Unraveling, with Brooke Baldwin

Week 7: Bruuuuce, plane tears & 🦠change

Dearest Unravelers and Unravelers-to-be – 

Hello beautiful humans from Santa Ynez, California… another wedding weekend in the books (who do I think I am… in my 30’s again?! ❤️). I’m grateful to spend this time with you each week as I bring you with me and write. Today I’m curious about our insides matching our outsides (I’ll explain what I mean by that below) and how I believe the pandemic is now contributing to our collective Unraveling. I’d love to hear from you about that.

But first — I’m still humming Bruce Springsteen. In case you don’t follow me on Instagram and thus didn’t get bombarded by my recent photos from the Bruuuuuuuuce show, allow me to briefly wax poetic about this man and his music. This week Peter and I flew to Jersey babyyyy to watch The Boss play on the beach in his hometown of Asbury Park for the very first time. Peter and I snuck in a quick walk on the boardwalk along the Jersey Shore just before the music and soaked in the last whiffs of summer. Then at 7:30pm on the dot, the lights came up and Bruce and the E Street Band commanded the stage, welcomed everyone home and then played their hearts out. The word that comes to mind is “intimacy.” It’s so rare these days to see a musician live who doesn’t need a crazy light spectacle or fast-paced video montages or bells and whistles. This man and his band are raw, honest and make you feel like you’re the only ones singing along (despite the fact that it was a crowd of 35,000). It was extra special to hear him say things like: “And just 100 yards behind me I wrote this next song…” I stood with my man swaying in the ocean breeze under the full moon – taking my phone out only once in the three hour 15 minute show to capture the concert (see video below, volume UP). I’d been craving an electronics-free night. I don’t know about you, but it made me realize how I need more of those. I kept sneaking glances at Peter’s face and the word that comes to mind is joy. Let me state the obvious: we are blessed, but as a dear friend of mine put it recently, we’ve been busy “lifing.” And holy hell… life can get hard. So stealing a night in nature with one of America’s most cherished musicians was a fucking blessing. If you haven’t seen him, run to a show. If you can’t because well, life… I get it. But do me a favor, walk into your bathroom and close the door, lie on the floor, turn off the lights and blast Thunder Road. Let your mind go. We all deserve this feeling. Bruce is in all of us.

I had a first this week in my own Unraveling. I write a lot about the not knowing. The waiting. The fear. The stories we tell ourselves. Well… I’ve been waiting on some news for a few months. Work news. And as I was sitting at 35k feet a few days ago, after months of feeling like this was going to be a swing and a miss, of no news being not good news….. (if I told you how many no’s I’ve gotten since leaving CNN, my goodness… What’s that saying about rejection: “You have to get through a hundreds ‘no’s’ to get to a ‘yes’?” It’s all about perseverance and resilience… and yaddah yaddah blah blah sometimes I wanna just tell perseverance and resilience to go fuck themselves.) Point is, I got a text as I was sitting in the dark plane cabin — I didn’t quite get a no, but let’s just say it wasn’t a resounding yes — and y’all, I had a moment. I suddenly felt so small. All my work, all my success and this? How is this possible? Am I a complete and total loserrrrr? (There’s the Mean Voice. #guilty) What was all my hard work for if this is my reality? And I got up, walked to the bathroom, yanked the door open and then locked it, tossed the toilet lid down, sat and cried my little eyes out. I mean, I’ve shed a tear or two on a plane before. Nothing like a good cathartic cry while suspended in the air. But my god I was in full blown tears. A first. Sobbing in this sad little bathroom that reeked of cleaner and god knows what else, I let myself feel all the feels. Then I took a deep breath, lifted my head, looked in the mirror, wiped my weepy blue eyes with toilet paper and talked out loud to myself: “Brooke, I love you. I believe in you. It’s coming. It only takes one YES.”

I took a deep breath, yanked another wad of toilet paper in my fist, walked back down the plane aisle and dropped back into my seat. I then slowly peeked at Peter to my right. He knew. I didn’t have to tell him a thing. He looked at me, got up, walked around the set of seats so he could sit on my armrest and let me bury my body into his. No words. He just held me. It was as though these three-plus years since I left CNN and really took a chance on myself all folded up in this moment — and I allowed myself to feel it all. The highs, the lows, the wins, the misses. Peter then walked back over to his seat, picked up my phone and read my text — and the next text after that. And sure as shit, the next one in was a reframe, a chance to turn this news into exactly what I wanted all along. Truth is — I’d actually been sitting on a yes ALL ALONG. I’ve realized in my Unraveling, it’s easy to get distracted… to doubt myself and the opportunities right in freaking front of me. Is there really something seemingly bigger and brighter? How much should I listen to others (often with the best of intentions) versus what I know to be true about what I want? How much more do I need to claw for yet another opportunity? I clawed throughout my 20’s and into my 30’s. I’m forty-fucking-five. I’m done clawing. If it’s meant to be, I truly believe it will come. Peter’s next words to me were spot on: “I am SO EXCITED for you. See… this is what you wanted all along. Thank god you got crickets from those others. This is what you’ve wanted for months. This is what was meant to happen. It’s time to get to work.” He. Was. So. Right. I cannot wait to share my news with you — soon soon.

The day before that plane ride, I walked past my old apartment in TriBeCa. This was the door next to my front door. I couldn’t help but smile. The signs are everywhere. 444 Greenwich St. Sept 2024.

I’ve also found myself thinking lately about all of us, our collective Unraveling and the pandemic. I’ve got a lot of thoughts and a video from a few years ago to share…