I’m thrilled to host my second AMA. I received so many thoughtful questions during the last one that inspired me to go deeper into things that I needed to understand about myself and others—and life—but had not yet given enough attention (like this piece about relationship deal-breakers).
You can ask me about all the things that are uncomfortable to talk about when it comes to love, motherhood, trauma, writing, identity, or trying to live a meaningful life—nothing is off-limits. It’s the seemingly dark places that I’ve been too afraid to explore that I often find the most healing, the most light. So, ask away. Don’t hold back. I’m here to tell you the truth.
To kick things off, I have a question for you:
What is one thought you have every day but wish you didn’t?
I look forward to hearing your answers and I am so excited that you’re here. I’ve created this Substack in hopes that it will be much more than a newsletter—that it will be a community. Thank you for sharing a piece of your story with me.
Oh, and I have one more question for those who participated in my last AMA: Did you like that some of the questions had deep-dive answers with separate pieces outside the thread, or would you rather I keep it simple and share all of my answers here, all in one place?
"I should give up." I feel like I'm always so close to throwing in the towel. Probably everybody on the outside sees confidence, composure and a sense of direction but in reality I'm constantly exhausted of the struggle, and doubting myself, my talents, and how far I'm willing to go. I feel like a fraud. I feel like I'm reaching for something that I'll never be successful in doing. But why? When will I consider myself successful if not now? How many stories and poems do I have to publish before I'm a successful writer? How many paintings do I need in my portfolio before I can believe I'm a real painter? Is it not enough that I'm PAINTING? That I'm WRITING? When will it feel like I'm not about to fall flat on my face in a puddle of my own shitty creations?
Thank you, Maggie! So glad you liked them. I ended up turning the piece that came from the question you asked into an essay that I'm hoping to get published somewhere. I'll definitely share the link with you if it works out.
Oof. "I should give up." This is my exact answer to this question. Every day I think, "I should quit writing. I can't sustain it and be the present mother I want to be while also doing my pay-the-bills work. I am overextended and something has to go." And then I have to do the exhausting work of talking myself into why my writing is important and then get my ass in the chair to do it. I'm in a constant battle with myself.
So, all the that to say, I hear you. Feeling like a fraud, a hack is something I feel every day. Imposter Syndrome hits me hard. I think your question, "but why" really hits to the center of the issue. Why? Why do I even do this? Why do I need it? What is even the point of it all, y'know? It never feels like enough, does it? Doing the work is not enough. I kept telling myself that if my book was published, then it would be enough, and I'd know that I can really do this. But it never did and here I am, still doing it. But I still don't feel successful and I don't know if I ever will.
I wish I had answers for you, love. But I feel the same exact way. It's like logically I know that art for the sake of art is enough, but there's something inside me that wants more, something that says I can't justify the time I spend on it unless I get published, unless my writing makes me money, unless I get that outside validation.
Have you ever read Big Magic? That book made me cry. It helped me not to put so much pressure on my art and to honor it for what it is and what it does for me. Looks like I may need to give it another read.
Thank you for sharing this with me. I know it's hard to come against this sort of thought day in and day out, but know that you're not alone. You and your art are valid and important. Try to find the joy in the process of creation and to let the rest go. That's the only way I can get anything done.
GIRL, I'm excited for you! I hope that getting your essay published works out. 🖤☺️ Please do share, if/when!
Much though I hate to admit it, I feel like I also rely just a little too heavily on outside validation. I think it's hard not to. It feels amazing to create for the sake of creating, but once I finish a project that feeling is so transient; so fleeting. When I release something new into the world and it falls flat is usually when I'm hit with the "what the hell was I thinking." I both love and hate that about the process because I think it also toughens me up a bit. Like, okay, I made it through that and I'm STILL creating. I often think that the biggest factor in being a successful creative isn't even skills/talent, but just sheer resilience and stubbornness. I rely so heavily on the experiences of other creatives that feel the same way, if I can be honest. When I see people out there creating "successfully" (in my eyes at least) and saying that they're also constantly questioning themselves, it makes me feel like maybe I'm not doing it wrong after all. That perhaps if I didn't question myself that would be indicative of an even bigger problem.
All THAT to say, thank you. 😂🖤 It's invaluable to know that I'm not alone in this. I was talking to a friend once who said to me: "Some people like to be unique in their struggles. And then there's those that find comfort in that they are not alone in their experiences." I am most certainly one of the latter.
I haven't read Big Magic! Looks like I need to go out and find myself a copy though. Thank you so much for the recommendation!
