#it was such a good medium for trauma and ghost is an amazing figure to project and write these things onto for me

[lydia-bell]

The Twelfth Time’s the Charm

Happy TBTP Holidays, @mysugarglidersrox​! I wrote you a bit of AU Stragan fluff (mostly). I hope you enjoy it!

[Edit: now with AO3 link!]

The Twelfth Time’s the Charm

Alex finally made it to the front of the line for signings. She'd let everyone else go ahead of her because she wanted to have a bit of fun without worrying that she was holding anyone else up. Handing the hardcover to the author, she said "I'm really looking forward to reading this. The chapter you read was pretty compelling."

"Thank you," he said, giving a small nod of acknowledgement. He was even prettier up close, those bright blue eyes catching and holding her attention. 

"So, to whom shall I make this out?"

"Alex Reagan." She waited to see if he would make the connection.

"Is that spelled with..." his voice trailed off. He looked up at her, his brow slightly furrowed. "Alex Reagan. Have we met?"

"No, we never did quite manage it," she replied lightly. Maybe if I'd called a twelfth time."

He actually looked abashed. It was a good look on him. "Of course. The reporter." Then his eyes narrowed a bit and he said, "I hope you aren't still trying to get me to agree to an interview."

"Nope. We wrapped on that story months ago. I just thought it would be fun."

He relaxed then and started to sign her book. "Is 'Reagan' spelled with or without an 'a'?"

"With. It used to be pronounced like the president but I guess my dad's family decided they didn't want the association. It was easier to change the pronunciation than the spelling."

He laughed, signed the book, and handed it back to her. 

"I hope you didn't take it personally when I didn't call back, Ms. Reagan. But at the time, I was very much focused on finishing this book, and in any event I'm afraid I've never enjoyed talking with the press."

"It's OK, lots of people don't."

"I presume you were able to find someone else to talk to."

"Oh, sure. Though the whole 'paranormal investigator' well ran a little dry after that. Maybe if you'd returned my calls, we could have done a whole series on it," she teased. 

"I'm sure I'm not that fascinating," he demurred.

"Oh, I don't know."

He chuckled. "You have a way with flattery, Ms. Reagan."

"Alex."

"Alex. I haven't had dinner yet. Would you be interested in joining me?"

"I think I'd like that a lot, yeah."

***

Strand—he'd said to call him Richard but she was struggling a bit to adjust—wanted some good, fresh seafood because "it's not the same in Chicago." That was fine with Alex, so they found an oyster bar a couple of blocks from the bookstore. Once they'd placed their orders, and thus run out of obvious small-talk fodder, she wasn’t sure what to say next. She was feeling oddly nervous, like this was a date with stakes instead of a spur-of-the-moment meal with a (granted, hot) former prospective interview subject.

She decided to ease into the conversation by asking about something she knew he would want to talk about.

"So, what inspired you to write your book?"

"I'm trying to do my part to encourage rational thinking in the world, against the tide of all of the forces that seem to be pushing in the opposite direction."

It was really unreasonable, Alex reflected, to be attracted to someone who talked like that all the time. But here she was. "Sure, but I meant more like, why this particular book, and why you?"

"Let's just say that I have experience with," he paused, "family members who have turned to the occult in times of crisis. It didn't provide the answers they were looking for, and it probably prevented them from doing something more useful."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thank you."

They both fell quiet for a moment as the waiter brought their food. When he'd gone, Richard continued as if he'd never stopped.

"The impulse to turn to paranormal explanations is understandable in some ways. Especially for people who have suffered trauma, or who lack a proper understanding of science and statistics. Other people have a psychological need to feel that they're special, that they have secret knowledge of some hidden aspect of the world. Some people are just looking for a break from the mundane. Of course there are other outlets that for these impulses—things like conspiracy theories or radical political movements, for instance. Either way, if people aren't careful about how they get their needs met, they can become targets. They can delude themselves. I want to prevent that, as much as I can."

"Wow," Alex said. "I guess that's...I don't know, deeper than I expected it to be?" Off his raised eyebrow she added, "That may have come out wrong. I guess I just expected something more along the lines of the videos I've seen you in."

"Ah, yes. Less human nature, more ripping apart the claims of charlatans."

"Something like that, yeah."

"Well," he admitted, "there's some of that too."

Alex laughed.

