Call Her Reformed.

Have you ever purposely avoided watching a movie or show, reading a certain book, or listening to a podcast simply because you “don’t like” the person (be it the film star, writer, or host) at the center of the project? At this moment in pop culture, I think we can all conjure the image of a known figure we don’t like, for one reason or another. How much of our distaste is based on bias or prejudice we can’t even really identify? We know there’s something that irks us about (insert name here), but we couldn’t really tell you exactly what that quality is.

I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve realized I do this a lot. And the closer I get to the end of my third decade, I’m starting to unravel a lot of the reasons why, how I can change that, and why I want to.

I was born in 1985, so my formative years were the late nineties and early aughts (I graduated high school in 2003). Looking back, it feels like the Spice Girls were the only females collectively shouting about “Girl Power!” There were so many solo acts and female starlets on the market, each trying to be the thinnest, chicest, prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. The one with the best voice, landing the best roles, becoming the biggest stars. It’s not their fault, as we’re now finding out some 20 years removed from the land of overplucked eyebrows and frosted lips paired with babydoll tees and Steve Madden slides. For so long, women have been relentlessly pitted against each other (Brandy and Monica, Christina and Britney, Nicole and Paris)— when at the end of the day, all to be had at the height of success were eating disorders, mental breakdowns, and plenty of regret. In the last five years, at least, I’m so happy to see that this tide is finally starting to turn. Everywhere I look now, I see so much (overdue) love coming from women in the direction of other women- cheering each other on, recognizing that there is room for all of us at the top. In fact, we make it there faster when we have a solid foundation helping us reach the summit.

So where was I going…. ah, yes. I’ve heard of the super popular podcast “Call Her Daddy” from listening to myriad other shows. I gave a cursory glance at the show’s thumbnail— another pretty, thin blonde, probably a nepo-baby of some kind, doing celebrity interviews. Sigh. Nothing new, nor exciting. Nothing personal against (host) Alex Cooper, I thought, I just don’t have the bandwidth for more senseless ‘celeb chat.’  And then someone recommended the episode in which Alex interviews Megan Fox. Megan Fox! I love her- she’s so misunderstood, and super-hot! Let’s see what she has to say! I’d heard that the conversation was pretty intense. Wait a second. Why was it now okay just because hottie-hot Megan Fox was being featured? Here I am, perpetuating the exact stereotypical behavior I claim to dislike so much! I searched Spotify, found the show, and started listening. And for a little more than an hour, I was transfixed— and feeling guilty simultaneously. Alex Cooper is not “some thin blonde who’s unattainably attractive and had success thrown at her.” She is well-educated, athletic, multi-faceted, extremely capable, articulate, hilarious, and a natural interviewer. She has an enviable ability to make her guests feel completely at ease, and less than five minutes in, it’s always like listening to people who have known each other for years just catching up. On my first listen, I learned a lot about Megan Fox, (who is also just. So. Smart.) but I learned a lot about myself while exploring this show. I feel terrible for pre-judging Alex before I knew what the heck I was talking about. Everyone, of course, is allowed an opinion. At the end of the day though, the adage is true: what people think about you is none of your business! And it’s highly irrelevant. In fact, in 2021, TIME magazine touted Cooper as “…Arguably the most successful woman in podcasting” and she sure as hell is laughing all the way to the bank!

I’m sure everyone with a wee bit of notoriety will absolutely experience the wrath of trolls and haters at some point. Yet my revelation as I kept listening to episode after episode of Call Her Daddy was, indeed, how I’m so grateful for girls (nay, women) like Alex who really want to support other women. Who want to hear other’s stories, build them up, help them grow— and learn. Jane Fonda, one of my personal heroes, was interviewed at the time she was promoting her film 80 for Brady. Referring to what she’s learned in relational therapy, she told Alex, “When you get together in groups, you learn new things— and that changes everything.” I felt chills at this, because I realize— especially in our current political climate— how pertinent this is. I am eternally grateful for my trusted circle of female friends. I’m in awe of their talents, their wisdom, their passions and desires, and the beauty of their open hearts, and willingness to hold space for me there. How incredible to be loved by people who see you as remarkable and want to watch you fly!

Do not let jealousy lead the way. Leave your mind open. Try your very best to see someone else’s success as inspiration for you to chase your own. Reach out to people you admire and ask for help or advice. I’ve met some of my most cherished friends this way! More often than not, we want to be of service to others because it makes us feel good to be admired; so, it’s a win-win all around. Not to sound too hippie-dippy, but what the world needs now really is love. And it’s much easier to have, and to get, when we push bias aside and let people show us who they are.

I believe we’re bigger than small talk.