Cheers, my sweet friend. Keep fighting that good fight. I'm here for it. 🖤
Oof. Yes to all of this! Fleeting is the perfect way to describe the finishing process. I'm always like, okay, what's next? And if it doesn't do well then I'm like, see! I knew it! I'm a fraud. I'm a fraud. I'm a fraud. But I just keep going because I don't know how not to, y'know? Like you said, it's about resilience. We must keep going.
You're most certainly not alone, love. You'll see this further when you read Big Magic. If you like audiobooks I definitely recomend getting the audiobook because Liz Gilbert reads it herself and she is truly a gift to this world. xo
One thought: That someone dear to me will die. I feel like I'm always in a state of bracing myself...anything could happen. I'm lucky enough to have never had anyone very close to me pass away. I mean, I still have both sets of grandparents (however their time is coming soon), but no family members other than my great-grandparents when I was young, no pets, no friends. Only friends' losses that I have experienced empathetically, and even that is difficult. The concept of death is beautiful in it's own way, but it is not something I can comprehend well on an emotional level, and I grieve on the daily over "mundane" (probably a better word for this) things more than the average human it seems. Things like nostalgia for my childhood, old loves, getting off of a medication that has been my vice for the last decade but no longer serves me, aging, some of the freedom and individuality I had before I was married, things that haven't even happened yet. I'm positive that I'm not alone in feeling this way, but still it feels like I am. As a highly emotional person, I don't see myself taking grief very well. No one does, but like I said, always bracing myself. It's scary.
My question to you coming soon :)
And do I like that some of your questions had deep-dive answers with separate pieces outside the thread, or would I you rather you keep it simple and share all of you answers here, all in one place? My answer: I don't care. At all. I just want to read what you write.
Grief is something we're never ready for no matter how much we brace ourselves, y'know? When my grandpa was sick and I knew he was going to die, it didn't make it any easier. Or at least it didn't feel like it did. It just drug out the mourning. And even now, grief is a thing that never ends. But it does shift and change. It lightens and makes space with time. When I lost my grandpa, it felt as if the whole world stopped. Then I remember going outside and the sun was still shining and the birds were still chirping and I was like how could everything just keep existing as if everything is okay? And I think the answer is that it continues on so that we can rejoin it when we're ready. It's there waiting for us. At first, I couldn't stand to even hear the birds and their oblivious happiness, but with time, their songs became a comfort again. Grief is something that can't be rushed, y'know? You have to give yourself the time and the grace you need to move through it and get to a place where you can live in the world again and feel the sun on your skin.
I also think that there are different levels of grief, different levels of pain. If something were to happen to my son, I don't see how I would survive it. I don't brace myself for it, because I can't even bear the thought.
Do you feel like you walk around with a heaviness because you're bracing yourself? Or do you think it's just a subtle awareness that exists below the surface?
Love these! My question would be: How you organize and balance your memories into/with art? I’m trying to reclaim the journaling/writing I used to love until early adulthood but privacy breach traumas made writing unsafe for me. My private journals, saved notes between friends, raw messy fiction I used as a pressure release valve during an abusive childhood all got read and weaponized by both my mother and an ex.
After a year of therapy, I feel the true flutter for the first time in almost 10 years. I think I’m finding my desire to artistically express myself devolving into either *explaining* myself or getting overly dramatic in my retelling because I haven’t rebuilt privacy trust with my writing yet. Trauma tells me someone will read it whether I want them to or not so I better put on a good show! It breaks apart the intimacy of writing at all (for me) and I get frustrated missing the natural flow I used to have.
Hopefully that makes sense! I suppose overall I’m curious if you could share how you pull yourself back into the art when (or if!) you get caught up in the need for someone to know what happened.
I am so sorry that happened to you, love. I can only imagine how hard that must have been (and still is) to move through. If you're worried about privacy I'd encourage you to write in a password protected Google doc or using a program like Evernote and lock your notes. That way, you can have the peace of mind and write freely without worry that someone might see it when you're not ready for them to see it.
I am glad you're feeling the flutter though after such a long time. That's one of my favorite feelings in the world, that need to write something down, to tell the story. I don't always have the flutter when I write. Sometimes, I have to just sit down and do the work because it's the goal I've set for myself, but it's a lot more magical when there's something greater than me driving my words.
