Allow me to share this with you

I've been afraid I might be disappearing. So, here I am.

Hey there! It’s me, Steph Gilman. You may know me as that girl who got married and then got breast cancer, or that mom who lost her mind after giving birth. Or maybe you know me as the random person you sometimes chat with on Twitter, or that girl you kind of remember from high school. Or maybe you don’t know me at all, in which case, hello! Thanks for stopping by.

So what the heck is this newsletter and what’s the plan here?

Thank You for Sharing is a newsletter written by me, delivered straight to your inbox, assuming that you subscribe. If you've read my writing before, you probably know what to expect: real, vulnerable, honest takes on what I'm feeling/thinking/observing. It’s a bit of an experiment. And it came about for a few reasons:

My doctor recently asked me if I’m doing anything for myself. Anything that brings me joy, that’s just for me. It didn’t take me long to answer: nope. Like most moms, I have a laundry list of things that occupy my time and energy (including actual laundry. Seriously, WHY IS THERE SO MUCH LAUNDRY?!) and a multitude of excuses for not practicing self-care. I’m running on empty, and I need something to recharge my batteries.

I’ve been writing in my head. A lot. This is something that sometimes happens to me, and I imagine it happens to other writers and creative types as well. Rather than just thinking thoughts, like a normal human does, I begin writing full essays in my head while I’m busy doing other things–taking a shower, eating lunch, driving to pick up my kids. It’s like my brain is screaming at me, begging me to write. And however hard I may try to ignore the steady stream of consciousness bombarding me, it eventually gets really loud in there, and I need a space to unload those thoughts and stories.

During our last meeting, my therapist brainstormed several ideas that could help get me through my recent depressive episode–meeting up with friends, exercising, light therapy, mediation–all the stuff we know is good for us, but find excuses to avoid, particularly when in a gloomy state of mind. She then brought up journaling, and I told her how therapeutic and rewarding writing is for me, particularly when I share it with others.

“There's something here,” she said. “Every suggestion I've given you hasn't been received with much enthusiasm, until we started talking about writing. I can see it in your face. You lit up. You need to do more of that.”

I frequently (foolishly) ignore her advice, but this seemed easier than the other options, like spending less time doomscrolling on social media.

After my recent essay went up on The Washington Post’s The Lily, I was overwhelmed with positive comments and messages. “Thank you for sharing!” people kept repeating. I was surprised by everyone's delight and insistence that I write more, which is my typical reaction whenever I share something I’ve written. “Why would anyone care about this?” I thought. “I'm just a random person, saying how I feel. Does anyone actually want to read that?”

It turns out people did, and do. And they want me to keep sharing, so that's what my aim is with this new project–a newsletter where I share the things begging to be unleashed from my brain, the things keeping my up at night, the things that I simply think about that you might be thinking about too.

I've been afraid I might be disappearing, underneath the piles of laundry, in between the endless to-do lists, and amidst the many challenges of living through these weird, complicated times. So, here I am. Doing something for myself and hopefully something for you too.

Thank you for sharing your time with me–I know how precious and scarce it is. I hope you’ll stick around to see what happens next.

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Stray thoughts

• This really spoke to me: “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”― Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

• And this:

  Fruits of Motherhood @lindafruits

  People who don’t have to dig through their clean laundry piles to get dressed everyday, how does it feel to have your life together?

• Sharing is a two-way street! Please reply to this email, or leave a comment on the post. Click that little heart button too. It makes me happy to know someone besides my mother is reading this.