's 2019 Red Blend. Why's it gotta be red?! Well, because that bloody massacre of a commercial holiday we just survived is irrevocably linked to that color. Also, because this wine is good! It's honest. It's so California. LOL. That sounds so pretentious. It's what fancy folks call 'terroir,' or the way wine can represent both the grape and the ground it was grown in. It's hard not to taste the soft, sunny slopes of Sonoma in this blend of Zinfandel, Petite Sirah, and Alicante Bouschet. Aaron and Rande, the winemakers, are two cool cats that grew up in Chicago, fell in love with wine in California, and are making no b******t bottles I'd be happy to open any night of the week. And at only $25, it's PRACTICALLY FREE! Text me, and I'll help you find a bottle at an Other Peoples Approved shop near you! ( 🇺🇲 313.825.4670 or 🇨🇦 647.370.6832 )

I should probably get out more. Or maybe I should stay in and enjoy some of the simple pleasures you all called out in your answers to tough questions this week! It's lovely to realize how many of us appreciate sitting silently sipping a cup of coffee in the morning. How is it that those moments feel so far from lonely, even though we're all alone? It's like those simple moments let the cream rise to the top of my mind. Instead of timelines and to-do's, my head fills with images of people like you that bring a smile to my face. The people that bring out the most Michael aspects of my personality. The ones I rarely say "I miss you" to because you always feel right around the corner even when you're a world away, which makes it that much harder to admit I sometimes feel very lonely when I'm with you.

It’s not you, it’s me, I swear! I'm immensely interested in other people, but I often notice myself trying to formulate my next comment or question to demonstrate just how interested I am instead of listening to you. I'm scared not to plan the next moment. I'm worried if I don't have some witty comment or thoughtful question ready to go, you'll lose interest. At that moment I feel lonely and detached. Not the good kind of detachment I imagine a therapist might mention, but a sense of isolation. Instead of savoring the moment, I’m stuck in a solo strategy session. That’s funny because I can't for the life of me make a five-year plan. That sort of planning is beyond me. And if given the option between a good meal and a bad hotel or a bad meal and a good hotel, I'd pick an amazing meal, go out dancing all night, and only worry about where to sleep if the sun wasn’t already rising when my feet finally stopped moving. 

How can I bring that freedom to the rest of my life? What kind of person would I be if I noticed the smile on your face or the sound of your laugh instead of planning my next remark? How would that feel? Pretty damn good, I bet! It'll probably take practice and a metric ton of patience. That’s okay because I’ve gotten better at leaving room for the former and welcome any advice on the latter. So, here's to not knowing what we're going to do for the next five and a half minutes, let alone the next five and half years.

If you have any feedback or want to try that delicious bottle of red from Source & Sink I mentioned, text me. I swear all the cool kids are doing it :) I'm off to Walgreens to see if they have any leftover Valentine's candy on sale. Cheap sugar is a kind of self-care, right? Until we talk again, I hope you'll keep being curious enough to ask questions, find the courage to answer them, and just maybe, have the audacity to give a s**t about other people's answers too!

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit otherpeoples.substack.com

🎧 Listen in a podcast app, on Spotify or read the full post below ⬇️

I somehow skipped an episode of Bridgerton and had the perfect excuse to rewatch the entire first season without feeling any guilt or shame. Honestly, it’s not great, but it’ll do for background music until T. Swift releases another Russian novel of an album.

After last week’s wine recommendation, I had some people asking, “Is this Two Buck Chuck?” No! I divorced Chuck years ago, and as much as we thought we were gonna stay friends, that hasn’t turned out to be the case. Now that’s not to say these bottles are expensive per se. Expensive for some, yes, but we’re not talking about eighty dollar bottles of Burgundy here! Last week's bottle typically retails for $28, and this week’s goes for $35. More than I ever imagined spending on wine when I was chugging bottles of Yellowtail after college, but barely enough for small-batch winemakers practicing low-intervention methods to make a sustainable margin. You don’t have to spend that much money on wine, but if you want to, I’m here for it :)

Now, please hold my hand as I step off my soapbox to say this week I think you should be drinking a bottle of Floral Terranes’ Cabernet Sauvignon #2! This wine is LIVING! The grapes were sourced from vines hidden in a backyard on the North Fork of Long Island. Apparently, the folks over there have moved on from making tea! Now they're stomping whole clusters of ripe fruit from abandoned vineyards and letting it ferment in open-top oak barrels. This wine is jumpy yet grounded, familiar but far away. The second glass had me feeling like how I imagine I would if I had kept that new year's resolution to meditate. If you want help finding a bottle, text me, and I'll connect you with an Other Peoples Approved retailer near you! ( 🇺🇲 313.825.4670 or 🇨🇦 647.370.6832 )

Speaking of things I DON'T DO…

The last two weeks seemed filled with reminders that I never live up to other people's expectations. At least not the expectations I assume they have of me. Honestly, this week I kept thinking CRAP so-and-so must be expecting me to do that thing we talked about even though I'm not sure we actually talked about it, but if I don't do something, they’re going to realize I'm a total fraud. And if they figure that out, they’re not going to want to hang out with me and I'm going to be lonely and sad, which makes sense because, like I said last week, I'm pretty sure I’m unlovable and will be alone forever. So, yeah, it's been a week.

One of the tough questions I asked you recently was, "If you had married your first boyfriend or girlfriend, what might your life be like now?" Interestingly enough, no one assumed their life would be better! At least no one admitted as much. Instead, your responses included various mild to wild examples of how you thought your life would have been worse. I did marry my first boyfriend, and although we’re now divorced, I don’t think I’m any worse off because of it. That’s not to insinuate you’re all wrong, but to highlight the trouble with assumptions. They’re hard to fact check. Especially if you don’t voice them!