It happens to all of us, but honestly, few things drive me as crazy as small talk. Yesterday it hit me a little harder. After a solid week of rain, (and a lot of personal chaos) I dragged myself to the parent pick-up line to meet my son outside his school. I wasn’t standing there for five seconds when the sweet grandfather in the baseball cap next to me wanted to discuss— what else? — the weather. Perhaps if the week had not already felt so draining, I would have been able to indulge him with artificial ease. Alas, I was in no such mood. So, I nodded politely, but declined to engage further. And as I collected my kiddo and we dashed for the car, I started thinking about why we settle for small talk in the first place— and can we (PLEASE) improve upon this societal staple?

I don’t hate talking to people, generally. We are after all, naturally social creatures and the connection forged through meaningful conversation can help us feel happier. But here's the thing— there often isn’t enough time to get into a deep discussion about the mysteries of the universe or the childhood traumas that shape who you are today. In most cases, you’re doing the awkward waiting dance for about five-to-ten minutes, and (in this example) you do have to appear somewhat sane to the other parents. Why, however, are we naturally inclined toward the same opening lines every time? If you’re not sincerely asking me how I’m doing to listen for a real answer, then don’t. There must be other greetings and openings for us to use in passive conversation that are a little less— painful? Mundane? Artificial? I know I must sound harsh, but honestly, at 38-years-old and with a whirlwind of traumatic experience filling just the last year alone, I realize that I just don’t have space— or energy— for the superficial. And so, I’ve spent more time than usual thinking of ways to eliminate it from my life whenever possible. And here’s what I’ve come up with so far.

The first thing I’m considering is how to be a better listener. If I’m going to engage with someone, it’s because I genuinely want to. Therefore, I should be actively absorbing what they’re sharing, not just plotting my response while I wait for their sentence to end. Thus, my greeting, or opening question, must be something that involves less of me and my own interests, and more of theirs. In my research, I found a really interesting alternative to the dreaded “Hey, how are you?” Instead, try “So what’s been keeping you busy lately?” I love this because it doesn’t necessarily incite a work-related answer, therefore the response can stimulate further getting-to-know-you topics. You’re also avoiding your own favorite subject matter, and therefore won’t be overly enthusiastic about injecting your opinions and thoughts. A great way to practice active listening!

Another tactic to keep a conversation going when it is my turn to respond is to actually consider my reply. We’ve been trained for most of our lives to give the standard “Fine, thanks, and you?” when asked how we’re doing. Instead, mention something that is happening to you currently. For example, I might reply with “I’m ahead of the game today! I updated my blog and finished a nonfiction piece I’m working on for submission- it made me feel productive!” I’m giving a reason and inviting further back and forth about our current moods and what we both accomplish throughout our respective days. This helps foster commonality and more of a bond. The next time I talk to this person, I’ll have a sturdier foundation to build from, and meaningful aspects of their lives to inquire about. It just helps the moments we spend in these situations feel much less contrived and awkward.

One last thing that generally works— as long as you’re sincere— is a compliment. If you like someone’s earrings, or coat, or shoes, tell them! A well-timed “I really like the color of your jacket, it reminds of the ocean,” or “The shape of your glasses is so cool! Where did you find those?” can open a dialogue that you can (more often than not) spin into a deeper discussion. And when it’s time to go, do so graciously. Of course, if you’re in our example scenario of picking up your kid from school, then you’ll have a natural out when they emerge from the building. In other situations, however, it might take a few steps. Usually, body language can be a good indicator that either party is prepared to bid farewell. When someone begins to turn their body a bit or takes a few steps back, it’s clear they (or you) need to depart. Offering some simple words of closure such as “It was so nice talking to you— enjoy the rest of your day!” or “Thank you so much for sharing; I hope the rest of the project turns out well. See you soon!” are warm ways to show your gratitude for that person having opened up to you, while giving either one of you a solid exit.

If by chance you master the art of “substantial” small talk and sense that you may have a budding new friendship on the horizon— make it happen! Extend the invite for coffee or lunch, or even a meet-up at the park with your kids. I met one of my closest friends this way, while chatting when our sons were in kindergarten together. I really liked her energy, and I wasn’t wrong. Almost four years later and she still hasn’t shaken me loose!

I’ll end with this beautiful quote I came across. “Small talk kills me. Teach me something. Tell me about your life experiences and the lessons you’ve learned. Discuss psychology and your spiritual journey. Give me depth and authenticity.” -Morgan Richard Olivier

I hope that we all find more time to dig a little deeper with each other when faced with the opportunity to share even just a few moments with someone unfamiliar. That’s exactly what we have in these instances: opportunity.

Competition? I think of them as companions.