Letting trauma call the shots on how you write may take more from you than it gives. I know it's hard to shut the trauma, but try to live/write from a place of your inner trust/peace. Trauma is not you, or your current reality, so try not to let it rob you of what your writing could be, and what your writing could give back to you. Have you ever read the book, The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron? It's basically a creativity workbook and it may help you heal your path to writing. It may bring back the natural flow you're missing at the moment. The book has done so much for me, and I am contemplating picking it back up again. Maybe I should start a week or bi-weekly Artist's Way bookclub or writing club next year haha.
For me, I write as if I'm writing into a black hole, as if no one would ever read it. Then I share it when I'm ready. But not everything needs to be shared. That's just my preference. I try to share the raw, uncomfortable things and put it out into the world before I've thought about it too much to talk myself out of sharing it haha. Your family has already breached your privacy, so I'd say do what YOU want to do, regardless of if they're going to read it or not. Don't give them the satisfaction of feeling like you're explaining something TO them or that you're putting on a show for them. I do understand the need/want to explain yourself, though, so in that case, I'd encourage you to write TO yourself. Or to someone who actually cares about you. How would you explain yourself to your partner or how would you explain yourself to yourself? Sorry if this doesn't make sense haha it's kind of hard to explain. It's kind of like the letters I write to my son that I sometimes share here. I'm writing to him, but I'm really writing to myself. There are things I want him to understand, but at the same time, I'm learning what those things are and how to explain them to him, and what they mean to me and about me.
I apologize if none of this is helpful haha. It's hard to know exactly what you're going through or what you're up against. I wish you peace in your writing journey, love. Don't let anyone take that from you.
In regards to your daily thought, whew, I hear you. I think that so often. I'm in constant worry that I'm missing my own life doing the wrong things, y'know? That's why I always have to talk myself out of quitting writing because I'm like, "wait, is this how I'm supposed to spend hours and hours of my time each week on this earth? Does any of these even matter? What am I actually supposed to be doing here?" I don't know if anyone actually knows the answer so every day when you wake up in the morning you just have to let your heart love what it loves and spend your day doing those things, even if it just binging The Office for the hundredth time (which I do a few nights a week. It's my therapy show).
My question: how do you divide/assign/manage life responsibilities between you and your husband? In a question below you answered that you handle everything. How do you keep the boat float and not feel resentful?
I know I should come from a place of gratitude that I get to take care of the baby. But there are times that Mothering feels like it outweighs everything. How do you divide and conquer life together without growing resentments for their freedom?
Thanks for being here, Erin. And thanks for this question. It's a heavy one, and one that I feel deserves a deep dive. The short answer is that I often do feel resentful and I have to reframe my thoughts or rework our responsibilities. Most of the time, neither lasts, but it helps lighten my resentment, if even for a moment. Motherhood never stops and it's equally as exhausting as it is rewarding. I think the other answer here is that Mothering DOES outweigh everything, and I'm not sure there's a way around it. But I do think there's a way to do where YOU still get what you need. I want to write something larger, more in-depth on this whole concept for you, so bear with me as I pull my thoughts together and figure out what format it's going to take. I hope to get something published for you in January. <3
In regards to your daily thought, that's such a hard one, one I had every single day until the year I turned thirty and gave myself the gift of not weighing myself. Did you read my last piece? It's a lot to do with weight and how I needed to shift my thinking. https://jessyeaston.substack.com/p/the-gift-i-gave-myself-that-changed
It's certainly not the antidote to this kind of thinking, but I just want you to know that I've been there and I see you, love. I could write A LOT more about weight and self-worth, but without fully knowing where your thought is coming from (the why behind it), I don't want to overstep and give you a bunch of unsolicited advice that ends up not being relevant for you. I will say that if your self-worth is in anyway wrapped up in the number on the scale, it's time to challenge that way of thinking. Make a list (I know you love lists!) of ALL the other things that make you feel worthy—to yourself (you do NOT need to be worthy to anyone else except maybe your son, which I can assure you, you already are). Live from this place—the place of all the things you are, all the worth, the love, the millions of ways you're special and important and needed. And if your weight has nothing to do with self-worth, then good. You got this, mama.
That I chose the wrong person to father my children.
I feel so ungrateful because we could have it so much worse. But I want the absolute world for my boys and he’s so impatient and doesn’t sacrifice everything for them like I do. Maybe I’m expecting too much. Maybe fathers just aren’t mothers and that’s what I’m wishing for, another mother for them to be so obsessed with their happiness like I am.
