Five years ago, I started this blog for a very simple reason. I wanted to be heard.
I had three kids. Two were in diapers, and I never, ever got to finish a sentence without interruption. My life was filled with sippy cups, potty accidents, and loads of laundry. I had no room to call my own, no place to write, to think, to breathe, so I built one online.
I also joined a writing group around the same time, an amazing group of women that I saw every Tuesday morning. We would take turns leading the group with writing prompts, and then finish each session by sharing something we’d written that day. The pieces were rough and raw, scribbled feverishly for ten minutes at a time, but we rarely spent a Tuesday without shedding tears. We shared stories about our mothers, our children, our husbands, and our dreams in that YMCA room. Putting the words out there was terrifying yet incredibly freeing. By listening to each other’s stories, we formed a circle of support so tight, I’ve felt off balance without it ever since.
I tried to form a similar group in Ohio, but left too soon after it was established. And since moving to Chicago, I’ve been too preoccupied with the move and then the baby to really explore the writing groups available in the area. But I’ve missed the thrilling intimacy of telling my stories and sharing my writing orally. I miss the catharsis of a great writing session, I miss being the recipient of other writers’ words. I miss the community of other writers.
Two Sundays ago, I auditioned for the Listen to Your Mother show. I stood in a Chicago bar in front of Melisa and Tracey and I read as they listened. I wanted to be picked for the show badly, but was happy just to audition, just to have the chance to share my words again. Writing and editing in preparation for the audition was wonderful, just the push I needed to get writing again.
A week later, I found out that I’d been chosen to be part of the cast. This May, along with 11 other women writers, I’ll get to climb on the stage under the bright lights and tell my story. I’m terrified but I cannot wait. I am so incredibly honored to have been given the chance to share my words, to be heard.
I’ll be back with more info when tickets go on sale, but until then, I just wanted to share the good news.