Aftershocks
Most people reading this know that in March, at 34 years old, I had a stroke. On social media, most of our friends’ life events, whether happy or sad or scary or joyous, exist in a vacuum. We read about them. We comment on them. And then we mostly forget them. But of course social media is not real life and nothing happens in a vacuum. And when it comes to trauma, nothing gets tied…
Perfection, rejection and self doubt.
Hi, there. I’m a perfectionist. This poses problems in many areas of life, but most obviously right now is my new career choice. Freelance writing is not a place for perfectionists. It’s a business full of rejection and, for much of my life, rejection has been akin to failure. So I knew taking this path would challenge my ability to be, well, nice to myself in the face of anything short of success. My first…
A return to words
I remember this day so clearly. I was so pregnant (see my belly sticking out from behind that jersey?). It was so hot out — the end of July in Minnesota. And it was the last day I covered a baseball game, something I had been doing for five years. I remember asking my last questions, transcribing my last quotes, saying goodbyes, writing my last game story and calling the copy desk one last time…
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- Aftershocks: The Fallout of a Stroke at 34 Years Old
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