That is such a hard thought. I am so sorry that you carry that with you every day. You are allowed to want better for your children. That doesn't make you ungrateful. But I think you might right, fathers are not mothers, and I don't think they will have the same devotion to our children's happiness and wellbeing. The mental load that mother's carry for our children is enough to crush the spirit, but we do it because it's the only way. My husband is an incredible father but even still, I carry everything—booking pediatrician appointments, when to buy diapers, making sure he's getting the right nutrients and drinking enough water, making sure he's where he should be developmentally, following and enforcing a schedule that meets my sons needs, the list goes on. Our children are part of us, literally. Their cells still exist in our body. We will always be directly connected with their happiness. Thank you for sharing here, mama. I hear you and I feel you. I hope you can find piece with this thought. I hope he starts showing up for your boys in a way that soothes your soul and theirs.
My question: what are a few, some, or many "classics" that are must-reads for you? Beyond the beach reads, which books must you not go through life without reading?
I don't really have a list of classics but I can say anything by Steinbeck or Hemingway has my heart. Steinbeck for detail and story and Hemingway for dialogue—I've learned so much from both of them about writing and life. I also love Salinger. I've read Catcher in the Rye an absurd amount of times because I love the naive angsty youth of Holden Caulfield. And I can't deny the writing style of all things Salinger. I love Franny and Zooey as well.
Three books that have stayed with me over the years that I can recommend to you with my whole heart are below:
The Glass Castle, Jeannette Walls - I didn’t want to leave the world it built. I grew so close with the Walls family that I felt like I’d lost something when the book was over. I saw myself so vividly in the protagonist. My fights were her fights, my hopes were her hopes, and my dreams were her dreams. When it was over I felt like I’d lost a piece of myself because it left with her. Every one of the characters are alive and multi-faceted and I felt a world’s worth of emotion toward each one, especially the father. He is the antagonist, but there’s something so achingly endearing about him that it’s hard to dislike him. I was rooting for him too, but mostly because she was rooting for him. I believed in him as much as she did. This is the book that made me realize I could write a memoir, and I SHOULD write one.
All Over But The Shoutin’, Rick Bragg - I felt this on a true visceral level. I cried through much of the book because of the struggle the people had been through as a whole, but also because even through all that struggle their love was big. The love the protagonist had for his mother and his brother, his family, and all the people of the south is the kind of love that gets me out of bed in the morning. The responsibility and burdens that the protagonist placed on his shoulders resonated with me as I have done the same. His drive and passion for a better life for himself and for his family is a driving force so strong that I felt it in my bones. It’s one of the most truly human stories I have ever read and to this day, I can hear his voice in my head when I look at the mountains of the south. It opened up my eyes to classism on a deeper, human level and made me understand the raw struggle of the poor especially in the south. I’d just moved to the south when I read this book and it made the south feel like home. It settled me in here and told the story of its people, making me proud to be here, making me realize what an honor it is to call this home. The writing itself is incredible. I smell the red dirt of the Appalachian foothills, the motor oil on the old car, and the cornbread his momma is cooking. I can feel the humidity in the air, the creaky old wood floors under my feet, and the fabric of the old dresses his momma wears. Every single thing in this book requires the use of all senses, making it a truly living experience.
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou - I’ve never read a more raw and honest book from a child’s perspective. It made my stomach ache with the helplessness that I felt as a child, the helplessness I’ve spent my whole life trying to escape. I was with Maya every step of the way through this book. Her struggle and understanding of the world around her unfolded in my mind as if they were my own. This book taught me how to have compassion for my younger self and to understand her in a way that I could have never accessed before reading it. Aside from the story, I don’t think more beautiful prose have ever been written. This is the book that made me want to be a writer. I’ve never read more beautiful lines. I found myself clutching my heart and saying, “Oh my God” out loud as I read some of her lines. My copy is so underlined it’s almost unreadable at this point. I’ve never seen someone blend raw poetry with story so effortlessly. Maya is a true treasure and I’ve not come across an author with as much heart as her. I could feel it beating in every page, through every line, so much so that sometimes reading it became so emotionally exhausting that I had to take breaks. That’s when you know a book has a beating heart.
Other memoirs I love:
The Recovering by Leslie Jamison
Educated by Tara Westover
Beautiful Boy by David Sheff
Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs
The Liars Club by Mary Karr
Heavy by Kiese Laymon
I'm sure there's a million more, but that's what comes to mind at the moment.
A few contemporary novels I’ve read and flew through:
The Immortalists by Chloe Benjamin
Writers & Lovers by Lily King
The Girls by Emma Cline
Candy by Luke Davies
Norwegian Wood by Murakami
Dept. of Speculation by Jenny Offill
Animal by Lisa Taddeo
Three Women by Lisa Taddeo
All the Ugly and Wonderful Things by Bryn Greenwood
There's sooo many more, but these are books I've read in the last couple of years that I had a hard time putting down.