“Everything good that happened in my writing career happened because someone, normally another writer, helped me. Suggested me for something, put in a good word, and so on. The idea was always that you help others, and they help others in their turn. It’s not a win or lose game.” -Neil Gaiman, author (Coraline, American Gods)

My transition into writing full-time didn’t happen immediately. Full-on Lemony Snicket style, there was first a series of unfortunate events. My dad passed away suddenly in 2020, leaving me untethered and with a lot of things left unsaid. And so, I wrote them down, turned them into podcasts, blogs, short stories…you name it. I raged and wrote and cried. I returned to my corporate job and finished my degree. And the creative juices would flow, never quelled by the monotony of my office job.

Then summer 2023 came, and I was minding my own business, jogging home after my usual five-to-six-mile-run, when I was struck by a car while crossing the street. My injuries landed me in the trauma ICU, followed by many, many weeks of having nothing to do but think. Reflect. Make notes. Repeat.

Recovery led me to consider what really mattered to me, and what exactly I wanted to spend my precious life doing. If these two major traumatic experiences weren’t the slap in the face that I needed…I didn’t want to have to find out the hard way what was next. It was time to commit to pursuing my passion. Writing. But where to start? And why did it seem like everyone else in the field already had such a lucrative, thriving career doing this thing that we love? Why had it taken me so long to get started…oh, god, I’m already a failure and I’ve barely started my dream career. What am I doing? I don’t belong here…. look, she’s been in the industry SIX years already…that’s why that huge online publication hired her and now she gets to work from the sun deck of a cruise ship….

These were some of the obnoxious, jealous, intrusive thoughts I found myself having as I perused LinkedIn, Instagram, and Google looking for advice and other women in the industry to follow. And then it dawned on me: yes, they’re technically my competition (in that we’re all writers). However, they are also my community. And what’s stopping me from making connections, and exploring the possibility that I can reach out for help?

When I first started podcasting, I was new to my chosen topic, which was addiction and recovery (in honor of my late father). I had learned SO MUCH, and because of my constant contact with other hosts, I made new friends worldwide, and had experiences I’ll cherish forever. The podcasting community is FULL of other shows and creators who never hesitate to help a fellow host. They understand that there’s room for everyone at the top, and I never had a bad experience networking in that realm. Why would it be different with writers? It’s not.

I was really excited to find that there are loads of freelance writers who offer YouTube videos, blogs, and even online courses to help guide you through launching your own career. One in particular even created a library of templates she uses to help track clients she’s pitched, ideas she has, and workflow status. Another posted a really informative video about finding your writing “niche” (for example, the beauty industry or health food), why it’s critical and how to make it lucrative. This was something I hadn’t considered but made a world of difference for me as a newbie. We have to figure out what to focus on and how to spend our time wisely if we are going to be productive, after all.

I’ve reached out to several authors I admire, as well as publishing bloggers and podcasters in the field, and have gotten some wonderful advice and leads on who to reach out to for help with submissions, who might be a great beta reader for a piece I’m working on, etc. It’s scary -but necessary- to put yourself out there. Instagram and emails make it easier to do so a little more comfortably, since you’re separated by your screen. You’ll soon realize that building strong relationships with your competitors also helps you gain priceless industry insight, network with new contacts, and can potentially lead to exciting collaborations. And remember, just because you may be newer to an industry, doesn’t mean you have nothing to bring to the table. You’re here for a reason, and you may have skills and advantages that your colleagues can appreciate and learn from just as much as you’re gaining from their expertise. A fresh perspective and new ideas are incredibly valuable.

Another aspect to keep in mind is that the market for written content is massive and ever-evolving. If you build a solid reputation among your peers as a writer who is supportive, collaborative, and trustworthy, chances are, people will keep you in mind for projects that they may not be able to take on. You’ll need the strong recommendations of colleagues to keep expanding your business, and vice-versa. If you are not a great fit for an assignment, but know someone who would be, shout them out! The amazing karma of helping others rise up will always come back to you, so keep the cycle going.

The bottom line is this: I wouldn’t be posting on my beautiful website if it weren’t for the woman who helped me create it. I wouldn’t have met her if it weren’t for my editor at Women Who Podcast Magazine, whom I’ve had the pleasure of working with for two years now, because I put myself out there and asked if I could contribute to her publication. That opportunity opened doors to other creators I’ve had the joy of partnering with, and helped me build the confidence to make this my career. Anything you may need or have questions about is available to you online these days, and trust me- we’re all here, eagerly waiting to welcome you in!

Don’t view the competition as a negative element; instead think of them as companions on your journey toward your chosen destination. Everyone has something to add, but it’s your story to tell.

