Happy Tuesday, Friends.

We’re back with the 6th installment of The Last Four Weeks aka my own personal column on what’s been going on in my world. The truth? I really didn’t want to sit and write this update. Why? Because the last 4(ish) weeks have been rough, and I’d rather grin and bear it than admit it’s been rough, but I’m learning to let my guard down a bit and let people into my life when I’m in need of support. It’s hard, but I’m learning. We’re deep into my husband’s deployment and the kids and I have been soaking up the summer sun with long days at the beach with friends and evenings spent in the backyard, spur of the moment adventures, jumping on the trampoline and eating dinner at the picnic table. The air is thick with late summer. A pause before the next season approaches.

We have also held each other while we cried, missing daddy and mourning the loss of my friend who we lost early this month. That moment is seared into my brain. My kids finding me sitting on the floor of our garage gym, my face tear streaked, them staring at me while they asked what happened. I composed myself and held their hands, while I told them that my friend, the mom of their friends, who had been fighting cancer, passed away. That moment will stay with me forever: Sitting on the floor of the garage my workout forgotten, holding onto my kids as we rocked back and forth and cried for my friend who fought the disease with every last breath in her body, until she was called home.

“It’s like she went on a deployment, but she forgot her phone.” my 6-year-old daughter said, wiping her eyes, “But the deployment isn’t over until we get to heaven.”

I nodded, not able to say anything. Then my other 6-year-old looked at me and asked, “Do you think she’s met Grandpa yet?”

I nodded again and tried to smile, still unable to speak.

“They definitely met,” my son said smiling up at me.

“Definitely.” I sighed out, holding them all tighter.

READING:

The kids and I have started reading at lunch time. “Ready for book club?” they will ask, bringing their books to the table. It’s honestly been helping me so much to read more. Hoping it keep this trend going as long as I can.

I finally finished “God of the Woods” by Liz Moore a few weeks ago. It took me a lot longer to read it then I would like to admit, but once I properly got into the story, I was hooked. My kids were enamored by the cover and kept asking what is that pink stuff? I love the way Moore told this complex story through the eyes of so many characters and at different times throughout their lives. This read makes me want to grab more titles by Liz, and I suppose that the ideal response to finishing a book.

Now, I’m listening to Outlander by Diana Gabaldon (which I’ve never read) and reading The Cuckoo’s Calling by Robert Galbraith (aka J.K Rowling) which I read years ago but still love. It’s a fun mix of characters and stories and nice to switch from reading to audio books depending on the time I have.

LISTENING:

• Song: Run Together

• Artist: Mumford and Sons

• Album: Prizefighter

• Released: 2026

  I’ve been listening to Mumford and Sons since way back in 2011. When we lived in North Carolina has a newish married couple, my husband busy with training, and me finishing my degree, I used to run off stress and while listening to the “Babel” album. In the fall of 2023 when I sat down to scrape together the multiple versions of my memoir and actually finish the damn thing I listened to the album “Delta” every day I wrote. When I finished the manuscript, I bought the vinyl to celebrate. Last year, after my husband returned from yet another long deployment, we saw Mumford and Sons in concert to celebrate being married for 15 years. It was an incredible experience. The last four(ish) weeks have been heavy, and I’ve found myself going back to this band, these albums and songs that have carried me through some highs and lows in life. No rain. No flowers.

WEARING: Honestly? I’ve been wearing a lot of cut off shorts over my swimsuit and a big t-shirt thrown over the top. We’ve spent so much time at the beach this past month and I’m here for it. Cool inspiring outfit? Not so much, but my favorite place in the world is by the ocean with people I love, so no complaints here.

WATCHING:

I’m not proud, but Love is Blind Uk just dropped and I can’t watch anything else until that is completed. Call it trash tv (because it is) but sometimes you just to escape a little bit. Plus, their accents make it classier right?

WRITING:

Late last month, I was fortunate enough to sit in the hot seat with my writing group The Writer’s Journey by . I had given the first three chapters of my manuscript to the group and was beyond nervous to hear their feedback. And guess what? They liked it! There were lots of helpful comments about cutting certain places to increase the tension, and ideas on how to drive home the characters more, but overall, I was blown away at the positive feedback. Sometimes I am self-conscious of my choice to pursue writing, since I don’t have a degree in that area, so this felt like another step towards proving to myself that I have a seat at the table. I know imposter syndrome will continue to plague me, but maybe I’ll get used to it enough that it will just become something in the background that you forget about.

The last couple weeks I have been writing a lot slower. Grief has a way of dampening creativity in the same way that it inspires me to pursue my dreams even more. The duality of life is something that has been shown me again and again this year. The beauty through the pain.

Thanks so much for reading. I’ll be back next week with an Essay. Not sure which one it will be since I have about 16 drafts currently written on separate topics. We’ll see which one wins out. Until then, stay well and love true and happy writing.

XO,

Bekah

Quick Update:

Since I haven’t ever used it, I’ve decided to take down my pay wall for articles. Also, for the foreseeable future I will not have a paid subscription option on my Substack. If you’d like to support me as a writer, share one of my articles that spoke to you, or leave a comment and let’s chat! If you want to go a little further, I’ve set up a Buy Me A Coffee page, in which you can throw a couple bucks my way if you feel so lead;)

*This post was written by a human, not a robot and therefore may have human errors. Please excuse any mistakes as this human is learning to be a better writer, and learning takes practice. Thank you for your understanding.

So, anyway here is the story that I shared:

My sister-in-law is an athlete. While she didn’t complete in the Olympics and doesn’t currently earn her income playing sports (she’s actually a rocket scientist for NASA but that’s the subject for another essay), she has run multiple marathons, completed in three Ironman races and was part of her colligate rowing team. She also loves coaching people when asked and one of the most encouraging and humble people I know. How is this about writing? Ok, gimme a sec.

Ten years ago, when my son was just 6 months old and I was crawling out of post-partum depression and anxiety (which I’ll get into at another time), I began toying with the idea of running a marathon. I had always been a hobby runner and even ran a half marathon a few years prior but never took it too seriously. When I called my sister-in-law and pitched her the idea she, as always was encouraging and kind.