I have a whole list of poetry/poets if you want them.
What are some of your favorite classics or current reads? Sorry I don't have a bigger list for classics. I've been trying to support living authors so I've shifted my focus on the more contemporary works.
YES; loved the deep dives!
As for the thought I have every day:
"I should give up." I feel like I'm always so close to throwing in the towel. Probably everybody on the outside sees confidence, composure and a sense of direction but in reality I'm constantly exhausted of the struggle, and doubting myself, my talents, and how far I'm willing to go. I feel like a fraud. I feel like I'm reaching for something that I'll never be successful in doing. But why? When will I consider myself successful if not now? How many stories and poems do I have to publish before I'm a successful writer? How many paintings do I need in my portfolio before I can believe I'm a real painter? Is it not enough that I'm PAINTING? That I'm WRITING? When will it feel like I'm not about to fall flat on my face in a puddle of my own shitty creations?
Thank you, Maggie! So glad you liked them. I ended up turning the piece that came from the question you asked into an essay that I'm hoping to get published somewhere. I'll definitely share the link with you if it works out.
Oof. "I should give up." This is my exact answer to this question. Every day I think, "I should quit writing. I can't sustain it and be the present mother I want to be while also doing my pay-the-bills work. I am overextended and something has to go." And then I have to do the exhausting work of talking myself into why my writing is important and then get my ass in the chair to do it. I'm in a constant battle with myself.
So, all the that to say, I hear you. Feeling like a fraud, a hack is something I feel every day. Imposter Syndrome hits me hard. I think your question, "but why" really hits to the center of the issue. Why? Why do I even do this? Why do I need it? What is even the point of it all, y'know? It never feels like enough, does it? Doing the work is not enough. I kept telling myself that if my book was published, then it would be enough, and I'd know that I can really do this. But it never did and here I am, still doing it. But I still don't feel successful and I don't know if I ever will.
I wish I had answers for you, love. But I feel the same exact way. It's like logically I know that art for the sake of art is enough, but there's something inside me that wants more, something that says I can't justify the time I spend on it unless I get published, unless my writing makes me money, unless I get that outside validation.
Have you ever read Big Magic? That book made me cry. It helped me not to put so much pressure on my art and to honor it for what it is and what it does for me. Looks like I may need to give it another read.
Thank you for sharing this with me. I know it's hard to come against this sort of thought day in and day out, but know that you're not alone. You and your art are valid and important. Try to find the joy in the process of creation and to let the rest go. That's the only way I can get anything done.
GIRL, I'm excited for you! I hope that getting your essay published works out. 🖤☺️ Please do share, if/when!
Much though I hate to admit it, I feel like I also rely just a little too heavily on outside validation. I think it's hard not to. It feels amazing to create for the sake of creating, but once I finish a project that feeling is so transient; so fleeting. When I release something new into the world and it falls flat is usually when I'm hit with the "what the hell was I thinking." I both love and hate that about the process because I think it also toughens me up a bit. Like, okay, I made it through that and I'm STILL creating. I often think that the biggest factor in being a successful creative isn't even skills/talent, but just sheer resilience and stubbornness. I rely so heavily on the experiences of other creatives that feel the same way, if I can be honest. When I see people out there creating "successfully" (in my eyes at least) and saying that they're also constantly questioning themselves, it makes me feel like maybe I'm not doing it wrong after all. That perhaps if I didn't question myself that would be indicative of an even bigger problem.
All THAT to say, thank you. 😂🖤 It's invaluable to know that I'm not alone in this. I was talking to a friend once who said to me: "Some people like to be unique in their struggles. And then there's those that find comfort in that they are not alone in their experiences." I am most certainly one of the latter.
I haven't read Big Magic! Looks like I need to go out and find myself a copy though. Thank you so much for the recommendation!
Cheers, my sweet friend. Keep fighting that good fight. I'm here for it. 🖤
Oof. Yes to all of this! Fleeting is the perfect way to describe the finishing process. I'm always like, okay, what's next? And if it doesn't do well then I'm like, see! I knew it! I'm a fraud. I'm a fraud. I'm a fraud. But I just keep going because I don't know how not to, y'know? Like you said, it's about resilience. We must keep going.
