It's A Big Deal: So Glad They Told Me

Today is a big day! (Cue the triumphant and dramatic theme music and colorful confetti.) Today is the release date for HerStories Project Press's newest book, So Glad They Told Me: Women Get Real About Motherhood.

I'm super excited about this book for a couple reasons.

Number one: This book isn't just full of boring, run-of-the-mill parenting advice (I mean that stuff is already available in bulk.), this book contains 60 essays by women who are honest, raw, and real. There's just not a lot of authenticity floating around these days. Too many people wear their well-polished masks, presenting who they want the world to believe they are, but hiding their flaws and doubts and honest dreams. But this book has some of the most authentic, primal, naked-soul writing I've seen. These women are writing from the trenches of motherhood and it is simultaneously beautiful and heart-wrenching. Mostly it is honest, even when honesty isn't pretty.

Number Two: If you turn to page 251, you'll find an essay written by little ol' me. (Happy Dance!) I am both humbled and excited to be included between the covers of this magnificent book, my name stuck there in between and amongst some incredibly talented writers.

You can buy the book here. It's available in both paperback and Kindle versions. It's a great gift idea for a new or expecting mom (especially if you're looking for something original and meaningful to go along with the diapers and cute baby socks), but this book covers everything from pregnancy to empty nest. Any mom or anyone who has a mother (that's like everyone, right?) will love this one.

And because I am a tease, here is a tiny excerpt from my own essay (If you want more, you'll just have to get your hands on a copy of this book):

Stupid, isn’t it? Telling a mother not to worry? It’s like telling water to run uphill or pigs to sprout wings or mothers-in-law to mind their own business. It’s just not going to happen. Worrying is wired in our maternal DNA. And there are so many things to worry about; whether the baby is pooping a sufficient amount, whether his teeth will be jacked up from using a pacifier, how much his future therapy is going to cost from just how much I’m bungling this motherhood thing on a daily basis. 

“Don’t worry. It gets easier." 

I still grabbed on to that like a lifeline… because I was worried. I was worried that I might not make it through this motherhood gig with my sanity intact. Those assurances made me feel as if there was a light at the end of the tunnel that maybe I just couldn’t see yet. It was like they were coaxing me on from the other side, like the roaring crowd cheering on the runners at a marathon. They could see the finish line even if I couldn’t. If I just kept going, even as smelly and unshowered as I was, I would get to that wonderful promised land of “easier”. 

It was a lie.