**This is the piece I wrote for and read aloud in The Listen To Your Mother Show : Kansas City last Saturday night. Many people who weren’t able to attend have been asking to read the essays, so here’s mine. You can also hop over to the LTYM : KC blog here for a re-cap including links to other cast members’ FABULOUS essays.**

*****

My mom’s mom, my Grandma Betty, was bipolar and incapable of being physically or emotionally there for her two daughters. She was in and out of the hospital, on and off the Lithium required to treat the manic depression that consumed her. She was arrested several times; once for stealing rakes from a gardening store, again for sneaking off with some items from Marshall Field’s, and finally for “dancing lewdly in a bar.” After some warnings from the police threatening to lock her up, she stabilized somewhat and took her meds faithfully. My mom’s father was an asshat who rarely had anything nice to say to or about her and she already lacked a stable maternal role model. I tell you all of this so you understand that my mom didn’t have a great example of how to be a mother, nor did she have the support that she needed. But she was still always there for me.

Me on Grandma Betty’s lap and my mom on the right, circa 1977

Before my first Homecoming Dance in 1991, Mom took me to Pearl’s Place, a small shop close to our house in New Orleans. It was THE place to go for dresses of all kinds–Mardi Gras balls, prom, formals, even wedding gowns and bridesmaids’ dresses. It turned out to be our one and only stop. From of all the fluffy, frou-frou, pastel, poofy-sleeved ridiculous things on the racks, she helped me choose a basic black number with black and white polka dot edging along the top of the bodice. Knee length, strapless, flattering; but not revealing. Not that I had anything to reveal, mind you. I was 15.

The week beforehand we started preparing. We bought two pairs of black pantyhose in case I got a run in the first pair. We bought my first black pumps. We bought my first strapless bra.

It was to be a week of firsts.

During those days, I noticed something wasn’t right with Mom, that she seemed off. She stayed in her room a lot and I swore I heard muffled crying. When I asked Dad about her, he didn’t say much as he put his hands on my shoulders, steering me away from the closed master bedroom door. I was sad for her, but guiltily felt giddy about my upcoming weekend.

That Saturday, the day of the dance, she trimmed, filed, and painted my nails a pretty mauve color, the little Loreal bottle as familiar to me as the smell of her Diva perfume, which she still can’t live without, but uses sparingly. She was quiet, but asked me lots of questions about the dance: where we were going to dinner first, who was going with us, was I nervous, etc. Then I took a shower, convinced this would be the best night of my life.

The skies darkened and I got nervous. I focused on curling my hair under on the ends and putting on some of Mom’s makeup. I didn’t have to open the second pack of pantyhose. We took photos. I practiced the box step with my dad, which proved to be useless at the dance. Looking back on the photos now, I look happy, but my parents look….odd. Or maybe that’s just because I know now. Dad looked stand-offish and Mom looked fake-happy. Dad kept busy snapping photos while Mom helped me get deodorant off of my dress, secure my strapless, barely A-cup bra on its tightest setting, and add blush to my pale cheeks.

I went to the dance and felt awkward. My date was just a friend I’d had a crush on. There was no goodnight kiss, but at least he slow danced with me. During the fast dances I hid in a corner trying to fade into the ugly country club wallpaper. I watched the upperclassmen having a fabulous time and envied them. I thought about Mom at home and wondered if she was okay. I wanted to take off my pantyhose. It was hot and itchy and suddenly I felt all closed in and the room seemed too small. We left soon after.

The next morning we had a family meeting.

On that cold Sunday, Mom taught me that life goes on even after your life partner walks away soon after your 20th wedding anniversary. She taught me that boxed wine and cigarettes are okay some days. especially after your husband comes out of the closet. She taught me that even moms cry when things get bad. Eventually she showed me that parents have to start dating. Although I didn’t like it, I still had to be nice. Which I wasn’t. But her patience never wavered.

Mom knew Dad was gay for that week before Homecoming, the week before he told us kids. She insisted they keep that secret for ME so they didn’t spoil my big night. That week was a nearly flawless performance, her pretending nothing was wrong when inside she was dissolving.