It’s Just a Paper Bag

I ask my husband to open the front door to the frigid winter air and bring in my order from Whole Foods. It’s January, after all, and high time I recommit to eating more plant-based foods. I’m impressed with their all- brown-paper-bag-hipster packaging. 100% recyclable, of course. Excitedly, I reach to grab my ridiculously overpriced vegan chili, pancake mix, frozen veggies, blah blah.

After everything is put away, I look into our small galley kitchen where my husband is chopping peppers and preparing chicken for the Crock Pot. I’d seriously be in the way if I tried to get to the recycling bin right now, and so I ask if he’d mind disposing of them for me when he can. “Sure, toss them over here,” he says, looking at me as I teeter near the counter. I do, and one of the bags lands gently near the bin, on its side.

And suddenly, I am two or three-years-old again, in the late 1980s, in a wonderfully vintage kitchen. My handsome father is making me giggle as he takes brown paper bags from our shopping trip to Grand Union and draws funny faces on them, cutting holes for the eyes and mouth and gently placing each over my head for ridiculous Polaroid fun. I still have a few of these shots somewhere in the archives of my mother’s basement. I am laughing that lovely, musical, toddler giggle, and my dad is chuckling with his own infectious boom. He scoops me from the highchair and swings me up into a hug, and if I knew then what I know now I would stay there forever.

Other Sundays, the brown bags would fall haphazardly to the floor as my father re-stocked the pantry. Inevitably, our tuxedo cat, Socks, would surreptitiously make his way into one, only to be discovered by a startled “Oof! Sorry,” when my dad would go to scoop up the mess and inadvertently cause a flurry of fur as Socks would jump out and scurry away, indignant.

When I was old enough, I would make my way down the aisles of Grand Union, walking alongside the cart and helping dad stock up for the week. Our favorite pastime was developed in the paper goods aisle. Dad would stand in front of the rolls of paper towels, picking his favorite patterns. Once satisfied, he would look down at me, excitedly. “Okay, go long!” I would take the cart and shuffle just a few feet down the opposite end of the aisle and turn to face him. “Go!” I would shout, smiling broadly, ready for this ultimate test of athleticism. He would make a big show of tossing me each role, cheering every time I caught one and triumphantly dunked it into our cart. When we were finished, he would jog toward me, laughing. “Great job, kiddo!” His praise would be the cloud I floated on as he hi-fived me, and we made our way to get a muffin to share for the rest of our shopping adventure.

My husband noisily crumples up the bags and stuffs them into the receptacle, jarring me from my reverie. The smell of a beautifully seasoned chicken and a warm oven brings me back to the present, and I look to the kitchen wall where a shot of my late father, playing his drums, looks over us. “You know what my dad used to do with paper bags when I was little?” I start, wistfully. “No, what’s that?” he asks, knowing that my heart needs to share this right now.

It’s just a paper bag, really. But to me, it’s the eighties. It’s a childhood filled with a scratchy beard on my cheeks the millions of times I was hugged. It’s grocery-store Olympics and priceless silly memories. It’s moments frozen in time that are also gone forever. It’s a person I would do anything to have five more minutes with. It’s an indelible mark on who I am. This paper bag represents the particles from which I am made. Magic that cannot be recaptured. A reminder to make my own, with my child, moving forward.

I wonder what form your paper bag takes?

College application essays: in order to stand out, you must look in.

“When people ask me where I get my ideas, I laugh. How strange- we’re so busy looking out, to find ways and means, we forget to look in.”

-Ray Bradbury

It strikes me as odd (now that I have the benefit of 20 year’s hindsight) that so much pressure is put on us when we are but mere high school seniors. We exist in a strange purgatory between child and adulthood, hardly having lived 18 years on this planet. Then the time comes when we are expected to bare our souls to a college admissions board full of respected-yet-unfamiliar adults who don’t really know us. Our GPA and SAT scores hold hands with the dreaded admissions essay- completing our dossier and taking the leap toward securing a coveted spot at the university of our dreams- which may legit change our lives. No big deal.

We are given a topic and a roughly 650-word-limit and from that, the aforementioned board will judge us and decide our fate like a round table full of shadowy boogeymen from an Edgar Allen Poe story.

Now that I have a child myself (who will be writing his own essay by the time I’ve blinked), I’m thinking it’s time to take the pressure off once and for all. Let’s examine a few key elements to help students feel much more at ease about this stage of their application process.

You already have what you need: your personality and your experiences. Never stop being an individual- the less you try to fit a mold, the better.