“Let me build you a training plan!” she said, excitedly. And that’s exactly what she did.

Running that marathon helped me take back so much of my power that I had lost struggling with post-partum depression and anxiety. I gained a new depth of respect for myself and felt more myself than I had in years.

I’ve often looked to physical challenges as a way to bolster my confidence or keep me busy when going through a trying time. I ran another half marathon a year after my full and last year decided to try it again. It had been 7 years (and two kids!) since I ran that kind of mileage and leading up to race day I began to have a stabbing pain in my right hip, which I totally ignored of course. I ran through the pain and blew way past my goal time. I felt totally invincible, until the next day. It hurt to walk for a solid week, and when I finally went for my first recovery run my hip was screaming in pain.

Fast forward a few months, one round of PT, and one set of x-rays and I was still unable to run without pain. I called my sister-in-law nearly crying, feeling betrayed by my body which needed so much more now than it did 7 years ago. That’s when she changed my perspective with a single thought:

“Bekah. You are an athlete.” she said, matter-of-factly.

I blinked.

“What do you mean? I am?”

“Of course you are! Athletes do not stay in peak shape all year. They rest. They eat pasta. They gain 10 pounds. Because they trust their bodies. You have to trust your body. Right now, you’re not running, you’re resting. You’re listening to your body. And soon that resting time will be over and you’ll get back at it again, but you can’t maintain that peak all year, or you will break down.”

I was shocked. First because compared to what she had accomplished I didn’t feel like an athlete, but the more I thought about it I realized she was right. That’s exactly who I was, and I needed to listen to my body and give her a break. And that’s what I did. After a time, I started working out again. While I still couldn’t run without pain, but I began practicing yoga and lifting weights and little by little began to see myself change both on the inside and the outside.

This mind-shift has been huge in the way I see myself. I am an athlete. Sometimes I am in peak shape, taking down challenges, and other times I am eating pasta and doing little more than gardening, walking the dog, and jumping on the trampoline with the kids, but I am always thinking about how to take care of my body to improve its longevity and output.

Now, how does this connect with being creative? Glad you asked.

I began writing my first novel last year. After trying and failing multiple times to begin this story (fall 2023 was my first try), I finally had a chat with myself. You’re an athlete and it’s time to run. So, after a lot of planning (Story Genuis/Save the Cat), I sat down and wrote the damn thing. From October to February, I wrote almost every day and poured out 65,000 ish words about an idea I had one day while rage cleaning back in 2020. And then I stopped. I didn’t work on the manuscript for months. I waited and let it simmer and when I finally came back to the project I realized I needed a second POV to get the story to where I had envisioned. And here I am, waking up at zero-dark-thirty to finish the new draft.

It’s the ebb and flow. The marathon and the hard-earned rest. We can’t pour out everything we have as creatives every day for all of eternity. However much the algorithm wants us to produce content every single damn day to remain relative. As creatives pursuing deep work, we simply cannot match that output. (And if you have figured out how, please link the article and explains exactly how that doesn’t lead to burn out;))

The whole point is just this: Sometimes we need to eat pasta. Sometimes we need to inhale beach reads, and journal or rewatch our favorite movies or go to the farmer’s market and arrange flowers or build Legos with our kids. As long as we are still creating every day, (and yes cooking a meal is still being creative) we are still using that muscle. Then again, sometimes it’s go time. Time to up your weight, to try something uncomfortable and stretch yourself both as a creative and as a human living your one and only life.

Trust yourself. You may be in peak mode, ready to run a marathon or draft a novel but maybe you're in rest mode. The goal is longevity, both as an athlete and a creative person.

What season are you in right now? Meet me in the comments and let’s dig deeper.

Well, that about wraps it up for this time. Thanks so much for reading! I’ll be back in two weeks with “The Last Four Weeks” (aka my personal column) and then in another two weeks for my next essay. I really appreciate you taking the time to read these words. Oh, and before I forget…

Quick Update:

Since I haven’t ever used it, I’ve decided to take down my pay wall for articles. Also, for the foreseeable future I will not have a paid subscription option on my Substack. If you’d like to support me as a writer, share one of my articles that spoke to you, or leave a comment and let’s chat! If you want to go a little further, I’ve set up a Buy Me A Coffee page, in which you can throw a couple bucks my way if you feel so lead;)

Have a great week!

-Bekah

*This post was written by a human, not a robot and therefore may have human errors. Please excuse any mistakes as this human is learning to be a better writer, and learning takes practice. Thank you for your understanding.

Happy Monday, Friends!

We’re back with the fifth installment of The Last Four Weeks aka my own personal column on what’s been going on in my world. The last month has both crawled and flown by if that’s possible. We spent several weeks on vacation visiting friends and family and then said “See You Later” to my husband for a while, and I’m just now getting into our summertime rhythm with the kids. Truthfully, our schedule the past two week has been nonexistent with bedtimes and mealtimes flying around in a whirl of late nights and easy meals. This is fun for a while, but the kids and I are all craving a little more routine (and a lot more sleep). After writing out our new bedtime and morning time routine on pretty cardstock, I pinned it up by our family calendar and told the kids to buckle up. Wish us luck!

READING:

I must admit I haven’t gotten as much reading done this last month as I would have liked. I’m hoping that will change as I picked up Liz Moore’s “God of the Woods” recently and have made my way through the first couple of chapters. From the start the story pulled me in, and the characters are quickly becoming people I want to try and figure out. Super excited to get deeper into this world. I am also listening to “The Last Thing He Told Me” by Laura Dave, which I’ve read multiple times but as it’s the spirit book for the novel I am currently writing, I like to revisit it and try and remember what pulled me into the story.

LISTENING:

• Song: Big Yellow Taxi

• Artist: Joni Mitchell

• Album: Ladies of the Canyon

• Released: 1970

  I’m pretty proud that my kids know this entire song by heart, and that Joni, not Amy, and not the Counting Crows sang it first. Currently on repeat in the car on the way to swim lessons, in the kitchen while making dinner and right now as I type this. I first started listening to Joni in high school and she’s carried me through many a beautiful and hard season in life. Thanks for being there for me, Joni.