"Speaking of charlatans," Richard continued, "I certainly hope you found someone to represent the rational point of view on your show."

"We couldn't really find another person with your particular profile, but we did talk to a couple of skeptics. And a woman named Arianna Asadi called me..."

Richard groaned softly.

Alex laughed. "What? She said she heard I'd been calling around to paranormal researchers, and she wanted to make sure I didn't get the wrong idea. She warned me off of them!"

Richard huffed. "Ms. Asadi is an odd case. She purports to be a serious researcher. She even offers very well-founded debunkings of the ghost hunters and so-called psychics who prey on people looking for answers and meaning. And then she publishes books about 'historical hauntings'. I believe she's actually sincere, but it's all very frustrating."

"Well, she thinks highly of you."

"And what makes you say that?"

"That she said she admires your body of work." He actually blushed a little. Alex grinned and continued. "Anyway, you're right about the debunking. She asked who I'd talked to so far, and when I told her, she immediately listed off all these tricks they do to make it seem like lights are going out on their own and things like that. It was amazing, she basically described everything that happened with Emily Dumont and the old psych hospital. I think Dumont must do the same stuff a lot."

"Oh, I assure you, she does."

"See, it could have been you, explaining all this to our listeners," she teased.

"It could. But to be honest, knowing that you'd been talking to people like Dumont and Abruzzi, I wasn't sure what kind of show you were making or whether I wanted to be part of it. And anyway, I needed to focus on my book. I'm trying to reach as wide an audience as possible."

"Well, that episode was only downloaded 100,000 times, so I can see how that might not be a big enough audience."

His eyes widened. "I apologize. To be honest, I have no idea how many people listen to shows like yours. I'm not really familiar with the podcasting medium."

"I'd noticed."

"I shouldn't have assumed."

It was fun having him a bit on on defensive, a bit flustered. "It wasn't very intellectually rigorous of you."

"It wasn't," he agreed.

"It did help that we got a big boost from the mothership—from Pacific Northwest Stories," she admitted. "But yeah, the show's doing pretty well, and we have enough sponsors these days to keep us in plane tickets and free socks, so I have no complaints. Well. I might want to do something a little more substantial at some point. But this is fun."

"So if you were to do something a little more substantial, as you say, what would it be?"

"I don't know. Maybe people who are working on climate change mitigation. Like, we still have to think about reducing emissions, but there are lots of people who've just basically decided that's not going to work or it's not going to be enough and are figuring out how they're going to live in the new climate. It's kind of depressing? But also kind of hopeful. There's a lot of people doing that work around Seattle. A lot of Indigenous people, in particular. I don't think it would be hard to at least get a mini-series out of it."

"That's a big departure from interviewing Emily Dumont."

She laughed. "It is! Don't get me wrong, I definitely think there's room for both kinds of stories in the world. All kinds of stories. But I just feel like I want to branch out a little."

"Well, I hope you get a chance to do that show sometime soon," he said. "It sounds like a subject worthy of your talents."

OK, wow. And he'd said she had a way with flattery. "Thanks. So, um. What about you, what's next for you?" she asked.

"I had to basically put the functions of the Strand Institute on hiatus while I finished the book, so I'll work on getting that running again," he said. "Also, as it happens, I'll probably be back in Seattle a few times in the next few months."

"Oh?"

"Yes, my father lived here before his death. No condolences necessary," he said, pre-empting her, "it was almost 20 years ago now. But there are still some aspects of his estate that need to be dealt with, including the sale of his house."

"Oh, well. I can show you around, if you'd like. When you come back."

"I would like that very much."

The waiter came with the check. Alex started to say something about paying her share but Richard said "Please, allow me. I did invite you to dinner, after all." She had to admit to herself, as she watched the waiter show Richard how to settle the bill on his iPad, it was something of a relief; the prices had been frankly terrifying on a journalist's salary.

As they were walking back to her parking spot, they passed a quiet-looking bar. Richard stopped in front of it.

"Would you like to get a drink?" he asked.

Yes. She took a deep breath. "It sounds nice, but, I don't think that's a good idea. I had that beer with dinner, and it was a while ago so I should be OK, but I have to drive."

"Of course." He hesitated for a moment. "Although, if you don't want to drive home...you don't have to."

"Ah." It wasn't a complete surprise, but—OK, yes, maybe she was stereotyping because of his age and his manner, but he hadn't struck her as a sex-on-the-first-date kind of guy.