We often assume the people we care about know how we feel about them, even if we don’t say it. We think we'll look stupid or be labeled 'too much' if we express how we feel. The truth is, we might be! If I text the guy I went on a date with last night to say he made me smile and laugh and ask him to go out again, he might think I’m clingy or extra or desperate. I certainly assume he’ll think those things and have been scared to text him. But if I don’t tell him how I feel, he might not know. He might assume he knows, but you can probably guess how problematic it could be for me to depend on that to happen.

Your answers to the question, “What makes a person a good traveling companion?” highlighted another version of this conundrum. We often assume people know what we expect of them on a trip, even if we haven’t talked about it. I don’t need to tell my boyfriend to be accomodating on our trip to New York, silently wake up before I do, creep downstairs, get a flat white from the fancy coffee shop across the street, and return without spilling a drop before he sneaks back into bed and waits for me to wake up. He should just know that. We’re soul mates, right?! Yeah...no. Don’t make assumptions. They suck. Express what you want to help avoid misunderstandings and heartache. And go get your own damn flat white!

O.K., let’s wrap this up before I use the ‘A’ word again or reveal any more about my own travel excentricities! If you have any feedback or want to try that delicious bottle of wine from Floral Terranes I mentioned, text me! It’s fun! I’m off to figure out how to get a red wine stain out of a pair of khakis I bought online in my pre-pandemic size and have to return! Does that club soda trick really work? We’ll find out! Until we talk again, I hope you'll keep being curious enough to ask questions, find the courage to answer them, and just maybe, have the audacity to give a s**t about other people's answers too!

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit otherpeoples.substack.com

🎧 Listen in a podcast app, on Spotify or read the full post below ⬇️

2021 - who knew? Before we jump into a recap of tough questions, it seems appropriate to address the elephant in the room and ask what I can only assume you're all thinking, "What wine should we be drinking this week?!?!"

I’m glad you asked! I was ready to recommend a rather unassuming bottle of merlot until I shook things up last weekend and opened something from one of my favorite producers, Martha Stoumen. If her wines were a party, I'd show up on time and stay well past my welcome. I have a habit of taking a bottle of hers on a date to ensure that even if the dude is a dud, at least I’ll have the wine to keep me company. 

While I adore her reds, especially the Zinfandel, I think you should try her Post Flirtation White Blend this week. I know, I know, you're thinking, it's winter, we don't drink white in winter, but this is so good. So, get yourself some old ass Gouda, a jar of fancy olives, and prepare to pretentiously insist how wonderfully the acidity pairs with those salty snacks as you pour yourself a second glass. If you want help finding a bottle, text me, and I'll connect you with an Other Peoples Approved retailer near you! ( 🇺🇲 313.825.4670 or 🇨🇦 647.370.6832 )

Now, I have a confession to make. I was scared to do this recap because I didn’t take the time to organize the weekly questions into themes. The recent topics ranged from relationships to travel and work and didn't seem to have much in common. Oddly enough, though, your answers to those seemingly unrelated questions kept reminding me of the same quote. "Nothing other people do is because of you,” insists Don Miguel Ruiz in his book The Four Agreements while stressing the importance of not taking things personally. 

The extended section reads, "Don't take anything personally. Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won't be the victim of needless suffering."

I think this quote jumped to mind because the first two tough questions seemed to set the stage for many of you to describe how other people judge you. I first asked, "Do you think other people think you're a good listener?" and then, "In what ways are you a difficult person to have a relationship with?" If other people say you’re a bad listener or difficult to be with, that judgment likely has more to do with their own lived experiences and assumptions than with an objective review of your skills and behavior. Or you might actually be a pain in the ass to live with. Maybe the jury’s still out.

The second two questions seemed to be a reminder that if nothing other people do is because of you, it’s possible nothing you do is because of other people. That feels hard to admit! I wanna somehow soften the blow to something like, "Not EVERYTHING you do is because of other people." But, honestly, the more stark version is likely true, at least in my case. In the past, if I stayed up all night researching domestic wine producers using the traditional Georgian technique of fermenting wine in big clay barrels buried in the ground, well, that was because of me, not because I hated my now ex-husband and was maliciously hoping he would feel hurt and rejected while lying cold and alone in bed. 

And if I give up my beautiful loft in Detroit to spend two months in Mexico City and the remainder of winter in New Orleans, it's either because exploring new places and meeting new people put a smile on my face or because I believe I'm unlovable and would rather move someplace else than face the loneliness I'm sure is tied to anything longer than a 12-month lease. It's certainly not because I want to make my 87-year old grandma cry! My decisions are about my experience, my perceptions, my s**t - not about his, or hers, or yours for that matter. So, don’t take it personally when I move 4,000 miles away or insist your inability to put your dirty clothes in the hamper is an indication of your rampant disregard for the hard work I put into our relationship. And I’ll try to do the same when you fall down a rabbit hole of work or glance at your Apple Watch while I’m telling you about my day.

Hmmm, I’m not sure this is ending on the bright, cheery note I had anticipated. Oh, well. C'est la vie! If you have any feedback or want to try that delicious bottle of wine from Martha Stoumen I mentioned, text me! I’m always excited to hear from you :) I'm gonna go for a walk and consider the tough questions we discussed. And by 'go for a walk,' I mean 'eat a chocolate bar,’ and probably have a glass of wine. 

Until we talk again, I hope you'll keep being curious enough to ask questions, find the courage to answer them, and just maybe, have the audacity to give a sh*t about other people's answers too!

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit otherpeoples.substack.com