WEARING:

I’m continuing my journey into dopamine dressing as discussed last time, which has been really fun. I also realized that sometimes I’ll have an outfit in mind that excites me, but when I go to put it on, I feel unsure because it’s maybe TOO much. Maybe people will look at me? Maybe I’ll look ridiculous? And 9/10 times before the last few months I would put away that exciting outfit and wear something a little more basic. Well friends, I’m trying really hard to ignore that voice and wear what makes me happy even if it also makes me uncomfortable at first. Because really, life is too short to suppress your creativity because you are nervous about how you are portrayed by others. Case in point, the other day I wore a satin skirt, slouchy graphic t-shirt and my favorite striped button up over the top and paired it with my favorite chunky Clark boots. Was I overdressed to go sit at a coffee shop on a weekday morning and write? In our sleepy part of the PWN: Yes, but I wore it anyway, felt great and got a fair amount of work done.

WATCHING:

On the 4th and 5th of July (because who can watch an entire movie on one night), my husband and I watched The Patriot with Mel Gibson. I hadn’t seen it in years and was reminded how well the acting and the cinematography were, although we did skip some of the more violent parts. Besides that, I haven’t really sat down to watch a film in a while. Any summer recommendations?

WRITING:

After taking several weeks off while traveling, I’m back at my desk working on my novel. I drafted the thing last fall into this past winter, set it down for a while and then realized it really needed a second POV to tell the story the way I had envisioned it in my head. So, I am currently drafting the second POV. It’s been really interesting fleshing out more of the story through another character’s voice. It’s pushing me as a writer and although it feels overwhelming at times, I’m really happy I made the choice to add another POV. Now I just gotta finish the darn thing:) Which brings me to…

MY GOAL! (which I’m sharing now with you in hopes that I stick with it like glue) Ok. The goal is to have the entire second POV drafted by early September. After which I’ll take a few weeks off and start book playing around with no. 3 (which has been growing in my head for the past 6 months) and then jump back into my current novel and get her all ready for beta readers by Christmas.

Sounds like a plan?

Alright then. Let’s do this thing.

So that about wraps it up! Thanks so much for reading. I’ll be back in two weeks with another Essay (I’ve got a couple in the works, so we’ll see who wins) and then two weeks after that with my next TLFW drop.

Until then, Happy Summer and have a great week!

XO,

Bekah

The flag is a big deal in our home. We’ve talked to our kids about what it represents, and how it needs to be respected. My son has a flag hanging up in his room above his bed. I remember when he was about 5 or 6 and was so proud to show me, he could do a handstand against the wall. I still remember his little feet kicking against the red and white stripes. I told him what a great job he did and then explained how he needed to find a different place to practice handstands.

“You can’t put your feet on the flag, buddy. It’s too special.”

Our children are being raised with a sense of patriotism, something that remains important no matter who is in office at any given time. As Americans we are more than who we elect. We are teaching our kids to love their country despite the fact that it’s not perfect, because we are tasked with taking care of her to ensure that she will continue long after we are gone.

When I look up at the flag, I don’t just see a piece of cloth, with stars and stripes. I see my husband coming home from deployment, my kids running to hug their dad who they haven’t seen in months. I see us facetiming him while he was in a war zone, exhausted having just come back under the wire, his face still smudged with greasy camouflage paint. I see my kids and their sacrifice of not having daddy home for birthdays or Christmas. I see funerals of those who didn’t come home. I see our friends and their families sitting around at a barbeque. Me and the wives chatting about summer plans and whose husband is deploying when, while our kids eat popsicles and run around like the adorable wild things they are. The guys stand, reminiscing about times past and talking about the future and what life will be like when they all “get out” one day. But it’s not just the military community.

When I look up at our flag I see my parents farm, tucked away in the woods of the Midwest. The front porch swing where my sisters and I sat with our morning cups of tea. Flower baskets dripping with color overhead. I see my in-law’s home in their sunny, valley town in California. My mother-in-law coming in with fresh Serano peppers she picked up at the fruit stand to use in her famous fresh salsa. I see my brother leaving for yet another underway with the Navy, waving goodbye to his wife and son. I see my sister teaching preschoolers in smalltown America. My sister-in-law raising her right hand and becoming a citizen after moving here from Brazil when she was a teenager. My brother-in-law teaching at the police academy after being a cop for years. I see our little home here in our small, coastal town nestled in the curving landscape carved out by the Pacific Ocean. I see Boston, Chicago, L.A. Small towns and big cities. Lemonade stands in the summertime and the jolt of the subway as it pulls you around New York City.

It’s all of us. This flag. This country. However divided some people thing we are, we are united under these colors as a country whose main goal is life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

Are we perfect? No. Absolutely, not. But honestly, nothing in life is perfect, especially not a country that houses so many unique people. We are American because we call this place home, because we believe in what she could be and we share the common hope that this is the place where we wish to live our lives.

Happy Birthday, America. My country ‘tis of thee. Sweet land of liberty.

Time to fire up the grill and play country music until the fireworks start. Have a beautiful weekend, everyone! I’ll be back soon with another update of The Last Four Weeks. Until then Happy 4th and God bless this beautiful land, I get to call home:)

-Bekah

*This post was written by a human, not a robot and therefore may have human errors. Please excuse any mistakes as this human is learning to be a better writer, and learning takes practice. Thank you for your understanding.

Happy Monday, Friends!

Here with the rare Monday recap as we spent our weekend doing renovation projects and hanging out as a family. Happy late Father’s Day btw! It’s been a while since I last wrote a recap, which is moving from every two weeks to every four weeks for sanity’s sake. So, without further ado I give you: The Last Four Weeks.

It has been a busy month. Our kids are now out of school, we celebrated our 16-year wedding anniversary, and I decided since my husband is deploying soonish, it would be the PERFECT time for us to completely renovate our kids’ bedrooms. SO SMART! You see how I try to control my world being turned upside by starting more house projects? But honestly, both my husband and I love working on our home, and the kids love helping even if that means I redo everything they touch. The house is a wreck, and we are leaving on vacation soon, but we are happy. Crazy? Oh, for sure 100% crazy, but also happy.