She must have come across as pretty unenthusiastic, because he added, "That's not why I paid for dinner."

"I know." And she did. He wasn't really smooth enough to be a manipulator...unless, of course, he was such a good manipulator that he was only faking the bluntness and questionable social graces in order to lure her into a false sense of security.

It didn't seem likely.

Did she want to have sex with him? (Well, yeah.) Did she even like him? Everybody had said he was kind of a prick, and they weren't wrong. But he wasn't just that, either. Maybe it was his obvious passion for his work, or maybe it was just that she'd seldom known anyone quite so confidently, exasperatingly himself—even if that self might be, well, a little stuffy and self-important. He wasn't even a little bit charming but he was somehow still endearing. (He'd also been very respectful to the waitstaff, and that was always a good sign.)

She was pretty sure she liked him. He was a challenge, no doubt—but Alex was never deterred by a challenge. But she had a stupidly early morning tomorrow and also, God, she hadn't worn her pretty underwear or shaved or anything, and it was silly, yes, but she liked to make a good first impression.

And then she imagined saying that out loud and how ridiculous he would find it. "The male libido," she imagined him saying sternly, "isn't deterred by those things. Women are far more concerned about their body hair than men are."

God help her, the thought made her giggle. She suppressed it, though—it didn't seem polite to start laughing right after someone asked you to sleep with them. "I'm very, very tempted," she said. "But it's late, and I have an 8am meeting for some ungodly reason."

"I understand."

"But," she continued, poking him gently in the chest, "I'm going to hold you to that promise to look me up the next time you're in Seattle."

He smiled, probably the warmest smile she'd seen on him all night. He really was very attractive, damn it. "Good."

In a couple of minutes they were back at her car. Neither one of them seemed to be sure what to do next, so she unlocked it, but didn't make a move to get in.

"Do you want me to drive you back to your hotel?" 

"What? Oh. No, thank you. I'll be fine." He seemed very distracted all of a sudden, like he was looking past her, or just a bit over her head. She turned around, but there was nothing there. Just deep shadows.

"Everything OK?"

"Of course. I just thought I saw something." 

"OK. Well. Good night?"

"Good night." A bit hesitantly, he bent toward her.

He was so tall, she had to almost get on tiptoes to kiss him. It started out light, but they both lingered and it quickly became intense. Not sloppy, do-me-right-here-right-now intense, more like... like there was a lot of feeling under that buttoned-down exterior. They stepped further into each other's space; he was so much bigger than her that his embrace was like being wrapped up in a cloak, and it could have been intimidating but it wasn't, it was warm, it was hot. He ran one hand through her hair and gently cupped the back of her head to pull her closer. Fuck, it was good.

To hell with 8am meetings, she thought. To hell with next time. She deserved some fun.

She pulled away, not far, but far enough to look him in the eye and say, "I think...I think I'd like to take you up on your offer after all."

His hand was still in her hair. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

They got into the car to drive back to his hotel. She fumbled her keys a bit, making them both chuckle in that high-strung way of people who know something's about to happen. As they pulled away, she noticed that Richard was looking back at that same spot.

It was weird—all she could see were shadows.

[asktheghosthost]

Thoughts on the “Marry me!” Melanie ending...

I’m posting this under a read more because it’s a long ramble. I normally don’t go so heavy into this sort of thing, because when you get down to it, we’re discussing theme park rides. I try not to be very judgmental. It is all meant to be entertainment, and these are just works of fiction. But... hoo boy... This whole thing has pissed me off, and if you want to know why, keep reading. 

TW for mentions of abuse.

Okay, I know I said I'm not that emotionally invested, but I'm going to keep ranting, because the more I think about this, the more it makes me angry. Also, my pain meds are probably making me slightly loopy and irritable. And this is my blog, and I'll post what I want.

Melanie is a woman who, despite her trauma, the loneliness, the torment she was dealt at the hands of the Phantom-- whether you saw him as a controlling father, or demonic spirit, or rejected suitor, etc-- still found the power within herself to say "Not today," and rescue each curious mortal who wandered into her home. At that point, she is a skeletal shell of herself. She still musters the energy to get you to safety. Then asks you to come back because she's dying of loneliness, but I digress.