As research for another project, I’ve looked at a few job applications within different service industries recently (barista and receptionist, for example). These are forward-facing positions which require a lot of teamwork, focus, attention to detail, and a kind attitude. The most common trend I’ve noticed is that the questions are more like short-answer exercises in self-reflection (i.e., “what are your hobbies outside of work?” or “what helps you handle stressful situations in a productive manner?”). What does this have to do with your essay? Well, think of a job application as great practice for how you want to present yourself to the school- they’re looking for first-years who will add value to their class- and not just on the basis of perfect grades. Students who will work well with others, be able to manage the stress of multiple assignments due at once, and who will find something they enjoy within the extracurricular structure the university offers. Trust me, a college admissions officer reads countless essays each week. They are not looking for the writer who sounds the smartest or appears to be good at everything; they’re looking for the writer who shows that they have character and are motivated to grow. Just as you want to prove to a potential employer that you’d be an asset to their team, you want to do the same with your (hopefully) future alma mater.

I cannot reiterate it enough: BE GENUINE. Whichever snapshot into your life you choose to put on paper, make sure it’s actually important and meaningful to you. I don’t use the word “snapshot” lightly, either; it’s a great idea to narrow your topic down and really focus on a piece of the experience which made an impact. You may never forget scoring the winning touchdown during the last 5 seconds of the championship game your senior year, but what about that day do you remember most vividly? What was the pinnacle moment within that broad experience? Was it later on in your room, when you took off your jersey and inhaled the grass and the sweat for the very last time? In the moments you stood there and realized the gravity of all those half-time pep talks -they’d steered you toward that one glorious moment- and how you can’t wait to bring that motivation and energy into your new school? You see? You thought the touchdown was “The End” when actually, the reflection that came later is the real meat-and-potatoes of what makes you interesting. This “micro analysis” of our experiences might take some time to flesh out and piece together in writing, but I promise it will be worth it- and you may find you really enjoy examining these memories through different lenses.

Once you’re secure in your topic and have outlined how you plan to respond, make sure you write several drafts. I highly recommend the first one being rather informal, leaning more toward stream of consciousness. Subsequent drafts will become much less narrative, however this exercise can help pinpoint what you want to say. Your final draft will be polished and will not reflect this style by the time you’re ready to submit- but I do believe in building confidence from the start. Speaking of submission, by the third round, please let as many objective sets of eyes as possible read your essay. Trusted teachers or a counselor/advisor would be splendid, if this is an option. Constructive criticism is just that, and it’s very helpful to remain open to this guidance. It’s also great practice for the many notes your future professors will decorate your work with. All of this is meant to help you, so please keep that in mind if you fear the red pen.

If you’re working on your essay right now and are looking for more guidance, need someone to proofread and edit, or all of the above- I can help! You or your guardian can contact me here.

The quote I opened this post with is from one of my all-time favorite authors. Mr. Bradbury wrote visceral stories- so vivid you could dream about them long after closing the book. He was not afraid to be an outlier, and in doing so has become unforgettable; a pillar of American literature in the 20th Century. Look within, forge your own path, and make sure your essay comes from the heart. If your inspiration is drawn from the life you’ve lived so far- I cannot wait to read about what you do with the next 20 years.

New to socializing solo? Why it can be beneficial to your journey.

For most of us, going to a social event alone (or even dining solo in public), is the stuff of nightmares. The experience can bring back those adolescent feelings of standing on the fringes of the lunchroom, tray in hand, sweating profusely while looking around for a “safe” table to seek refuge at. You feel like everyone’s eyes are on you, judging, wondering why you’re even there. Likely, this was not the case back then, and it certainly is not now, in adulthood. Yet the discomfort can be so profound that it stops us from even considering leaving the house without our partner or a friend; someone to talk to, a built-in safety net.

I, too, dread going places where I only know the person who invited me. Of course, the host or hostess has to be just that, and therefore all of their attention cannot be focused on you. So what now? Are you getting nervous just thinking about it? Me, too. But recently, as I pivot my career goals and embark on a new journey, I’ve found that networking comes with invites. This is great! Except, I have a small child, and my partner will likely stay home with him. So if I’m going to pursue new opportunities, I must go it alone. And here’s what I’ve found so far:

• Socializing is an art

  I’m 38, and so I can remember what constant face-to-face conversation feels like, pre-social media. What I didn’t realize, however, is how much I’ve missed it. When I was a child and my parents were teaching me about manners, my father used to remind me to look people in the eyes as much as possible when having a conversation. As well, it helps to truly listen to what the person you’re talking to is saying- don’t just prepare to respond. Being a great listener is a valuable skill and a quality that others sincerely appreciate. To me, it’s one of the highest compliments I can receive. I want people to feel comfortable communicating with me. It’s a great way to widen your social network -and net worth- as people are likely to relay to their circle how you make them feel. According to an article by HelpMates, “One of the best things you can do to get your next job is to practice this craft of interacting in person.”