Last week was especially other worldly because we finally announced my memoir “I Pray for Your Legs” will be published with the incredibly cool Third Rail Press in summer 2028!!!!! This has been such a long road, (which you can read about below) and I’m still sorting through the emotions and thoughts that have arisen since we went public. Mostly “Is this real life?!?”. Bottom line, it’s a dream come true, and I’m so fired up to continue the course I’ve carved out for myself in this land of being a writer, and so grateful for Alle at Third Rail for believing in my book.

READING:

After finishing Mad Mabel I was kind of in a slump wondering what to read. I bopped around a bit, rereading Hemmingway’s “The Garden of Eden”, and relistening to “The Last Thing He Told Me”, by Laura Davis which is my spirit book for the novel I’m currently working on. But THEN I got my hands on a copy of my friend ’s new book “Somebody Worth Killing” and I’m happily devouring every page. This is my first time reading Jessica’s work, and right away I got pulled into the protagonist’s strong, voice which is both hilarious and dark. I love the fact that Nadia is a mom trying to juggle everything, just like the rest of us, except for the fact that she is an assassin. Highly recommend this fun, twisty read:)

LISTENING:

My friend and one of my beta readers for my memoir made a playlist for the manuscript a few months ago, and I’m currently obsessed with all of the songs, but especially this one. I love the idea of having a custom playlist for the book for readers to sink a little deeper into the vibe of the story. How do you feel about playlists for books?

• Song: When Will I See You Again // Artist: Shakka, Amtrac // Released: 2017

WEARING:

Summer is in full glorious bloom here in the PNW, and I have been loving wearing shorts and sundresses. My skin is very grateful for the vitamin D and a bit of color. I’ve been really taken with the whole dopamine dressing trend and have found myself reaching for color, and interesting textures more often. Lime green thrifted silk halter top over a white and blue band t shirt paired with baggy jeans? Yes. Orange floral dress with a bright blue baseball cap and chucks? Yes. Next up on the menu to add to the wardrobe is something overly pink, because life is too short to dress boring.

WATCHING:

Honestly? After nearly a week of replacing baseboards, fixing old plaster and painting bedrooms my husband and I flopped down on the couch this weekend and binged all of season 3 of DCC on Netflix. Turns out cheerleading shows pair nicely with a shaken gin and basil cocktail that my husband concocted for me one evening after I had spent nearly 8 hours taping stripes on my twin’s bedroom walls to paint. A mother’s love has no end. Recipe below:

Post Taping/Painting Lemon Basil Cocktail:

In a small mason jar muddle together 2 shots gin and 8-10 large, fresh basil leaves. Add 1 shot lemon juice, 3/4 shot simple syrup, and a couple ice cubes, screw the lid on tight and shake well. Pour over a strainer into your favorite short tumbler. Enjoy the taste of summertime in a glass.

WRITING:

Announcing my debut memoir “I Pray for Your Legs” this past week was insane. INSANE! I’ve received so many lovely and heartwarming comments from people I love and complete strangers. Each one like a little nod of approval saying, “Keep going, Bekah.” I’ve been careening between feeling confident and on top of the world, to feeling like a huge imposter. I started writing this book 8 years ago. EIGHT. That’s almost as long as I have been a parent. I’ve rewritten it more times than I can remember, changed the title approximately 7 times, sent out more queries than I could count, and now finally it’s happening.

I guess when it comes down to it, I might not think I deserve this dream to come true. Who am I? Just a girl who loved writing with dreams of being an author one day and grew up into a woman who decided to pursue that dream. It wasn’t a big cosmic event. It was day after day, year after year of putting in the time and energy into telling a story that I believed could one day help others. I truly believe that each experience we have both good and bad, both earth shattering wildly happy, to soul crushingly horrible have the power to help those around us. I have always wanted to use my experiences as a way to help others and through this memoir, this story about going through years of hell and back again, and growing as a wife, mother and woman has the power to come alongside someone walking through something similar. At least that is my hope.

I’m so excited to continue to share about this book in the next two years, and one day be able to hold it in my hands and say “That. That is something I made.” and then turn around and place it in someone’s hands and look them in the eye and say, I hope you find a bit of yourself in here.

What a wild, crazy life we live.

So, my friends, that’s it for today. Thanks so much for reading. Thank you for your support. I am truly grateful. I’ll be back in a few weeks with another Essay and then two weeks after that with my next The Last Four Weeks drop.

Time for another cup of tea and more painting:)

Have a beautiful week!

XO,

Bekah

“Are you going to get more?” I asked, excited about adding his music to our own record collection.

“Ahhhhhh. I’m not sure.” he said, “I could either have people order them from the website and it would take a month to deliver, or I could order a bunch and sell them at shows.”

“Sell them at shows!” I said quickly, leaning forward “We went out of state for a concert last year and came home with merch they were only selling on tour. It was great! Make people miss out!”

Make people miss out? Are you really giving that advice? Yes. In an age where you can order same day delivery, swipe left to find someone to be intimate with, and pull up literally any video at any time showing everything from the far side of the moon, people being murdered in broad day light, and pandas sneezing, I think we could all use a dose of missing out. Not only is research telling us that heavy phone use causes negative neurological behavior, isn’t all of this becoming a little dull? Aren’t we all kind of craving something different? I don’t think we’re the only ones who are noticing a shift.

According to research the digital detox market could hit 19.44 billion by 2032. That’s billion with a capital B, folks. You only have to scroll on your favorite app for a few minutes before coming across an ad for Brick or Blok or Bloom coaxing us off of our phones and back into physical reality. As more research comes out on how social media affects our mental health it’s no wonder that people are leaving Instagram and Facebook in droves and flocking to sites with more long form content (hello Substack!).

When I worked in fashion I would spend hours researching trends from the runways and street style blogs I followed (remember lookbook.nu?). Trends that would be blowing up in New York or Paris would take months and months to find their way to our little corner of the Pacific Northwest. By the time they actually got here, the trend instigators would be onto something else entirely. I still remember a collection I designed that featured wide leg pants. This was 2018 and while the runways were all screaming wide leg is the future, my average customer were not as excited as I was about a pant with so much volume.