You're most certainly not alone, love. You'll see this further when you read Big Magic. If you like audiobooks I definitely recomend getting the audiobook because Liz Gilbert reads it herself and she is truly a gift to this world. xo
One thought: That someone dear to me will die. I feel like I'm always in a state of bracing myself...anything could happen. I'm lucky enough to have never had anyone very close to me pass away. I mean, I still have both sets of grandparents (however their time is coming soon), but no family members other than my great-grandparents when I was young, no pets, no friends. Only friends' losses that I have experienced empathetically, and even that is difficult. The concept of death is beautiful in it's own way, but it is not something I can comprehend well on an emotional level, and I grieve on the daily over "mundane" (probably a better word for this) things more than the average human it seems. Things like nostalgia for my childhood, old loves, getting off of a medication that has been my vice for the last decade but no longer serves me, aging, some of the freedom and individuality I had before I was married, things that haven't even happened yet. I'm positive that I'm not alone in feeling this way, but still it feels like I am. As a highly emotional person, I don't see myself taking grief very well. No one does, but like I said, always bracing myself. It's scary.
My question to you coming soon :)
And do I like that some of your questions had deep-dive answers with separate pieces outside the thread, or would I you rather you keep it simple and share all of you answers here, all in one place? My answer: I don't care. At all. I just want to read what you write.
Grief is something we're never ready for no matter how much we brace ourselves, y'know? When my grandpa was sick and I knew he was going to die, it didn't make it any easier. Or at least it didn't feel like it did. It just drug out the mourning. And even now, grief is a thing that never ends. But it does shift and change. It lightens and makes space with time. When I lost my grandpa, it felt as if the whole world stopped. Then I remember going outside and the sun was still shining and the birds were still chirping and I was like how could everything just keep existing as if everything is okay? And I think the answer is that it continues on so that we can rejoin it when we're ready. It's there waiting for us. At first, I couldn't stand to even hear the birds and their oblivious happiness, but with time, their songs became a comfort again. Grief is something that can't be rushed, y'know? You have to give yourself the time and the grace you need to move through it and get to a place where you can live in the world again and feel the sun on your skin.
I also think that there are different levels of grief, different levels of pain. If something were to happen to my son, I don't see how I would survive it. I don't brace myself for it, because I can't even bear the thought.
Do you feel like you walk around with a heaviness because you're bracing yourself? Or do you think it's just a subtle awareness that exists below the surface?
Love these! My question would be: How you organize and balance your memories into/with art? I’m trying to reclaim the journaling/writing I used to love until early adulthood but privacy breach traumas made writing unsafe for me. My private journals, saved notes between friends, raw messy fiction I used as a pressure release valve during an abusive childhood all got read and weaponized by both my mother and an ex.
After a year of therapy, I feel the true flutter for the first time in almost 10 years. I think I’m finding my desire to artistically express myself devolving into either *explaining* myself or getting overly dramatic in my retelling because I haven’t rebuilt privacy trust with my writing yet. Trauma tells me someone will read it whether I want them to or not so I better put on a good show! It breaks apart the intimacy of writing at all (for me) and I get frustrated missing the natural flow I used to have.
Hopefully that makes sense! I suppose overall I’m curious if you could share how you pull yourself back into the art when (or if!) you get caught up in the need for someone to know what happened.
Daily thought: Am I doing this life right?
I am so sorry that happened to you, love. I can only imagine how hard that must have been (and still is) to move through. If you're worried about privacy I'd encourage you to write in a password protected Google doc or using a program like Evernote and lock your notes. That way, you can have the peace of mind and write freely without worry that someone might see it when you're not ready for them to see it.
I am glad you're feeling the flutter though after such a long time. That's one of my favorite feelings in the world, that need to write something down, to tell the story. I don't always have the flutter when I write. Sometimes, I have to just sit down and do the work because it's the goal I've set for myself, but it's a lot more magical when there's something greater than me driving my words.
Letting trauma call the shots on how you write may take more from you than it gives. I know it's hard to shut the trauma, but try to live/write from a place of your inner trust/peace. Trauma is not you, or your current reality, so try not to let it rob you of what your writing could be, and what your writing could give back to you. Have you ever read the book, The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron? It's basically a creativity workbook and it may help you heal your path to writing. It may bring back the natural flow you're missing at the moment. The book has done so much for me, and I am contemplating picking it back up again. Maybe I should start a week or bi-weekly Artist's Way bookclub or writing club next year haha.