• Stepping out by yourself can actually be empowering

  In the last few months, I’ve been invited to two major events in New York City, about an hour south of my home. Never one for crowded and loud spaces, I don’t typically frequent downtown (NYC can be a very cool place, of course- this is certainly not a jab). I’m at a point now, though, where I realize how much I need to put in face time with new connections. No one will know what I have to offer the world if I don’t actually go out into the world. So, the first time, I planned everything as far in advance as possible. My driving route, where I would park, and walking directions from said garage to the venue. I like to pay attention and not have my head in my phone when I’m out alone, so being prepared this way made me more confident and much less anxious. Once inside, I stood at the back of the space, just observing. Taking a moment to familiarize yourself with the room helps you feel less overwhelmed. I found my host and said a proper hello, thanking him for the invitation. And then, I asked if he thought I might make a good connection with anyone else in the room. Requesting introductions is a great way to curb the anxiety of blindly approaching strangers, and can lead to some extraordinary opportunities! I had a wonderful time and met people I’d actually been wanting to talk to. If I hadn’t shown up, I would have missed out on a lot of fun and some valuable exchanges. It was simply really nice to meet new people with common interests.
  At the next event, I took the same preparatory measures, got all dressed up, and surveyed the room. Almost immediately, I made eye contact with a woman who had the warmest smile and a very kind way about her. She ended up coming to sit next to me, and for the next 30 minutes, we bonded over shared experiences and backgrounds. It was completely random, and felt amazing! The person who had invited me that evening was a guest of honor, and therefore I wouldn’t get a chance to say hello until halfway through the event. However, it was a wonderful opportunity to see my friend in her element, giving the audience a glimpse into her work and what makes her a celebrated professional. And when we finally did embrace, she was sincerely touched that I had come. It made her feel supported, and that was a huge win in my heart. On the way home, I was so excited to have seen her, to have made new allies, and just to have put myself out there! It felt incredible and so- adult.

• A new and unknown social setting can be inspiring

  When you’re out of your comfort zone, your mind is absorbing a new experience. In a sense, you’re gathering raw materials for new ideas and creative endeavors. Once you’re back in your safe space, you can relax and reflect on everything you learned and enjoyed. These experiences also helped me feel more productive. I was able to sit down and write thank-you notes, and invite people I’d met to keep in touch, or collaborate further on something we’d discussed at the event. As old-school as it may sound, I also found that carrying a pen and small notepad in my clutch was helpful- notes that I took were a massive help to me later on, and reminded me of important things I may have otherwise forgotten.

I understand going it alone can be difficult, trust me. But if you’re here, reading this, chances are you’re already tempted to try things! I’m so proud of you for even considering it. You’ll be amazed at the doors that open up to you once people know that you’re there, and you can offer amazing things! It takes practice, but I promise the only thing you’ll have to regret is not putting yourself out there.

Nothing is picture perfect

There will always be an excuse, a reason why you can’t -or shouldn’t- do something. This type of negative self-talk goes hand-in-hand with the buzziest of buzz words (buzz phrases?) at present- imposter syndrome.

Essentially, when we feel our academic background or current financial standing is disproportionate to our forward-facing success, we start to feel like it’s all a charade. As though we don’t deserve what we’re gaining or working toward because another area of our life is “lacking.” Okay, well let’s examine that. Social media, as we all know by now, is one of the major facilitators of anxiety and depression. We observe so many of our peers celebrating milestones, accolades, and achievements time and again, and we wonder what we should be doing differently in order to keep up with our cohorts.

However, what we’re not seeing on Instagram is the full picture (no pun intended. Ok, you got me, pun fully intended). A person you follow might be receiving a huge financial windfall after struggling for the last decade (unbeknownst to you) to break even and pay off bills, despite their thousands of followers. Now, it looks to you like yet another glamorous day-in-the-life of an uber-successful person. A different post shows a woman whose book is coming out next Tuesday -but inwardly, she’s really nervous because it cost her a small fortune to self-publish and now she’s responsible for the pressures and commitments of the marketing tour. To you, however, she’s written a bestseller and gets to lead a celebrity lifestyle. Point being, these positive things are indeed a huge win and should be celebrated- but we, on the outside looking in, have no idea what it took to get there, nor the physical, emotional, and spiritual toll the journey had on the individual working so hard to make their dreams a reality.