Back to our conversation over cocktails the other night. We agreed that each of us had noticed in our own ways, that people are getting offline. It feels like a growing tension, doesn’t it? When people talk about their screen habits now it’s with a twinge of embarrassment. Back when Instagram was in its heyday (personally I’d say 2017), I would go to fashion events, where everyone would happily document the shit out of every single minute. It was cool and exciting and “OMG you have your own hashtag!”. But now? Now, it feels tired and outdated. Like a trend that has been pushed so far that you literally see it everywhere you go. Oversized blazers, I’m talking to you. Getting door dash delivered and sitting alone in your room doom scrolling isn’t as cool anymore. Playing Yahtzee at your local dive by with strangers and not posting any of it on social media? That’s hot. That is what we are craving. Human connection.

And what about the deepfakes? When the conversation moved to AI my friend lamented “People keep sending me AI videos claiming they are real. I’m like ‘Guys! Those are not real bunnies jumping on that trampoline!’”

It’s not hard to imagine a world where it’s safer to take someone’s personal account as truth over digital evidence. If we can’t trust what we see on our phones will we begin to value our own personal experiences just a touch more? With deep fakes becoming so real it’s hard to tell what’s real, will real life become the Rippleys? You have to see it to believe it? And while we agreed that AI is a good tool when used correctly and has the potential to make our lives easier, the overwhelming consensus was that it will never replace what humans really want in life, which is other humans. We crave art because it is a chance for one soul to gaze into another soul. Sometimes it’s a look of horror or sadness, indignation or happiness, but it’s a look, nonetheless. A fleeting chance for us to connect as humans in a unique and profound way. All of this to say, go to the concert and buy the damn album.

What do you think? Is the zeitgeist is leaning towards gritty real life over a perfect, sponsored post? Will minimal screen time and privacy become the new social status? Personally, I’m crossing my fingers.

In the spirit of getting offline, I’m cutting this short to finish packing for a weekend getaway with my family. Please expect no social media updates.

You just had to be there:)

Xo,

Bekah

*This post was written by a human, not a robot and therefore may have human errors. Please excuse any mistakes as this human is learning to be a better writer, and learning takes practice. Thank you for your understanding.

Happy Saturday from this chill and relaxing Memorial Day Weekend.

We’re back with the third rundown of The Last Two Weeks aka my own personal column in which we chat fashion, music, books, and a quick progress update on my first novel.

In the last two weeks we welcomed home my husband (military dude) from a little work trip. The kids and I were all super excited to have him back into our lives. Even though he wasn’t gone long, it still takes all of us a few days to sink back into the rhythm of being with each other again. When it’s a longer trip (those 6-month suckers) the reintegration process takes much longer. You can read some thoughts I had on the subject when my husband came home from his last deployment here.

Ok, back to our regularly scheduled program:

READING:

This week I finished Sally Hepworth’s new novel “Mad Mabel”, and all I can say is…Wow. At one point I had to put the book down for a few days because it was a lot to process. Mabel did not have an easy life, folks. I only lasted a few days though, because I missed the story. Then came the twist. Holy moses. The twist! I think my jaw actually dropped as I read then closed the book (making sure to keep my place), looked around, said aloud, “Are you kidding me?!?” and then opened the book back up and devoured the rest of Hepworth’s masterpiece in one sitting. Huge shout out to my husband for getting the kids ready for bed that night! Thanks, babe! It’s truly a beautiful book about life and female friendship and I’m honestly, I’m already itching to read it again. Highly recommend this one if you like a thriller with deep characters, dark humor and a strong female protagonist. And who doesn’t, right?

LISTENING:

• Artist: Ani DiFranco // Album: UpUpUpUpUpUp // Song: Angry Anymore // Released: 1999

I grew up listening to Ani probably a little younger than the average Millennial thanks to my cool Gen-X older sisters. I hadn’t thought about this song in years, but it recently came bubbling out of my heart while driving alone. The windows were down; I turned the knob of the volume embarrassingly high and shouted this song out of my mini-van window into the wind until the tears streamed down my cheeks. Growth is a cool thing:)

WEARING:

I’ve been craving color this week. Maybe so I can match the flowers that are dripping into my yard. Aren’t these hues insane?! Operation Capsule Wardrobe (as previously mentioned) has slowly begun with some pieces being added after a thrift haul, and I finally got rid of some pieces that I haven’t worn in ages. I’ve also been wanting to make myself some clothing. This week I mended a bunch of things for my kids, and it felt good to sit down at my sewing machine again. The wheels are turning and I’m thinking this long weekend might be just the time to play with some fabric I have stashed away.

My younger sister (very cool innate style) was sharing her “Wrong Shoe” theory of building an outfit. Basically, adding a shoe that doesn’t “go” with the ensemble. A baggy laid back outfit paired with dainty strappy heels, or a silk dress paired with a chunky sneaker. Anyway, I loved the idea so here is me trying it out this past week. Full disclosure: I just pulled on this skirt over my shorts after playing tennis, but I think it works. Looking forward to experimenting with this this theory again.

WATCHING:

This past week we harvested a ton of mint from our garden for tea, so while I pulled leaves from stems, I decided to watch a movie. After flipping through Netflix for way too long, (I swear I want to get rid of all streaming services and just do DVDs) I decided upon “Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris”. The movie, which came out in 2022, was actually based on the novel “Mrs. ‘Arris Goes to Paris” (1958) by American author Paul Gallico.

Set in 1957, the movie follows Mrs. Harris, a war widow and house cleaner living in London. One day, while cleaning at one of her client’s homes Mrs. Harris sees a Dior gown hanging up in the closet. She all but swoons and decides to save up her money, go to Paris and buy herself one, and she does just that. The movie is fun, the clothing is gorgeous (late 1950’s Dior kind of gorgeous), and the actors did a good job. If you want to deep dive into Dior Apple TV has a series called “The New Look” that’s supposed to be really good. Anyway, Mrs. Harris was a sweet movie, but man! did it make me yearn (yes yearn!) for a time when people were not on their iPhones a. Something about watching people walk through the sunny, albeit dirty streets of Paris (apparently there was a huge sanitation strike), without smart phones in front of their faces made crave movies set in a lo tech time. Maybe I’ll set my next novel pre iPhone, but first I need to finish the first one.

