10 Reasons I’m Thankful for Other People’s Stories

I’m thankful for other people’s stories. Last night, I had the opportunity to participate in the Listen To Your Mother DC Show rehearsal.

Honestly, I wasn’t feeling all that great when I left for it. I was tired, having dealt with my son’s waking up at 1:30am and standing over me whispering “Mommy?” after I’d been asleep for a whopping 20 minutes.

As always, it began with me taking 15 minutes to close his bedroom door, so that he’d not realize he was the only one asleep:

When all of a sudden, it was all like ME TIME!!!

Whoot! Time for some me time!

I typed and I typed, and I decided to go to sleep.

At 1:10 am.

At 1:32 am, this happened:

As in, “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?”

Anyway, we went back to his bed, and I fell asleep, only to awake three hours later, realize where I was, and not be able to fall back to sleep.

In addition to being tired, I worried about the fact that my husband was going to have to put our son Tucker to bed, by himself – and for those of you who know anything about Tucker, special needs, or autism, you know that routine is huge – and that, for obvious reasons, I was worried about both of them. I was worried about my husband enduring the heartbreak of hearing “but now it’s Mommy’s turn,” and I was worried about my son wondering why I wasn’t here for him.

They did fine, though, and I’m thankful for that. I’d also have been fine with coming home to find them both awake, bright-eyed, or bleary-eyed, waiting for me.

Last night, I was listening to amazing stories.

For those of you unfamiliar with The Listen To Your Mother Show, it’s basically a live show, run in 37 cities across the US, designed to honor Mother’s Day. Each person reads something original, for about five minutes, highlighting motherhood. Each story does not need to be written by a mother, nor a woman.  It just needs to be about motherhood.

To be honest, I had no idea how powerful rehearsal was going to be. Listening to 13 other women share funny, heartbreaking, honest, and incredibly real stories, out loud, was refreshing, confirming, and nothing less than awe-inspiring. You can purchase your tickets here.

I read a lot of blogs. I read a lot of books. I consider myself to be full of empathy, compassion, understanding, and acceptance. And, mostly, I am those things.

Still, sitting around a table in a too-lit, over-crowded room, full of mostly strangers and mostly new friends, listening to them be powerful, vulnerable, and brave, was nothing short of incredible.

It made me realize that this week, I have 10 reasons that I’m thankful for other people’s stories. Not just the Listen To Your Mother Stories, but all of the stories. Your stories, mine, and those that remain unheard.

1. Community. Motherhood, especially when new, can be incredibly lonely. It is, I think, the biggest thing that a person goes through. Every sequential thing that we go through is filtered, due to the fact that we’re moms.
2. Heartbreak. Hard to share out loud, and yet, shared. Universally. In all the many different ways.
3. The different ways.
4. Laughter. I laughed my ass off at some of these stories. They’re that funny. And cried. Oh I cried, too.
5. I’m not the only person who likes to say “fuck.” Enough said, there.
6. Special needs.
7. It’s the telling of the stories that makes them have light. It’s the telling them in person that gives them power.
8. The untold stories. One woman shared something about her past that made me realize, again, how many of us don’t share things with our “In Real Life” people. Because we can’t, don’t want to, or haven’t felt the opening to do so. With that in mind:
9. Writing. The fact that it felt like all of us shared personal stories through writing, but somehow came to the realization that “hey! I’ll bet I could read this. In public, even!” is scary, and affirming.  Possibly fucking crazy. But worth it.
10. Worth it. I can’t tell you how energizing it was to be in this room with a bunch of women whose names I did not know a month ago, and who have now, through their stories, become cherished by me.

All of us have stories. You do, I do, and our children will. Our great great grandparents did, and yet here we are, with the power of online connections and shows like Listen to Your Mother. Everybody has a story. It’s important to tell yours. Out loud, or silently, in a journal. They matter.  As do we.

I’m thankful for Listen to Your Mother. For other people’s stories. 

Your hosts: A Fly on our (Chicken Coop) Wall, Amycake and the Dude, Considerings, Finding Ninee, Getting Literal, I Want Backsies, Mother of Imperfection, Rewritten, Thankful Me, The Wakefield Doctrine