That is a heroic act. Melanie is a hero. She doesn't ask us to save her. She's already dead. But we have our lives ahead of us, so she'll see to it we escape safely. In spite of these hardships, she remains a selfless, caring person. And if she can out maneuver Phanny's power in some way, you can argue she wields some kind of supernatural power or influence of her own. We're going into fanfic territory with that, though.

My anger is in taking a strong, heroic figure, one that would be typically seen as the weak damsel, and then having her lose, having her succumb to the Phantom's influence, and then-- this is the heart of my annoyance-- treating her trauma as a joke. That was what made me so angry, was Tom Fitzgerald saying light-heartedly, "She's gone a little stir crazy." So we've got arguably straight up character assassination. And then, "She's been abused by her dad for a couple of centuries. It's a little kooky! Lulz!" The giggly "Will you marry me?" only adds to that. She isn't desperately seeking a savior. It's playfully sinister and stereotypically "batty." They are trying to make it humorous.

This is where I fail as a writer, because I can't really put into words the emotions that concept brings up in me. Not really shock. A little hurt, maybe? Offended? No one in the writer's room raised and hand and was like, "Guys, might want to rethink this one. We're good with Melanie snapping after years of her dad's cruelty, instead of being the hero? The villain wins? And it's funny? Trauma is silly? Okay..."

I'm fine with subverting tropes. The heroes don't always have to win. People cope with/ are affected by abuse in different ways. I think if this were a brand new attraction, we'd probably be way more forgiving and curious. But Melanie was already a subverted trope, an idea done well in an attraction that arguably had a few flaws. She dealt with her trauma in an admirable way... At least after death. She became a hero who wasn't going to allow her tormentor to harm another soul.

Now, the manipulative, controlling, abuser wins, and the victim is a twisted version of her former self. The magic of Disney (TM) (C) 

The existence of ghosts and magic and mediums can be debated all day. But parents who abuse their children? That happens. That is a very real evil. To see Melanie not escape that... it's a little soul crushing. And to further make it a punchline? It's distasteful. Maybe I'm being a hypocrite. After all, the Mansion is full of morbid humor. But at least when the Ghost Host references his suicide, he's not the butt of anyone's jokes but his own. And therein lies the difference.

I’m hoping when the revamped ride opens, it’s amazing, and that our pessimism is way off the mark. I want to be wrong. I want this to be great. I hope that this whole “She’s gone stir crazy” concept is maybe out of proper context, and this ending somehow works. I hope she’s still a hero. I want her to still be herself. We’ll have to wait and see. 

[frighthouseofalighthouse]

Hey no problem! I hope it helped distract you for a bit! I'm glad I could give you something to write and maybe cheer you up a bit with some genuinely deep questions. I always feel good telling stories and sharing things I love! I can only hope it helps you too!

Thanks so much for sending a follow up message! I’m actually doing kind of shitty rn so I logged on to reblog the other ask with my answers and saw that you sent a followup! So this makes it easier!

Here are all the botanical asks:

Jasmine: Which mythological figure do you wish actually existed?

100% dragons!!! I want big dragons who I keep in my backyard, I want dragons the size of medium dogs, I want non-firebreathing dragons the size of bunnies! I! Want! Dragons!

Lavender: Soundcloud or vinyls?

This is weird because I don’t actually use either, but vinyls I guess???

Primrose: What book does everyone need to read right now?

Heretics Anonymous by Katie Henry! I read it on new year’s day (yes, just one day, it was that good). It takes place at a Catholic school, and it’s about a group of kids who form a secret club (the name is the title) who challenge the social norms of the Church in passive and ACTIVE ways. It’s about coming together for a common cause and overcoming differences in faith, and it’s about overwhelming love and acceptance, and how that’s what true faith should be. And it’s super, super funny.

Lunar Mist: Do you like wearing other people’s shirts/jackets?

I don’t do it too often currently, but yeah!!!

Bird of Paradise: What was the best thing that happened to you this month?

Probably the church youth conference I went to last weekend, where we talked about hope. I really needed a booster on that subject, and it was so amazing to be surrounded by other Christian youth so care about, support, and love me. It really got me thinking about the hope I need to keep feeding in order to overcome all the darkness I’ve faced in my life. And that no matter how bad I feel some days, I am SO SO glad to be alive (which logically I shouldn’t be, so it’s honestly a miracle and a great deal of the basis for my faith.)

Gardenia: What’s a promise you’ve recently made to yourself?