Speaking of writing…

WRITING:

Ok! So, work on the novel seems little slower, just because I’ve been thinking a lot, which I know is work, but it’s harder to show progress when it’s all inside my head. I have been working on my new POV and have her Save the Cat story line outlined. I’m trying to give it room to breathe, since I know when I do sit down to write the second POV things might change. Weaving together two storylines seemed WAY too hard last fall when I sat down to write my first draft, but now that I’m here, I know this is the way the story always needed to be told. My plan is to start writing this Tuesday morning bright and early, annnnnnd I’m super nervous excited! My kids are out of school in THREE weeks, guys. THREE. Time to crank it up a notch.

This weekend we’re spending as much time together as we can. The kids requested Legos, daddy’s waffles for breakfast and a trip to the beach. Memorial Day is always a quiet kind of celebration at our house. Husband got together with some of his “guys” over the weekend and on Monday we’ll visit the memorial on base. We’ll point the names of my husband’s friends. We’ll tell our kids about them and the sacrifice they made so we can live in this free country. Then later that night my husband and I will each do a shot and pour out three in honor of the men he once knew. Always remember, never forget. DOL.

Thanks so much for reading. I’ll be back next week with another essay and then in two weeks with my next TLTW drop

Have a great weekend, everyone. Eat grilled meat, enjoy a cold one, and take a moment to look up at that blue sky and say thank you for the men and women who gave their lives so we could live ours.

XO,

Bekah

Honestly, it was probably one of the best things I could have done at the time.

Why?

Well, the month before we lost my father-in-law to a battle with cancer, and our home was covered in the fog of grief. My husband, who was very close with his dad, was wading through our new reality, and I felt helpless trying to help him. At that point I was willing to do pretty much whatever it took to help process the pain. So, when a neighbor asked me to join her in an early morning plunge, I jumped at the offer.

The idea of doing hard things isn’t a new concept. I’ve been married to a military dude for almost 16 years and together we have navigated multiple deployments and all kinds of things they bring. “Embrace the Suck” is a mantra that we have quoted to one another throughout the years, but it’s normally when we’re facing something difficult that we don’t have any control over. Last minute deployment? Embrace the suck. Government shutdown during Christmas time? Embrace the suck.

But the idea of searching out hard things to do on purpose? Are you crazy?

Maybe?

Ok, so back to walking into icy water.

Turns out walking into the ocean on a frosty fall day was just the thing I needed. After that first plunge, I came out feeling high as a kite and became mildly (read: totally and unequivocally) obsessed with cold plunging. For the better part of the next year, I went three or more times a week. It was my drug. Sometimes I’d plunge with strangers in a big group, sometimes by myself, but mostly I’d meet a friend and fellow military spouse who also had twin daughters (!!) at our local beach. We would let the girls play and eat snacks and right before it was time to leave, we’d strap them into strollers where they’d sit happily waving at us and calling us “mama mermaids”, or sit watching Bluey on the tablet, as we walked into the cold water.

Sometimes I look back at that version of myself and shake my head. Three kids under 6, a spouse who was constantly gone and you’re seeking out hard things? Geez, lady.

Honestly, I think plunging is what helped me through those years of mothering three small humans and navigating deployments. It helped train my brain that I can indeed do hard things.

But it turns out it isn’t just a feeling; there is some pretty legit science behind this notion of seeking out the hard things.

Neuroscientist and jacked podcast host Andrew Huberman explains how our brain undergoes physical changes when we do hard things. In his conversation with David Goggins during the Build Inner Strength episode, Huberman explains our anterior mid-cingulate cortex (AMCC), located deep within our frontal lobe, actually expands when we engage in behavior we do not want to do. It does NOT grow when we do hard things that we love (for me that would be running), but only when we do hard things that we hate (for me that’s waking up at 5am). Now, the crazy thing is that, according to Huberman, people with large AMCCs tend to be more fit and also live longer and have a better quality of life in old age than those with smaller AMCCs.

What’s their secret?

Doing hard things.

When we engage in hard things we are training our brain and body that we can overcome obstacles. Not only that but we are preparing ourselves so that when we are faced with hard things that we cannot control (read: last minute deployment), we already have the muscle memory of facing difficult situations because we are purposefully seeking them out. Cool, huh?

Let’s continue.

In his book “The Comfort Crisis: Embrace Discomfort to Reclaim Your Wild, Happy, Healthy Self”, author , argues that our modern-day conveniences have made us too comfortable. In his interview on the Daily Stoic, Easter discusses the difference in our choice in behaviors. Behaviors that feel good in the short term are often more harmful in the long term. Scrolling for an hour on our phone for example. While behaviors that are uncomfortable in the short term tend to be better in the long term. An example being exercising multiple times a week.

Sometimes the simple act of not reaching for your phone when you feel a twinge of boredom can actually expand your brain and help you live a longer, healthier life.

Ok. Enough about brains, what about our souls?

Erwin McManus, author and pastor at Mosaic church gave a sermon a few years ago entitled “Do Hard Things.” I’ve found myself coming back to this sermon over the years, especially during difficult times. The Bible, a text thousands of years old, doesn’t talk about our anterior mid-cingulate cortex, but in Romans 8:5-6 and 9-11, Paul talks about the flesh and the spirit mindset, which McManus calls the “easy” version of ourselves vs the “hard” version. He goes on to say that when we choose the easy thing (hatred) it actually makes for a harder life, but when we choose the hard thing (forgiveness) it actually makes for an easier life. Throughout the Bible, Jesus instructs us to do radically counter cultural actions like “turn the other cheek” (Matthew 5:39), and “forgive each other” (Ephesians 4:32), these are those hard things we have to do in life in order to grow into our fullest potential.

