I’ve made some good strides in my attempts to cut my iPhone time in half, but from the way I brag about my new habits, you’d think an awards reception was in order.

Unfortunately, my progress has stalled since implementing some helpful measures last month. I have not backtracked on the changes I made. What’s happened is something I like to call The Spanx Effect.

I hope you’ll join me at The Forward to see what I mean!

Last Thursday for the first time in my life I stood on a stage as a WRITER and “performed” an essay in front of around 500 people.

And I survived!

My heart was pounding in my chest as the two fantastic cast members ahead of me went up one by one. Soon it was my turn. Without falling, I walked up the rail-less, narrow stairs in my heels, which I took as a good omen. I started my first paragraph by keeping my eyes on the page and not looking into the terrifying mass of faces in front of me. (With the lighting as it was, it really did look like a mass of something instead of individual people.)

Then, as if possessed by a deep, dark stage monster I never knew I had inside of me, I looked up towards the audience here and there. I started ad-libbing here and there. I could feel myself relax and speak more directly into the microphone. I could feel myself smiling and hitting my stride. It was frightening as hell and exhilarating at the same time. I felt like a real writer, which seems to be a statement (or a question) I often repeat both on this blog and in my head. Am I writer? I AM a writer. Am I writer? I AM a writer. It goes on and on like that. But last Thursday night, I didn’t question the title once.

One of my favorite parts of the entire night was watching each cast member perform. I held my breath through each one, willing the moment to be great for everyone. And it really was a monumental night for each of us.

But of all the aspects of this show that moved me on a personal level, I was perhaps most touched by the genuine support of my family and friends. My mom came in from Chicago for a quick trip just to see the show and many of our in-town family members cheered me on in the audience as well. As I’ve mentioned on the blog before, we live in Bryan’s hometown, not mine. That his cousins, parents, and siblings treat me as if they’ve known me all of my life is not something I take for granted. They are our family. Our cousins and so on.

I’ve mentioned before how hard it was for me to make friends when we first moved to Minneapolis 13 years ago. I wish I could go back and talk to that insecure, lonely 23-year-old version of me and show her the friends who would come to support her on May 9th, 2013. These friends who came all have young kids and are pulled in numerous directions including T-ball and soccer games in the evenings and jobs and a million things to do, but they found a way to be in the audience that night. (My mom was also incredibly touched by their show of support.) There were also members of my book club who came, as well as some of my writing friends, who really had to schlep in from over an hour away in traffic to be there. I was blown away by everybody’s generosity of time, which is perhaps the commodity that feels most precious to me so I assume it’s true for many others as well.

I want to thank Galit, Vikki, Heather, and Tracy for directing and producing Listen to Your Mother in the Twin Cities for the first time. It’s no small task to completely create a show from scratch. And of course I want to thank Listen to Your Mother’s founder, Ann Imig for envisioning a scenario in which 12-15 women would read essays about motherhood and something like 500+ people would show up in city after city (and on YouTube!) to watch and listen. (The YouTube link will be up at some point this summer, and of course I will display it loud and proud on a new blog post when it does.)

For now–a few pictures!

Right before Bryan, and my mom, and I left for the show. (He’s taking the picture!) I felt the kids were too young to sit through the whole show.

LTYM Twin Cities cast 2013, photograph courtesy of Jennifer Liv Photography

Photo at Listen to Your Mother show 2013 via Jennifer Liv Photography

That’s MY proud mother!

Me and Becky, Nov 2012

Some former friends (okay, most former ones) are best left in the past. But sometimes an old friend can haunt you. She’s the friend that got away. She’s the one that’s worth getting back.

I was invited by the fantastic HerStories Project to share a compelling story about a friendship that’s been influential in my life. I’ve never written about Becky before because I didn’t know how to fit the story of our friendship (and then our break and then our reconnection) into a tidy blog post.

I did the best I could! (With Becky’s permission, of course.) Come on over to the HerStories Project to see why I think some friendships can benefit from a break. And let me know if you have ever been able to reconcile with an old friend.

First let me share a perfect quote for my story that my friend Diann found:

“Security in a relationship lies neither in looking back to what it was in nostalgia, nor forward to what it might be in dread or anticipation, but living in the present relationship and accepting it as it is now.”
― Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Gift from the Sea