That I will always, always check on other people, because it’s not always visible when their hope is dim. And because I’ve already lost too many.

Lion’s Fairytale: Would you rather be in the sky, the ocean, or the forests?

The forests!!!! The ocean scares me, and the sky is weird. But there’s something about shade, and trees, and moss, and a rustling breeze, man.

Whirling Butterflies: Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

I have never said this before because prior to this, it was somebody different, but...YES. a thousand times yes!

Marmalade Skies: Do you plan your outfits?

Most of the time, yeah lmao

Apricot Drift: How do you feel right now?

Down in the dumps and depressed for like, literally no reason other than my brain chemistry. But I’m managing. And I get to eat dinner and watch Wheel of Fortune soon.

Everlasting Daisy: What’s the last dream you remember having?

Last night it was something about a ghost in our house and my stepdad wouldn’t believe it even though we saw a roll of toilet paper floating across the living room.

Queen’s Cup: What are you craving right now?

Pizza, pasta, ice cream, potato chips. XD

Lavender Dream: Turn ons/offs?

This is a really complicated question so I hope it’s cool if I just leave it blank for now??? Presently sex is a difficult subject for me because I am incapable of much physical intimacy as a result of trauma and just recently figured this out.

Water Lilly: When was the last time you cried? Why?

This morning because my stupid fucking state passed the Heartbeat Bill and it’s going to ruin so many women’s lives.

Lily of the Valley: Did the one person who hurt you most in your life apologize?

No. And I doubt she ever will. She doesn’t even acknowledge that she put me through hell, she’s still busy pinning everything on me.

Winterberry: Do you bite or lick your ice cream?

I take one bite off the top of the cone so it doesn’t fall over, then the rest is licking.

Honey Perfume: Favorite movie ever?

WONDER WOMAN. ALWAYS WONDER WOMAN

Desert Rose: Do you like yourself?

Occasionally. But I’m getting to a place of yes. Slowly.

Snapdragon: Have you ever met or seen in person a celebrity?

Sort of? Not super major ones but yeah. When I was 11 I met the band Gaelic Storm, when I was 14 I met the Christian pop artist Britt Nicole at a meet and greet, and in the past 3 years I’ve met two nationally bestselling authors who are from my area AND gotten signed books and writing advice from both of them: Cinda Williams Chima and Mindy McGinnis.

Night Owl: how many countries have you visited?

One, just the US

Heliotrope: Have you ever been in a castle?

NO, I WISH, IF I WENT IN A CASTLE I’D NEVER LEAVE. The closest things I’ve been in are Stan Hywet Hall in Akron, Ohio, and Biltmore House in Asheville, North Carolina.

Creams and Sky: What’s the craziest/bravest thing you’ve ever done?

Gotten up and done an Irish jig in front of a bunch of people at a folk music festival when I was like...10 maybe. idk, I can’t think of much lmao

Lantana: What’s on your mind right now?

I need to call my uncle because I made plans to watch a movie with him tonight and I really don’t feel like it.

Pumpkin Patch: What’s your zodiac sign?

Pisces sun, Capricorn moon, Leo Rising. And my Chinese zodiac is the metal dragon!

Tulip: Name 5 facts about yourself?

1) I have crooked pinkies, a result of extra tendons in the fingers which also cause reduced flexibility 2) I’ve never been to DisneyWorld and I hate amusement parks but I would love to go 3) I’ve been creatively writing since I was 6 years old 4) I took a sewing class when I was like 12 and made like pillow cases and a throw pillow and some curtains and stuff but I probably remember like none of it 5) I’ve had a lot of dreams/memories/weird experiences which lead me to believe that I had a past life.

Daphne: Do you believe in karma?

A form of it, yes. I believe God brings justice to those who deserve punishment in his own time. It’s hard to wait on it.

Queen of the Meadow: Ever been in love?

Yes, I fall in love super easily lmao

Wisteria: Whom do you admire and why?

Easy answer - my mom, because she’s overcome so much and been an amazing mother and teacher, even though she doesn’t believe she’s done well enough for me.

Angel’s Face: What was your favorite bedtime story as a child?

Lord of the Rings!

Now there’s still a lot more of these, but tumblr has a paragraph limit on posts now, so I WILL reblog this with the rest of the answers later this evening, I promise!