Because each of us are totally unique humans, our idea of what is hard is going to be different. Some people like getting up early (superheroes) so getting up early doesn’t constitute a hard thing for them. I hate waking up early (I’ve literally spent years trying to form the habit and still can’t get it), and honestly it might always be something I have to fight for. However, I love running. It’s my happy place. So, when I go out for a five-mile run, sure I’ll reap the benefits, but it won’t expand my AMCC like someone else who hates running but does it anyway.

As we choose to do hard things, adding layer upon layer of experiences into our lives, what we are really doing is setting ourselves up for success in the future. We are building an arsenal to pull from in the future when life is looking scary or bleak, and soon when some curve ball hits us with the force of, well a curve ball, we can pause and remember that we can actually do hard things.

What is one thing you can choose this week that doesn’t come easy for you? I’m going to try and wake up early every day this week. Lord, help me. Can I do it? We’ll see.

I’ll be back next Saturday with another column from “The Last Two Weeks”, until then I hope you have a great weekend, and remember embrace the suck, and don’t be afraid to do hard things.

XO,

Bekah

Happy Saturday, Friends!

Welcome to my second installment of The Last Two Weeks aka my own personal column on what’s been going on in my world. We’ve had some glorious weather here and even though it’s currently hazy, once the marine layer burns off we’ll be bathed in sunshine. We’ve been outside as much as possible enjoying the warmth and the flowers blooming in our neighborhood. Each plant doing their best to outdo the others. The kids and I have been battling a bit of a cold, made worse by late-night chats and one exciting adventure to the orthodontist at 10pm to fix a braces emergency for my 10-year-old. (Update: he’s totally fine thanks to our amazing ortho!) I feel like my intake of caffeine has been slowly increasing and am seriously thinking about investing in an espresso machine. If anyone has any recommendations, send ‘em. School is out for my kids in FIVE weeks (gulp) and while I honestly love summer days with my kids — they are my favorite people apart from my husband — I need to lock in just a touch more with this second draft of my novel before they are home all day every day asking for snacks.

So seriously, which espresso machine should I get?

READING:

After waiting and waiting I finally got my hands on Sally Hepworth’s new novel “Mad Mabel”. Eeeeek! I can’t tell you how much I’m enjoying this read (maybe the real culprit of my late nights?). I’m falling more and more in love with Mabel and her story. I’m not far enough into this book to give any real review except that by page one I was reminded of Hepworth’s talent for capturing her readers and bringing us into her world. More thoughts next time.

LISTENING:

• Artist: Nina Simone // Album: Little Girl Blue // Released: 1959

  Put on this album while making dinner as the evening light stretches through your windows and I promise your stress level will go down almost instantly. It sets the night on such a chill trajectory. Bonus: wear an apron while you cook, for the domestic goddess vibes, but also because it keeps your clothes clean (even if they are sweaty work-out clothes.)

WEARING:

Operation Capsule Wardrobe (as previously mentioned) has yet to begin, but I am planning on thrifting next week to find some new pieces. This week I’ve been gravitating towards baggy jeans and button-ups, while inwardly craving bright color and new shapes (hence the need for a wardrobe refresh).

When I used to work in fashion, I would wear a “cool” outfit to work and then change into “mom” outfit when I got home. Now that I work from home and am running around the house between writing sessions, I’m finding it hard to wear the cool outfit all day. Hiking our neighborhood hills with my dog in adorable boots doesn’t really cut it, neither does painting the bathroom trim in a trendy dress, which means I end up reverting to my uniform on the reg (as seen below). Not sure if my mindset needs to change, or I need multiple outfit changes per day.

WATCHING:

Somehow, I lived my entire 37 (almost 38) years on this planet without ever seeing Erin Brockovich. It’s always been one of those movies I’ve wanted to see but never actually watched. When I realized my husband hadn’t seen it either, we spent a few evenings watching this classic (anyone else take multiple nights to watch a movie?). Not only was I reminded how amazing 1990’s Julia Roberts was, but I also loved the cinematography, and the way the story was laid out. We didn’t realize until the end of the movie that it was based on a true story (!!), which of course sent me down a rabbit hole to the real Erin, who was in fact a total badass. And then there was the fashion, which was gritty, sexy, brightly colored and filled an empty place in my heart that I didn’t know existed. My new goal in life? Channel the kind of energy that Erin gives when her boss suggests she dresses a little more appropriately for the office.

WRITING:

The majority of the past two weeks was spent summarizing each scene in my novel onto 3x5 cards. It took me MUCH longer than I had anticipated, but I’m really glad I took my time with this step. Now that I can see my story laid out, it’s easier to locate what needs to be changed. I found two pretty large scenes to merge with another and spent entirely too much time wrestling with what POV to add. After procrastinating the decision like the good writer I am, I came up with an idea I really love and floated it by my writing group. They said I should run with it and so we’re off to the races!

At the beginning of the last two weeks, I was feeling pretty lonely about this whole writing thing. I confessed to my husband, while we sipped our evening drinks, that maybe I shouldn’t have left fashion after all.

“I’m too extroverted to be a writer!” I whined into my tea.

After talking in circles for a while, my husband nodding along and occasionally offering his insight, I realized that I need to create the writing life that I want. It’s not going to fall into my lap. And what do I want? Community.

You know when you’re looking for ladybugs and can’t find them, and then suddenly when you stop looking, they are everywhere? I feel like that happened to me. Just this past week a published an article about the writing community, and touched on loneliness as a writer in her most recent episode of the Career Novelist Podcast, both of which were so helpful, and made me feel…well, less alone.

I made the effort to show up to not one, (like I normally do) but three writing sessions with the TWJ Writing Group hosted by Robbie Westacott this past week. (I did opt out of the 5am one due to late night reading of Mad Mabel. Sorry, not sorry.) And I began thinking of the other writers in the group as my new co-workers, all of us working alongside each other to carve out the writing life that we want. I also started engaging more here on Substack, because a lot of you are well…my writing community:) Even though it’s only been a week this mental shift has made a huge change in my daily thought life. After pursuing this career on and off for so long I feel like I’m finally starting to fall into step.

