A Handwritten Thank You Revolution

I’ll never forget. One Christmas, my mom got me stationery with my name printed on it.

The gift was thoughtful but—for an adolescent boy—the gift was terrible, respectfully.

What teenage boy in this millennium writes on personalized stationery?

I’m sure somewhere there’s a young man proving me wrong. But writing letters wasn’t reality in my circle, and nothing in my nature at that time would’ve suggested it was an activity I was inclined to do.

I never ended up using that stationery, never getting over the sense that doing so was silly or perhaps not masculine enough.

Boys become men

Now a grownup, planning to spend time away from my home during the 2024 holiday season, I found myself cleaning up and stumbling across a different stationery set that only my mom could’ve gifted me.

This time, there were some cards and envelopes missing from the box.

Either following a graduation or my wedding, I must’ve dipped into the stash to say thank you for a gift—that’s the only possible explanation for the box not being full.

Sometimes maturity and the stars align; holding that stationery box, I made up my mind that I’d use the remaining cards in it to thank people who had an outsized impact on me in 2024.

As I contemplated, the list of people I wanted to thank just kept growing.

Impulsively, I hopped on my computer, purchasing a couple more boxes of cards; I was committed to ending the year handwriting notes in my chicken scratch penmanship.

Flying under the radar

More than a decade later, my mom’s urging on what I ought to do—thoughtfully say thank you—had finally broken through the resistance. But that’s probably an oversimplification.

Aloof might be an accurate way to describe me.

My phone is always on do not disturb. I’m a horrible texter. I’m slow to see—and return—phone calls. I regularly take social media sabbaticals for months at a time.

I’m rather inaccessible on a day-to-day by design.

Admittedly, it's in large part due to my creative and entrepreneurial pursuits.

I don’t mean anyone harm; I’m passionate about my personal and professional work, and regularly that means getting lost in it.

Downsides of the game

In this season of life, I won’t ask for pity or apologize for my self-imposed isolation.

As a money-making mogul named Mitch once said, “I love the game; I love the hustle.”

But I’m not too lost in the game to forget that there are some real side effects.

More time spent off on my own planet means less time on earth with folks I genuinely care about and respect.

I’m not seeking perfect balance right now, but there should still be a bit of balancing the scales.

A nice touch (when out of touch)

So yes, my mom doing what mom’s do, sharing time-tested wisdom, played a role. I’m also a pragmatist that cherishes my relationships.

I want busy advisors to know that I value them sharing time, resources, and knowledge with me.

I want peers to know that some aspect of their lived experience made me pause, leaving a lasting impression.

I want my loved ones to know—and truly believe—that in their time of need they will always come first.

To end 2024, I sent 39 handwritten thank you notes.

Excluding a botched card or 2, that’s all I had.

And when I ran out, there were still more people I would’ve penned a card to!

If you’re reading and feel like you were among the slighted few, hit me up. Let’s catch up.