For me, I write as if I'm writing into a black hole, as if no one would ever read it. Then I share it when I'm ready. But not everything needs to be shared. That's just my preference. I try to share the raw, uncomfortable things and put it out into the world before I've thought about it too much to talk myself out of sharing it haha. Your family has already breached your privacy, so I'd say do what YOU want to do, regardless of if they're going to read it or not. Don't give them the satisfaction of feeling like you're explaining something TO them or that you're putting on a show for them. I do understand the need/want to explain yourself, though, so in that case, I'd encourage you to write TO yourself. Or to someone who actually cares about you. How would you explain yourself to your partner or how would you explain yourself to yourself? Sorry if this doesn't make sense haha it's kind of hard to explain. It's kind of like the letters I write to my son that I sometimes share here. I'm writing to him, but I'm really writing to myself. There are things I want him to understand, but at the same time, I'm learning what those things are and how to explain them to him, and what they mean to me and about me.
I apologize if none of this is helpful haha. It's hard to know exactly what you're going through or what you're up against. I wish you peace in your writing journey, love. Don't let anyone take that from you.
In regards to your daily thought, whew, I hear you. I think that so often. I'm in constant worry that I'm missing my own life doing the wrong things, y'know? That's why I always have to talk myself out of quitting writing because I'm like, "wait, is this how I'm supposed to spend hours and hours of my time each week on this earth? Does any of these even matter? What am I actually supposed to be doing here?" I don't know if anyone actually knows the answer so every day when you wake up in the morning you just have to let your heart love what it loves and spend your day doing those things, even if it just binging The Office for the hundredth time (which I do a few nights a week. It's my therapy show).
My question: how do you divide/assign/manage life responsibilities between you and your husband? In a question below you answered that you handle everything. How do you keep the boat float and not feel resentful?
I know I should come from a place of gratitude that I get to take care of the baby. But there are times that Mothering feels like it outweighs everything. How do you divide and conquer life together without growing resentments for their freedom?
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Daily thought: I need to lose weight.
Thanks for being here, Erin. And thanks for this question. It's a heavy one, and one that I feel deserves a deep dive. The short answer is that I often do feel resentful and I have to reframe my thoughts or rework our responsibilities. Most of the time, neither lasts, but it helps lighten my resentment, if even for a moment. Motherhood never stops and it's equally as exhausting as it is rewarding. I think the other answer here is that Mothering DOES outweigh everything, and I'm not sure there's a way around it. But I do think there's a way to do where YOU still get what you need. I want to write something larger, more in-depth on this whole concept for you, so bear with me as I pull my thoughts together and figure out what format it's going to take. I hope to get something published for you in January. <3
In regards to your daily thought, that's such a hard one, one I had every single day until the year I turned thirty and gave myself the gift of not weighing myself. Did you read my last piece? It's a lot to do with weight and how I needed to shift my thinking. https://jessyeaston.substack.com/p/the-gift-i-gave-myself-that-changed
It's certainly not the antidote to this kind of thinking, but I just want you to know that I've been there and I see you, love. I could write A LOT more about weight and self-worth, but without fully knowing where your thought is coming from (the why behind it), I don't want to overstep and give you a bunch of unsolicited advice that ends up not being relevant for you. I will say that if your self-worth is in anyway wrapped up in the number on the scale, it's time to challenge that way of thinking. Make a list (I know you love lists!) of ALL the other things that make you feel worthy—to yourself (you do NOT need to be worthy to anyone else except maybe your son, which I can assure you, you already are). Live from this place—the place of all the things you are, all the worth, the love, the millions of ways you're special and important and needed. And if your weight has nothing to do with self-worth, then good. You got this, mama.
That I chose the wrong person to father my children.
I feel so ungrateful because we could have it so much worse. But I want the absolute world for my boys and he’s so impatient and doesn’t sacrifice everything for them like I do. Maybe I’m expecting too much. Maybe fathers just aren’t mothers and that’s what I’m wishing for, another mother for them to be so obsessed with their happiness like I am.
That is such a hard thought. I am so sorry that you carry that with you every day. You are allowed to want better for your children. That doesn't make you ungrateful. But I think you might right, fathers are not mothers, and I don't think they will have the same devotion to our children's happiness and wellbeing. The mental load that mother's carry for our children is enough to crush the spirit, but we do it because it's the only way. My husband is an incredible father but even still, I carry everything—booking pediatrician appointments, when to buy diapers, making sure he's getting the right nutrients and drinking enough water, making sure he's where he should be developmentally, following and enforcing a schedule that meets my sons needs, the list goes on. Our children are part of us, literally. Their cells still exist in our body. We will always be directly connected with their happiness. Thank you for sharing here, mama. I hear you and I feel you. I hope you can find piece with this thought. I hope he starts showing up for your boys in a way that soothes your soul and theirs.