I say this because, at 9:00 a.m. this morning, I was running on a lakeside trail, breathing in the crisp fall air and admiring the misty sunshine. My son is in school, my husband at work, and I “get” to come home and write for a living. Then I thought, well, if my dad were here, I wouldn’t be doing this. And that, friends, is because the loss of my father, in many ways, was the catalyst for this part of my journey. My dad’s passing (and his incredible ability to organize paperwork and consider the future) left me in a position to be able to reconsider my life goals, desires, and what I really wanted to do. What kind of legacy I wanted to leave. Obviously, I would live in a shack and eat Ramen for the rest of my life if it meant bringing my father back. I only point all of this out in order to illustrate that none of us could ever fully reveal, in one perfect little captioned photo, the why and how of it all.

More often than not, something occurs to us along the way. A trauma, a positive experience, a trip, a birth…and it changes us irrevocably. It becomes the accelerant that lights our fire, and we say, “You know what? I’m just going to try this…” and we do. Once you start fanning the flames of a passion, it’s really hard to smother.

When I started understanding that I was, in fact, going to need to finish my Bachelor’s degree in order to write seriously and further my career, that was it. I became singularly focused on finding the right school, the right curriculum, and sticking with that plan. All of a sudden, the girl who could barely keep her eyes open in high school was Summa Cum Laude with a perfect GPA. It was so validating to know that I was succeeding now because I was pushing myself toward something I loved, that I wanted. Not that I was being forced toward.

After the sudden loss of my dad, there were certain pressures lifted from me; however, others, more insidious and seemingly unending, would creep in to replace any financial woes. Regardless, I needed to make something out of this. I became an advocate, I started writing furiously, I dabbled in podcasting, and I chased after what I needed to feel fulfilled.

Some days, I definitely examine my standing and wonder, “who do I think I am, trying to be a professional writer?” The answer is, I am someone who wants their picture to be an honest reflection of their reality. It’s a struggle to make dreams come true, and yeah, the circumstances that bring us closer may not always be ideal. However, you’re only an imposter if you’re not being true to yourself.

Writing Through Grief

In December of 2020, two days before Christmas, I found out that my dad had died, alone in his apartment, from complications related to Alcohol Use Disorder (AUD). For context, my father, Eddie, had suffered most of his 69 years with addiction- but this didn’t stop him from being an immensely talented drummer, an incredibly intelligent, charming, funny and charismatic man, and, most importantly, my best friend. From day one, he was all-in as a dad, and never ever did I wonder whether he had my back. Growing up with him was an absolute blast- until it wasn’t. As I got older and more self-sufficient, I think he felt he could relax a little bit and fall back on drinking when he experienced anxiety and stress. There was plenty of that to be had, as my parents lived most of their 24-year marriage either yelling at -or ignoring- each other. 

I was not taught about addiction, recovery, sobriety, or harm reduction growing up (since his death, I have become an advocate for those who suffer and have been pursuing an education on these topics). I knew that Eddie struggled (a lot), and it was one of many sources of ire for my mom. But no one talked about it, and I felt ashamed for what went on in our home- like I was the only one with parents who shouldn’t be married and one who imbibed too much. I really had no idea how to support myself in these feelings, or how to support my dad, to be able to help in any way. Most individuals who suffer with addiction do so because they need to escape something painful. Depression, a traumatic experience, anxiety -sometimes all of those, and more. In any event, I didn’t know what I didn’t know at the time…so instead, I got angry. I passed judgement. I yelled at him while he was drunk and acting in a ridiculous manner. It felt so…beneath him.  After all, here was this adult, educated, amazing man…acting like a toddler. It grossed me out and I felt so helpless. And yet, I never knew that there were myriad resources available to adult children of alcoholics like me. So, whenever my father would relapse, I would retreat from him. And it was so, so painful. I always missed him terribly, but my anger would keep me away until he was “better” and would take another stab at sobriety. 

Thus, it will forever break my heart that in his last days, I was beyond angry at him. In the height of the pandemic, not being able to see me, my husband, and his grandson in-person had pushed him into a wall of depression and grief. He found solace at the bottom of countless glasses of McClelland’s Scotch Whiskey. Until the fateful day when his body simply couldn’t take it any longer. And he was alone. I never had the chance to say goodbye, and make sure he knew that he was my hero. He was so much more than his dependence. I loved him fiercely. 

