Guess what, guys? I have another story going live in Longreads tomorrow. I am so proud and honored to have my second work published by this amazing online journal. That said, to have this particular piece of work OUT there in the world, on the internet, where anyone–including my psychotherapy clients, including my kids–can read it, fills me with something between jitters and trepidation.
See, this one is not just a personal essay—it is a really, really, super-duper personal story—that I began in a workshop, inspired by a prompt, with no intention of publishing. Then, editor extraordinaire, Sari Botton, asked to publish it and I said “yes.”
It is the kind of story I read online all the time, admiring the writer’s courage and boldness to say something so private that so many of us can relate to. The difference is that I am a therapist, guardian of my clients’ deepest secrets. Yet here I am, sharing one of my own, hoping readers can connect, even if my experience is alien to them.
This is a story about my body; the story of a journey—actually, a few stories within a story that I am proud to share. Mothers and therapists are also human beings, with human flaws and human solutions.
My clients and kids may not want to read this. Then again, they might. That’s up to them. Either way, I share this personal tale with love, humor and humility.
Stay tuned 
