The Book I Never Got

Did you ever feel like everyone else was handed a guidebook at birth — and somehow you didn’t get one?

In high school, a girl announced she'd be married by 25 and have a baby before 27. And I found out at our ten year reunion — she did just that. In college, everyone seemed to know their major by October of freshman year — and actually stick to it, and land a job at a big firm before graduation.

I stood aside, mouth open. How did they do that? How did they know?

They were making plans and moving forward and I was genuinely just wondering what to eat for lunch.

I fell into life. Forestry major turned communications/journalism major turned graphic designer in the garment district — because I was good at art and someone offered me a job. I didn’t plan any of it. And without a map, without a guide, I eventually went very far astray.

Until my back was against the wall.

People are always surprised when I say that hitting rock bottom was the best thing that ever happened to me. But without it, I never would have been forced to look inside. To find out who I actually am. To heal the wounds that had kept me running from life.

I finally got on a path that led somewhere real. And people started noticing. They’d ask: How do you keep your head together when things get hard?

So I wrote it down. I call it the RETURN Way™ — the return back to yourself.

A messy Sunday at the beach

Here’s what it looked like just yesterday.

Barry and I were exhausted. He’s been commuting from North Jersey to Hudson Yards — what used to be 50 minutes is now two hours each way because of bridge construction. I’ve been staring at a screen for weeks, my eyes feeling like they’re bleeding. In between: the house, the errands, the pets. We are the band. No crew. No help. We’re it.

I decided we needed air. I wanted the beach — that first day where you can actually feel winter releasing its grip and spring tinging the air. I had to go.

Barry is not a fan of sand. I asked anyway. He came — because that’s who he is — but he grimaced and sludged along the damp sand beside me while I went into full Jersey Shore Cheerleader mode. How wonderful! How good the salt air is for us! Frisco, our dog, picked up on Barry’s mood and his usually wagging tail drooped like a damp flag.

Plan B: lunch at the Mule Barn at Sandy Hook — a place I’d been dying to try. Outdoor seating, Frisco-friendly. Seemed perfect. Until Frisco air-snapped at a hostess despite my warnings. Something I hadn’t seen in two years. I apologized, she was gracious, but the day felt like it was folding in on itself.

Frisco went back to the car with his blankets. Barry and I had a genuinely wonderful lunch. Then drove home on the Garden State Parkway — which has become Death Race 2026 — my knuckles white the whole way while Barry slept peacefully in the passenger seat like a man without a care in the world.

Ice cream seemed like the right move. Barry woke up in the parking lot, because of course he did. We got our treats — soft vanilla for Frisco too.

And then Barry said something grumpy and dismissive.

That was it. The cherry on my sundae.

I snapped. I ranted. Exit the Jersey Cheerleader, enter the Jersey Soprano — opera or mafia, either works. He ruined my day. At home we sulked. We had a heated conversation. Then a tense silence dropped like a shawl. It was so bad that Frisco wolfed down his ice cream and retreated upstairs to escape the two lunatics in the living room.

When the RETURN Way showed up

As Barry and I scanned our phones in silence, I opened up ChatGPT and started venting. Something unexpected happened. The chat asked me, “Why don’t you use your RETURN Way™?” — the six-step method I put together to help people interrupt negative emotional loops in real time, for situations just like this.

A lightbulb went off.

I stopped the racing thoughts. I sat with it. And I went through the steps.

Reveal — just the facts.Barry sulked at the beach. He was dismissive at the ice cream parlor. That’s the scene.

Explore — what did my mind do with that?”I have to be the cheerleader.” “He drains my energy.” “Why do I have to plan everything, hold everything, carry everything?” “He never listens.” “He always does this.” A lot of thoughts. No wonder I was angry and resentful and underneath it — a little sad.

Trace — where have I felt this before?Being ignored growing up. Feeling like I had to stay upbeat around angry or difficult people. Playing the clown. Feeling unheard by my family. This wasn’t really about Barry and the beach.

Uncover — what was I actually afraid of?That I don’t matter. That my needs come last. That even the people who love me most won’t really see me. A fear I’ve been carrying since long before Barry ever existed in my life.

Rewrite — what else could be true?My husband is my best friend. He’s exhausted. He’s still recovering from cancer treatment. He went to the beach anyway — because I wanted to go. He is loyal and present and my favorite person 9.9 times out of 10. This afternoon was a hard afternoon. It was not evidence of anything larger.

Nurture — what does the new truth ask of me?I put the phone down. Took a breath. Walked over.

“Hon — I’m sorry for yelling and being unkind. I know you’re exhausted. And you came to the beach with me even when you didn’t want to. Next time, if you feel that strongly, it’s okay to stay and rest — I don’t want you to come if it makes you miserable. I love you.”

I heard him sigh. Felt the tension lift. Frisco came back downstairs.

Barry looked up with the hint of a smile.

The book I built instead

I went to bed feeling like I’d discovered something all over again.

It works. It actually works.

Not perfectly. Not instantly. But it works.

I’ve been using RETURN for a while now. The women I’ve shared it with have found it helps them through the moments that used to derail them. But something about yesterday — using it on my own life, in real time, on a hard ordinary day — made it real in a new way.

Because I’m about to put it out into the world.

And I wanted you to know — it’s not theoretical. It’s not a concept. It’s what I did yesterday in my living room while my husband sulked and my dog hid upstairs.

That book of life that everyone else seemed to get at birth?

Maybe I didn’t get one.

Maybe I built one instead.

The RETURN Way™ workbook is almost here — stay tuned for the launch announcement.

I can’t wait to share it with you.

— Karen

💜