My mom continued to welcome Dad into our house for family dinners for OUR sake. We spent holidays and birthdays together at her insistence for OUR sake. She always put us first. She put herself after the man who left her after 20 years of marriage even though he’d known he was gay since he was 12.

My mother is maturity.

She is intelligence.

She is perseverance and strength.

My mother is grace.

She finds her way and helps me find mine. She’s a warrior, finally fighting for herself, after all these years and all she’s been through. She waited until we were all on our own before stepping aside and taking the necessary space to breathe, fight, grieve, and face everything she’d set aside for so long.

She lost her husband, her lifelong partner, while he found his freedom and his voice to become an activist. She had to watch it all. It was in her face, all of our faces. but still she stood strong. unwavering, careful to set an example for us and allow us to form our own opinions of our dad and what he was doing. She did not project; she held back, and she did it for us.

She lost her footing, the ground ripped open underneath her. She hung on and she waited after losing her husband. Sure, my dad was generous and continued to care for us all financially, but she desperately wanted independence.

And now she has it. Now she is comfortable in her feelings, allowing her anger to rise up and recede, letting the emotions roll over her in waves. and this is exactly how it should be.

She always put herself last. She still does.

Now? Being a mother myself, I understand that this is what mothers do.

Show photos via Karen Ledford Photography 

I first met Lisa in 2010 at Sarah Robinsons’s Creating Irresistible Presence Conference in Atlanta. We’ve stayed in touch ever since and I’ve watched her grow and inspire others in so many ways.

Lisa asked me to share my crowdfunding experiences for her series, and since I’m fresh off The Gay Dad Project Indiegogo campaign, I felt I had some worthy ideas to contribute about using platforms such as Kickstarter or Indiegogo to raise money to make your dreams come true.

photo credit

Please visit Lisa’s blog and watch me blink my eyes too much. You can also see my dog licking himself in the background, and if you have good ears? You’ll hear my twins fighting in the living room down the hall.  Enjoy!

I wrote it in the heat of the moment, when the straw broke this camel’s back. It was a culmination of things: the stress of Listen To Your Mother : Kansas City, family issues, depression, and failing to communicate in a proper manner.

What I did was a prime example of how not to blog. I let you down and I let myself down. I hurt people, and I am sorry.

With the help of an excellent therapist and some new medication, I’m turning things around. I’m a firm believer in talking about problems and learning how to deal with them. Last week I learned that my blog is not the place to discuss certain private matters.

Moving forward, you can expect me to continue to share my vulnerable self with you; that will never change. However, I’ll refrain from exposing anyone else. I need to instead confront problems head on, at the source. So that’s coming, but it won’t be broadcast here in gory detail.

In other news, a bigger post is on the way, but I wanted to assure you that I am back. Listen To Your Mother was a huge success in Kansas City, especially for it being the inaugural show here. I, along with 13 other phenomenal women, took the stage and shared our stories with the audience. We made them laugh, we made them cry, and my mother was there in the audience—front row! It was an honor to represent Ann Imig and I hope we’ll be able to bring LTYM back in 2014.

photos courtesy of Karen Ledford Photography

It’s the toughest job in the world, but also the most rewarding. My three daughters are all medical miracles and I don’t know what I’d do without them. The days they were born are among the happiest of my life, and they’re growing up so fast I can’t believe it.

I don’t have any mothering advice to give you. I’m still learning as I go. And if you have kids of your own, you know what I mean! Motherhood never stops. Wisdom never stops.

Abby, Izzy, and Piper—I love you. I celebrate you every day, not just on Mother’s Day.

And with that, I give you Nicole:

Sisters From Another Mister

and 20 awesome bloggers making a difference May 8th through May 18th.

FUNDRAISING ON BEHALF OF GLOBAL MOMS

Sisters From Another Mister, proud Champion for shot@life and the UN Foundation

Each blogger has linked a post about motherhood with Sisters From Another Mister to raise awareness for the importance of global vaccinations and called on her readers, fans, friends and family to pledge, donate and help make a difference. Consider writing a post, donating, and sharing the link up between May 8th and May 18th. You can leave as many comments as you like on the main page with a minimum $1 donation for each comment. Both linkers and commenters will be in the running for the giveaways that have generously been donated. Comments are closed on the individual pages, but links to the 20 bloggers and the donation page will be found on the MAIN PAGE.