[alifeenrouteblog]

Why I Haven't Been Writing Lately

First, the boring stuff. Since going full-time with my business, Tall Hair Creative, I’ve had less time. Yes, that’s a very boring reason. And it’s an even weaker excuse. But let’s just start here.

Exactly one year ago, I was one-month into my unemployment, just back from a trip to Europe, and had just received my first unemployment paycheck. That was the life. Around this time, I decided I would take as long as I needed to in order to recover from my 9-5 bullshit life. For the past four years, I had been told by bosses, but mostly coworkers, how I was not professional, I was abrasive, lacked interpersonal skills, and every time I might have hurt someone’s feelings. I had been changing for years, disguising it as professional growth. It wasn’t. I was manipulated.

My parents were understandably frustrated af when I told them I would not be diving into a job search. I didn’t want to rush into another terribly emotionally abusive job. Having done a fair amount of job searching in Cleveland, I already knew there wasn’t a lot of job opportunities. I knew there were even fewer prospects of finding an organization that I would actually like to work for and would truly accept my personality, work style, and the work I do here on this blog. Because I should also mention at this point, I had started my blog just a few months before I was given the axe; my writing on here until this point was, while still authentic and vulnerable, but pretty safe. I didn’t write about dating or sex. I definitely had not mentioned my family or past abuse. What started out as a HR consultant/executive coaching blog, quickly evolved into something much more ‘me’, unapologetically. This trajectory was happening before my unemployment, but I didn’t make the decision to fully dig into it until almost exactly a year ago.

So, to recap: May 2018, I found myself unemployed with a lot of free time, a newfound sense of peace, but also a desire to explore the demons that have been holding me back for decades. I spent my days reorganizing my apartment to something that I loved and truly worked for me, and I spent my evenings getting drunk on rose on my back patio or at the pizzeria attached to my place, furiously typing into the MacBook Air I just purchased weeks before with the entirety of my savings account. It wasn’t a savings account for purchasing a home, but more for travel and buying laptops when you get fired.

I would write for hours every night. I got into a rhythm. I started refining my writing and I felt like I was on to something. Then I started publishing my good shit. Then I started to get some really amazing feedback from readers. Mostly friends, but some strangers, either way ��� it was affirming. People were telling me how relatable my writing was. How they loved my openness. How my raw honesty spoke to them, made them feel less alone. And I was hooked.

I spent months doing this. Until I realized I had about 3 months left of unemployment cash coming in and I knew I had to come up with some plan to make money. This is the point when I started to conceptualize Tall Hair Creative. What I was thinking my business would look like at this point, was pretty different than what it is today. It’s gone through multiple iterations since August 2018. All of which I love. The most surprising has definitely been my selling my photography.

Another big thing I did when I lost my job was get a boudoir shoot. This was a big moment for me for a lot of reasons, which you can read about in this post. But I should mention here, that it was a turning point for me that I didn’t want to work anywhere that would disqualify me or judge me based on my sharing of these beautiful photos of myself. This photoshoot also sparked an interest in photography. Sometime in July of last year, I purchased a Canon Rebel, which if you don’t know is the cheapest DSLR camera you can get, and I started teaching myself photography. My original goal when purchasing the camera was to be able to capture pretty photos for my Instagram, in order to get more followers, and drive my traffic to my blog, which would obviously enable me to get a book deal in no time. It was all writing related. But I quickly learned that it was hard (impossible) to take photos of myself, especially if I didn’t know how to use the damn thing in the first place. In order to teach myself, I started offering free photoshoots on Instagram to anyone that would let me practice. This was one of my best decisions I ever made. I made a lot of cool friends this way and it turned out to be a great way for me to learn the art of photography. I distinctly remember texting Kate Kaput, while editing her photos and confused af, telling her that I had spent hours that day trying to learn how to edit photos, even though I needed to do other stuff, like look for a job. I followed that up with something like “That probably means I should be doing this for a living.” I was fucking right Anyway, all of that to say, I have been very surprised that my photography services were really the only thing that took off in Cleveland; and it changed the scope of my business quite a bit.

After blissful unemployment ended and my business (mainly, photography) was picking up, I stopped writing as much. Not only was it less time available, but it was less creative time and/or space in my head. I was putting all of my creativity into launching and marketing my business. To make matters ‘worse’, I was ghosted by someone I adored, and lost my interest in dating completely, which was fine, but made for less writing content. At that point, I had been really into writing about dating, and even became a top writer for Medium in the category of Love.