I write all of this to say that in the last (almost three) years that he’s been gone, I have evolved tremendously. At first, of course, my grief was paralyzing. I couldn’t do anything productive. I sat in bubble baths for hours or ran miles and miles until my doctor told me to chill out because my pelvis was going numb. I never thought I would laugh again, let alone create anything or be mildly happy. You never “get over” losing your person. Honestly, now, I hope a part of that shock never fades. It reminds me of how real my father was, how much I love him and how much he taught me. I see him every single day in so many things- the pink sky at sunrise (his favorite color), a Stevie Ray Vaughan song on the radio, the way the sun gleams through the gorgeous fall foliage on our favorite hiking trails. He is a part of everything I am and everything I do, and if it weren’t for his love and preparation, many opportunities I’ve been presented with since 2020 would not be happening. I know this is his way of telling me “You’ve got this! Keep going!” Eddie’s passing taught me how precious life is, as cliché as it sounds. We are all fragile. He has inspired me to live the way I should and fulfill his dreams, in a way, by doing what I’m passionate about for the rest of my days. Nothing will help you live like losing someone you love. Do it -LIVE- while there’s still time. Write, paint, sculpt, sing...MAKE ART. Nothing has shaped my journey the way my grief has. So, now, I let it flow. I take my time, I write what I feel, I scream and cry when I need to, I laugh with my husband and my son. I make sure to tell lots of stories about my father and keep his name and memory alive. I will use every ounce of inspiration that my grief can provide. Emotions are our greatest tools as creatives. Through your experience, be it sadness, love, joy, rage- see the possibility. See the progress. Never stop. I, for one, would love to see where your journey takes you. 

Make it happen- for YOU!

When I was little, I always wanted to be a writer. Sure, there were periods where “paleontologist” and “archeologist” and “marine biologist” were thrown in (lots of “ology” was popular in the 90’s, I guess). But deep down, I always knew being a writer was my calling. In 5th grade, we read Island of the Blue Dolphins and then were assigned to write a survival story of our own. I ended up crafting a novella-length story, which was met with much praise and encouragement from both my teacher and peers. It felt so good as a 10-year-old to have validation that what came from my imagination and flowed onto the page was not only cohesive- but it was also good. People enjoyed reading what I wrote! When you’re a kid, especially one full of anxiety and insecurity, if you discover you’re good at something, a thing you’re actually passionate about, it can be such a gift. The whole world opens up to you. 

Strengthening my vocabulary and reading voraciously fostered my creativity and helped me gain the confidence to expand my repertoire. I loved writing short stories, but as I grew older, I learned how to write research papers, theses, speeches..on and on. And then one day -out of nowhere- I became…an adult. It was so rude. I graduated high school and suddenly I needed a “grown-up” job. My parents were extremely hardworking, but we were middle class at best. At the time, college wasn’t a priority for me, and more and more, securing a corporate, administrative position seemed like the only way toward an independent, financially stable future. And so it was…my writing became less of a creative talent, and more of a professional skill. Instead of an author, I was now more of a technical writer; crafting emails and letters to professional colleagues in other medical institutions, soliciting recommendations, dossiers, and other correspondence necessary for my position. I worked hard, earned a decent paycheck, and sincerely thought that this would forever be my lot until retirement. 

During this time -over a decade and a half- I don’t think I realized how much of me was missing. I was not happy, professionally. I was completely beholden to the mood and whims of my superiors, other people’s energy, and other people’s work ethics (or lack thereof). If I did try to spout anything creative during this period, I was struck with a frustrating and painful writer’s block -something I’d never faced before. I had let my creative spark fall to the wayside. I didn’t understand that I was well within my right to advocate for myself at work and not put up with a toxic work environment. My naïveté and people-pleasing cost me not only my passion for writing and creative aspirations, but also my mental health. 

Thankfully, I had an awakening before it was too late. One day, the cliché hit me right in the face (again, rude!): this is not a dress rehearsal, and I no longer had time to waste. I returned to school (discovering my aptitude for online education) and completed my bachelor's degree. I suddenly had a massive appetite to make things again. Circumstances had changed, and I was able to navigate away from an unhappy office environment (don’t get me wrong, I understand what a privilege that is). I found that taking charge of myself and my happiness actually made me feel like writing more (quite the opposite of what Hemmingway would have us believe). 

I would say that the key to this new path, for me, has been to stop resisting it. WHY should I be reluctant to follow my dream? When I went back to school, I researched until I found an all-online program which encompassed the skills I wanted to learn- professional and creative writing, under the umbrella of Communications. This way, I would be well-rounded and capable of producing quality work in myriad settings. I started poking around on social media and looking for writers whose visions aligned with mine. I read their works and have even had the pleasure of connecting with many of them. Forming a network of people who parallel where you see yourself heading is a must. I also began coming out of my shell a bit and attending events where I could network in-person with authors, aspiring writers, publishers, etc. Putting in face time is integral to making lasting connections and helping others form a correlation between your work and who you are as a person. A positive association can help propel your project to new heights when the time comes. 

I’m still new to this realm, and every day I read or learn something new that helps me stay focused on where I want to go with my writing career. I take (consistent) small steps so that I can be here for the long run. I have finally figured out what makes me happy, and how to weave my passion into everything I need to sustain a livelihood for myself and my family. Is it scary? Absolutely! Taking a risk always is. But who better to trust than yourself?