The rules are simple:

1. $10 dollar minimum to link your post;

2. $1 for each comment, and you may come back and comment as many times as you like!

3. Donations are tax deductible.

4. The donation page is right here if you would like to read it now.

5. Giveaways will be for both linkers and commenters and chosen by a generated program.

Link up and comment on the MAIN PAGE only!

Make your donations for links and comments right there–you are helping to save lives!

Donation page – Team ImmUNITY Nicole and Sisters From Another Mister for shot@life

Every twenty seconds a child dies of a preventable disease.

Twenty dollars can save a life.

Twenty bloggers are making a difference.

Sisters From Another Mister is proud to present Twenty Bloggers for shot@life and the UN Foundation

Nicole of Sisters From Another Mister,
together with shot@life and the United Nations Foundation,
are very happy to announce a link up to share our stories about motherhood; a Mother’s Day meme link up opening on May 8th and running until the 18th!

We invite you to join us on this journey.
And just who are we and what is this quest?

With a mantra of
Every twenty seconds a child dies of a preventable disease.
Only twenty dollars saves the life of a child,
Twenty bloggers are making a difference!

It gives me great pleasure to introduce you to these amazing women,
each one looking to make a difference in the world.

Twenty bloggers were invited to be a part of this link up

&  I am ONE of them!

Here we are:

In spite of their very busy lives, they have all pledged to make a difference.
Not only donating to the fundraising for this campaign,
but also donating their time and blogging resources.
I hope that you find it in your heart to do the same!

Our words will raise awareness for global vaccinations and raise money
for those who do not have the means to help themselves …
because every child deserves a shot@life

On May 8th, the link up will be live on Sisters From Another Mister.
Each photo on the grid will take you to the post on the blogger’s own blog home.
Linkers and commenters will have a chance to win one of several giveaways.

Set aside some BIG chunks of time over those ten days – they are a fab group of writers.
You will want to share them all!

Supported by shot@life and the UN Foundation

I am co-directing and producing (and speaking in!) the Listen To Your Mother : Kansas City Show on Saturday, May 11, 2013 at Unity Temple on The Plaza and I’m giving away TWO tickets to the show! If you can’t wait and want to buy yours now for just $12 each, please do so.

Remember that 10 % of ticket proceeds will benefit the Rose Brooks Center! Come celebrate Mother’s Day Eve with us at Unity Temple on the Plaza and bring your friends. I promise we will not disappoint you– if you miss Listen To Your Mother Kansas City, you’ll be kicking yourself.

Not sure what it’s all about? Watch Listen To Your Mother’s Founder, Ann Imig, explain it all here in this short video clip:

WIN TWO FREE TICKETS to Listen To Your Mother Kansas City ! For an entry leave me a comment with something your mother told you when you were growing up. Want an extra entry? Share this on your Facebook (you will have to tag me so I can see it!) page. For an easy share, look for my own Facebook post about this giveaway on my wall. If you want the entry to count, you can’t just share the link, you have to “say something” about it, too!

See you on May 11th!

 **Giveaway ends on Saturday, May 4, 2013 at midnight CST.**

I’ve written a letter there. So if you want to read it, go visit her blog, Letters For Lucas. 

You can find Tonya on Twitter here.

You can find her on Facebook here.

And she’s on Pinterest here.

image credit

See Jane.

See Jane at her computer last week.

See Jane get fired up and change her avatar to this to support marriage equality:

See Jane post some things on Facebook, including this.

photo credit

See Dick change his avatar to this and use it to leave a comment on Jane’s Facebook page:

DON’T BE A DICK.

Or, if you insist upon being a dick, don’t bring it onto my Facebook page. I respect your right to your views, but I expect the same in return. You know me: I’m Erin/Jane. I have a gay dad. I am a straight ally. I am co-founder of The Gay Dad Project. So if you don’t like what you see on my page? Stay off of it and out of my way.

From a very young age, even though I then lacked the spiritual understanding to articulate it, I knew that my creative soul was that of a writer. I revelled in the joy of creating worlds with words and filling them with characters of my own creation.

In my writing, I explored issues that I sought to understand although they were outside my personal experience.