Suddenly, I was left with little time to write and no content to write about. And I’ve been riding that ever since. I’ve come up with a few things and I’ve reworked a few existing essays and put them up here, but as I’ve been saying for months now, I have not written anything I am especially proud of in SO LONG. Maybe six months. I’m not sure. This move didn’t help much either. It fucked up my writing and it fucked up my business. Moving to Denver, meant losing all my photography clients, i.e. the most profitable part of my business, but it also meant a total mindfuck. When I got the news from my best-friend-at-one-point/landlord, I was devastated. And when my mom said I could not move in with her, I was…I don’t even know what the word is. It’s something like almost being dead, but not quite dead, but kind of wish you were because it would be easier. Something so much deeper than depressed. I was depressed when Brian ended my lease/our friendship. But when my mom said I could not live with her, I felt my whole world end.

It wasn’t a surprise to any of my close friends that my mom said no. And they’ve all expressed, at least at one point, that they are glad I did not move in with my mom because they knew it wasn’t good for my mental health or our relationship. They’re not wrong. But that didn’t stop the life-crushing depression I experienced for two weeks after speaking with Brian and my mom. I couldn’t leave my bed. This has happened to me before, in rare instances of depression, but only for a day or two – MAX. Never have I experienced depression this bad for two weeks. I was tired all of the time. I slept a lot. Even when I wasn’t sleeping, I was in my bed. When I got up to go to the bathroom, I was exhausted by the time I was walking back into my bed. When Erin invited me to live with her, it was a god-send, and amazing, but it didn’t really end my depression. The anxiety and trauma of trying to figure out where I would live was gone. But the loss of my relationships with my best friend and my mother remained very present in every breath I took.

Moving to Denver gave me something to reach for. I now had stuff to do for something that was happening. I worked on selling 90% of my belongings. I started texting my close friends what was happening and telling them about my move to Denver, letting them know before I announced anything on social media. My dear friend, Colleen, said something that really caught my breath at the moment and stayed with me, even now. When I told her what was happening and I was moving to Denver, she said, “Aww Steph! I wish you the best and am here for you if you need anything. The mountains are beautiful and I hope they bring you what you need.” I loved that she said ‘I hope the mountains bring what you need’. I’ve always been a big believer in the healing powers of water, specifically bodies of water, and to be honest, the lack of ocean or lakes in Denver made me nervous, but Colleen got me thinking about stuff differently. I started to get excited.

I had a plan, I was getting excited, and then I went to Japan, which only made me more excited to move to Denver. It just wasn’t good for writing. I did write about my travel experiences to Japan, here and here, and an essay about dating, and the trip did give me a lot of healing and clarifying, and opportunities to write, but when I got home I had to hit the ground running when it came to the cross-country move.

I was so overwhelmed and my depression started to kick in again. In one of my greatest moments of vulnerability, I asked my greatest friend, Brittany, to help me. But not just help me like a normal person. I asked her to come over and make a to-do list with me and then run errands with me. I was so overwhelmed I couldn’t handle everything I had to do, so I just didn’t do anything. Brittany didn’t even hesitate. Actually, she was really excited. When I told her exactly how I was feeling and exactly what I needed from her, her reply: “OMG YES! Can we make lists and cross stuff of as we do them?” I had never been so grateful to have such a nerd for my greatest friend. She came over, we did shit, and we started crossing stuff off the to do list. She came over a total of 9 times, in the two weeks between coming back from Japan and leaving for Denver. Sometimes just to literally sit in my passenger’s seat and drive with me do errands. It sounds simple, but I could not have done it without her. She also did really big stuff too. She packed boxes (and somehow tapped them perfectly). She dropped things off at MULTIPLE donation centers. She did so much. I will never be able to express my gratitude to her for everything she did for me during this time. Even before the moving stuff got rolling, when I was deep in my depression, she would check on me every day.