My question: what are a few, some, or many "classics" that are must-reads for you? Beyond the beach reads, which books must you not go through life without reading?
Hi Tyler,
I don't really have a list of classics but I can say anything by Steinbeck or Hemingway has my heart. Steinbeck for detail and story and Hemingway for dialogue—I've learned so much from both of them about writing and life. I also love Salinger. I've read Catcher in the Rye an absurd amount of times because I love the naive angsty youth of Holden Caulfield. And I can't deny the writing style of all things Salinger. I love Franny and Zooey as well.
Three books that have stayed with me over the years that I can recommend to you with my whole heart are below:
The Glass Castle, Jeannette Walls - I didn’t want to leave the world it built. I grew so close with the Walls family that I felt like I’d lost something when the book was over. I saw myself so vividly in the protagonist. My fights were her fights, my hopes were her hopes, and my dreams were her dreams. When it was over I felt like I’d lost a piece of myself because it left with her. Every one of the characters are alive and multi-faceted and I felt a world’s worth of emotion toward each one, especially the father. He is the antagonist, but there’s something so achingly endearing about him that it’s hard to dislike him. I was rooting for him too, but mostly because she was rooting for him. I believed in him as much as she did. This is the book that made me realize I could write a memoir, and I SHOULD write one.
All Over But The Shoutin’, Rick Bragg - I felt this on a true visceral level. I cried through much of the book because of the struggle the people had been through as a whole, but also because even through all that struggle their love was big. The love the protagonist had for his mother and his brother, his family, and all the people of the south is the kind of love that gets me out of bed in the morning. The responsibility and burdens that the protagonist placed on his shoulders resonated with me as I have done the same. His drive and passion for a better life for himself and for his family is a driving force so strong that I felt it in my bones. It’s one of the most truly human stories I have ever read and to this day, I can hear his voice in my head when I look at the mountains of the south. It opened up my eyes to classism on a deeper, human level and made me understand the raw struggle of the poor especially in the south. I’d just moved to the south when I read this book and it made the south feel like home. It settled me in here and told the story of its people, making me proud to be here, making me realize what an honor it is to call this home. The writing itself is incredible. I smell the red dirt of the Appalachian foothills, the motor oil on the old car, and the cornbread his momma is cooking. I can feel the humidity in the air, the creaky old wood floors under my feet, and the fabric of the old dresses his momma wears. Every single thing in this book requires the use of all senses, making it a truly living experience.
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou - I’ve never read a more raw and honest book from a child’s perspective. It made my stomach ache with the helplessness that I felt as a child, the helplessness I’ve spent my whole life trying to escape. I was with Maya every step of the way through this book. Her struggle and understanding of the world around her unfolded in my mind as if they were my own. This book taught me how to have compassion for my younger self and to understand her in a way that I could have never accessed before reading it. Aside from the story, I don’t think more beautiful prose have ever been written. This is the book that made me want to be a writer. I’ve never read more beautiful lines. I found myself clutching my heart and saying, “Oh my God” out loud as I read some of her lines. My copy is so underlined it’s almost unreadable at this point. I’ve never seen someone blend raw poetry with story so effortlessly. Maya is a true treasure and I’ve not come across an author with as much heart as her. I could feel it beating in every page, through every line, so much so that sometimes reading it became so emotionally exhausting that I had to take breaks. That’s when you know a book has a beating heart.
Other memoirs I love:
The Recovering by Leslie Jamison
Educated by Tara Westover
Beautiful Boy by David Sheff
Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs
The Liars Club by Mary Karr
Heavy by Kiese Laymon
I'm sure there's a million more, but that's what comes to mind at the moment.
A few contemporary novels I’ve read and flew through:
The Immortalists by Chloe Benjamin
Writers & Lovers by Lily King
The Girls by Emma Cline
Candy by Luke Davies
Norwegian Wood by Murakami
Dept. of Speculation by Jenny Offill
Animal by Lisa Taddeo
Three Women by Lisa Taddeo
All the Ugly and Wonderful Things by Bryn Greenwood
There's sooo many more, but these are books I've read in the last couple of years that I had a hard time putting down.
I have a whole list of poetry/poets if you want them.
What are some of your favorite classics or current reads? Sorry I don't have a bigger list for classics. I've been trying to support living authors so I've shifted my focus on the more contemporary works.