My ideas and creative urges found expression through my involvement with online forums a little later on. At the age of 13, I joined a discussion forum dedicated to George Harrison, my favourite Beatle.

A few months after I joined the Harrison forum, there was a virtual birthday party for George where many fans came together online to share memories and favourite tracks. It was that evening I ‘met’ the person who gives my writing purpose to this day. Her name was Chris Thomas (or Chris Harrison on the board) and we bonded over something silly and simple that brings a smile to my face even as I write this.

During the ‘party,’ one of the forum moderators offered some virtual banoffee pie. Chris asked what banoffee was, and although I wasn’t sure, I offered my best guess:
‘Banana and toffee, I think.’

Over the next few months, Chris and I became very close, talking on a nightly basis via MSN Messenger. I soon became aware through some of her postings on the forum that she was undergoing treatment for cancer, and I hoped that our conversations might give her something else to focus on.

We continued to talk, and she shared pictures of herself and her family. Our shared love of ‘George’ and his music ensured we had a constant topic to return to. I also shared some of the creative pieces I’d been working on at the time (fan fiction and poetry mainly). It would take another year for the more serious side of my writing to develop.

Chris sought to shield me from much of the detail of her illness, so that I only became aware of crises through others who were kind enough to keep me informed through the private message function of the forum. Much as I enjoyed our conversations, not knowing was difficult, knowing sometimes worse.

In the space between, I began to keep journals. It was a case of: ‘You write you sleep. You don’t write you don’t sleep.’ To a certain extent, this remains the same.

I filled pages of diaries with my thoughts and fears for Chris, and the situation. My journaling intensified during Easter Week 2007, when it became clear on Tuesday, 3rd April, that Chris did not have much time.

Today, my defining memory of that evening is the way my hands shook from the shock, as I tried to hold a cup of tea.

Six days later, the news the board community had dreaded was posted. Chris passed away on Easter Sunday, April 8th, 2007.

The loss was devastating. I took some time to ‘recover,’ if that is ever possible, whilst seeking support for grieving the loss of somebody only known online. I found many blogs which dealt with grief and loss, but none were specifically intended for the loss of an online friend.

In November 2010, I began my own blog to fill the space. Navigating Cyberloss began as a space where I could share my own story and record my thoughts and feelings. It was much like a more public version of those many diaries, which didn’t gloss over the reality of my grief. In January 2011, my friend Kim died from complications associated with an eating disorder. I blogged about it a few days after the event, and a reader in Scotland commented to offer his condolences, and share his experience of knowing and losing a young Canadian woman and friend.

Since then, the blog has continued to grow from strength to strength. It reached 10,000 views last August, and 11,000 within eight weeks of the previous milestone. It is my hope that what I have come to term ‘cyberloss’ will eventually be recognised alongside other bereavements, so that those who have experienced it do not feel so alone.

In Casey’s words:

Casey B. is a blogger and English student living in the UK. She found her writing voice after she suffered a significant but unorthodox bereavement in 2007. You can connect with her via her blog Navigating Cyberloss or on Facebook or Twitter.

Many of you know I’m co-directing and producing the Listen To Your Mother Show : Kansas City, taking place on Saturday, May 11, 2013 at Unity Temple on the Plaza. But you may also be wondering, wtf is this really all about, anyway? This short clip features LTYM’s founder, Ann Imig, telling people exactly that.

I hope you’ll watch the video and listen to her say, “Everyone has a story. You will walk away forever changed.”

Because you will. Listen To Your Mother Gives Mother’s Day a Microphone.

If after watching this you still have questions, leave them in the comments or call me. Please check out the link above to buy tickets ($12 is a TOTAL STEAL, people!) and see our incredible cast lineup. We continue to seek out local sponsors, so if you’re interested, we’d love to plaster your logo all over our blog, programs, and postcards!

Still can’t figure out how to buy tickets? Have no fear, click here: http://ltymkc.eventbrite.com

Please come, listen to all of us read and share our stories. TELL YOUR FRIENDS, bring your friends, bring your moms, husbands, dads, grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, in-laws. Let’s fill Unity Temple to the brim so we can say Kansas City’s inaugural show SOLD OUT!

I promise this will be the best $12 you’ve ever spent.

DO. NOT. MISS.