I have loved Brittany since the day I met at her; on her first day at work at Cleveland Metropolitan School District. She was so cute and polite. I was so jaded and broken by that point. Our first interaction: we were in an All Team meeting, someone (one of our terrible bosses) used a yellow dry erase marker on the whiteboard, it obviously didn’t show up and Brittany sweetly said, not quite to herself, but not to anyone specific, “Oh, I’ve never seen a yellow dry erase marker before.” No one else was listening to her, but I heard her and I snarkly responded with “There’s a lot of things here you’ve never seen before.” And she laughed, like a lot. A laugh that was real and told me we would be friends. At the very least work friends. Almost four years later, I can safely say she is my greatest friend. I tell her this often, either directly or in writing, that I’ve never met anyone like her. She is the kindest soul I’ve ever had the pleasure of interacting with. She is patient with me. She asks questions before judging. She always focuses on the positive. She has never told me I’ve done something wrong. It’s mind boggling to me, because we are so so different, but other than my brother, I’ve never felt closer to another soul. She is truly the greatest. I truly hope everyone has a Brittany in their life. If not, please go find someone. And a side note – check out her executive coaching business because she’s an extremely gifted coach, and she also just got a super amazing prestigious job that she 100000% deserves.

Ok, so this isn’t a love letter to Brittany. Although, I have been trying to write her a letter for over a month now, so maybe this is the start I needed. But to go back to where is started, it’s been hard to write lately, so even though I started writing Brittany a letter several times, I couldn’t ever get through the first few lines. And even though I have tried writing Brian a letter, and have a lot on paper, I can’t seem to get it right. And even though, I haven’t even started the painful process of writing a letter to my mother, letting her know how I feel, because that might literally end me at this point (not using literally figuratively), it’s still on my to-do list. But to recap: I don’t have the time, I don’t have the creative space in my brain, and too much is going on – that’s why I haven’t been writing.

I shouldn’t say, I haven’t been writing. I have been. I have written a lot in notebooks. I have a lot of shit typed into my phone’s Notes app. I have thousands of words of shit right here on this laptop. Because I never truly STOP writing. I’m always writing. Every single day I write something, whether it’s on my phone, laptop, notebook. Here is where I struggle lately: Among the reasons I just listed, I have been having a hard time writing/publishing my writing because I can’t seem to write something without feeling like I’m just complaining. Everything that’s been going on and everything I am feeling lately, I feel like the victim and everyone else looks like a villain, and that comes out in my writing. Much of my writing has been about how other people have been shitty to me; but it’s also how that made me feel, the shitty things I’ve done, and about how I’ve worked through that. I don’t feel any of that with the shit I’ve been going through as of late. At least not when I write it and read it back to myself. When I read it back to myself, it sounds like I’m complaining. A LOT. And for some readers, that’s what this whole blog might sound like to them. But to me, and avid readers, it’s not. It’s about how I’ve dealt with shit, worked through or am trying to work through some shit, and most importantly how this is all a part of the greater human experience. Much to the chagrin of my parents, my writing has never been about putting other people on blast. It’s really not. I don’t write shit with the sole purpose of embarrassing people. But I do not let the fact that a story might embarrass someone I love prevent me from telling that story. That’s not reason alone. And where I’m at right now, with my life and my writing, it’s just not enough. I don’t have a point of view. I don’t have a message. I don’t have much to say other than bash the people that have hurt me, even if that literally means just recapping events from my perspective. It’s not enough. So I’ve been withholding my writing. Until today, when I saw my Instagram traffic data and realized that my profile views have gone down a lot lately (because I haven’t been posting anything new on the blog or Instagram) and I felt inspired to explain why I haven’t been posting much the last six months, especially the last three.

Yes, I want to tell you more about how I am adjusting to Denver. How my call to my dad on his birthday in march went. And how his call on my 30th birthday went. About how I feel about my mother and I’s relationship. How frustrated I get with my Instagram growth. How I annoyed I am that for every 10 followers I get, I lose 7. How jealous I am of people who get 270 likes on a post, when I rarely get past 40. How anxious I feel about my finances and next steps and what my goals are now. And how every day I have at least one moment of screaming inside my head, “WTF DID YOU GET YOURSELF INTO GIRLFRIEND!!!! YOU FUCKED UP BIG TIME!” YES, I want to tell you all of that. But I can’t figure out how to tell you all of that without sounding like I’m complaining, or gossiping, or just throwing people that have hurt me under the bus. That’s not my goal here. Ultimately, this isn’t a diary, it’s a blog. My only goal for this platform, which I’ve said for the last year, is to let you know you’re not alone. I’m glad I could share this, while maybe it’s not exactly how I pictured it, it’s what I needed, and I hope to god at least one of you needed it to.

 You are loved,

Stephanie