Onwards and upwards!

Annnnnnd that’s it! Thanks so much for reading. I’ll be back next week with another Essay (I’ve been wanting to write about this topic for a while and can’t wait to share it with you) and then in two weeks with my next TLTW drop.

Have a great weekend, everyone and Happy Mother’s Day!

XO,

Bekah

While I’m mostly a B-list mom in terms of organization, when rubber meets the road, I have my ducks in a row. Preparing for deployment isn’t any different.

Here are my top five areas to tackle before they leave.

1. Money Talk: Have a financial date. I know, I know it doesn’t sound sexy, but honestly, I love this one. Sit down with your partner and set financial goals for the deployment. Get into the nitty gritty and figure out how much extra will be coming into the household during those months. Depending on how long the trip is, you can actually save quite a bit of money, which could be used to pay off debt or do something to celebrate their return. A trip to Hawaii? A home renovation? Having something you are working towards together helps bring you together and pass the time. Side Note: We try and budget a few special things for the kids and I to do while Big Daddy Man (as my kids call him) is away. Something big like an extra trip to see family, or little like a zoo membership. These can really help break up the time and planning them ahead reduces those emotional purchases.

   

2. Document the Everyday: Start taking extra photos and videos of your spouse before they leave. In a few months you’re going to be in the throes of missing them and believe me you’re going to look back through your phone for evidence that they really are part of your world. Since we have kids, I really prioritize taking videos of my husband with each of the kids before he deploys. When I see a cute moment, I run and grab my phone to capture it, knowing how helpful it will be for my kids to see themselves interacting with their daddy.

   

3. Important Paperwork: Update (or set up if you haven’t yet) their will and power of attorney. Make a physical list of important contacts with their numbers, (including their chain of command) and keep it somewhere handy or program them into your phone before the deployment pops-off. All this boring stuff is super important, especially if things actually go down and you need to get in touch with someone. Military OneSource has a great PDF checklist for all things paperwork.

4. Set Communication Expectations: Ask your spouse if they have an idea about what communication will be like while they are gone, then make a game plan. What methods of communication will you use? Phone? FaceTime? Signal? Email? Deciding those avenues beforehand can be helpful. Voice memos and the Marco Polo app have come in handy for us in the past. Research time zones where they are going and mentally plan that into your day. A 12-hour difference? 16 hours maybe? Doing a little work before can help with that familiar feeling of not being in control of well…anything.

5. Tell Your People: Every military spouse I have known hates asking for help. We hate it so much. BUT from my experience people that really do love you really do want to help. So, ask them! Ask your parents or in-laws if they could come visit during the deployment. Invite your out of state friends to come visit, or better yet go visit them! Tell your neighbors that your spouse will be gone for a while, and you might be asking for help from time to time. I also always let the kids’ teachers know when my husband will be gone for an extended period of time so they can better help and support my kids. By being open to your community, you give them the opportunity to help if they can. And if not? Well, deployments can be a really weird way of weeding out people who won’t be there during the hard times. There is something comforting in knowing where people stand. Life is too short to chase support that isn’t there:)

   

At the end of the day, as much as we try to prepare for the time apart from those we love, we still have to actually go through the thing. If you’re getting ready to say “see you later” or if you are currently counting down the days until your loved one returns, know that you’re not alone. When the kids are finally in bed that first night and the house is quiet and you don’t know how you’re going to survive the whole thing—remember you are never really alone. It totally sucks, and I know some days will be easier than others, so give yourself grace and take this crazy ride one day at a time.

I’ll be back next Saturday with another column from “The Last Two Weeks”, until then I hope you have a great weekend! If this was helpful to read, or if you have a topic you would love to see discussed more, leave a comment and let’s chat:)

XO,

Bekah

We’re going to jump right into something new called The Last Two Weeks, or my Personal Column as I’m calling it in my head. Cue SPJ looking out the window of her New York City apartment stating “I couldn’t help but wonder…” but you know, the Washington version.

After traveling the entire Spring Break to see friends and family, the last two weeks were spent settling back into our normal routine for our family of five. My husband is an army guy so sometimes he’s here and sometimes he’s not. Right now, we’re happily welcoming daddy home every evening for supper, something I don’t take for granted. Our kids have been loving being back at school, and the past two weeks were filled with science fairs, sports practice, playing Catan as a family and enjoying the warm weather. Spring in Washington is so wonderful after a long, rainy winter.

READING:

I ate up most recent thriller “We Would Never Tell” like a batch of gluten-free chocolate chip cookies. A multiple POV about three 20-something year olds trying to make it in Hollywood and find themselves in France at the Cannes film festival. Gossip, secrets and murder ensue. The second half of the book pulled me along just as much (or more!) than the first half, and honestly, I didn’t see the last twist coming at all. The ending was SO satisfying. Also, the detailed description of clothing throughout made this former fashion designer’s heart sing. Well done, Anne-Sophie!

LISTENING TO:

• Artist: Snow Patrol // Album: “Eyes Open”// Released: January 1st, 2006

  Because I was an angsty teenager in 2006 this music will always hold its own in my life.

• Artist: Sam Parker // Album: “As of Late”// Released: April 18th, 2026

  This new one has been on repeat this week, and not just because Sam is a friend, but his music is so good. A blend of John Mayor, Alexi Murdoc and a little Jack Johnson if he were a blues musician. Perfect for chill Spring evenings.

WEARING:

It’s finally, FINALLY warming up, and while I know it might just be Fake Spring, (the PNW is known for having multiple seasons within each season), for now I’m drinking in the sunshine. I’ve been toying with the idea of completely overhauling my wardrobe. Something about turning another year older next month makes me want to switch things up. Operation Capsule Wardrobe coming soon? Stay tuned.

This past week I wore a pretty standard version of my uniform of jeans and a top. I had fun layering a new thrifted silk button up with a tank and my favorite vintage leather jacket. Mom on the go but make it cool.

WATCHING:

My husband and I watched the session finale of Shrinking. Ugh. It was so good, guys. I always get nervous when things are going good in this show, because the writers Bill Lawrance, Jason Segel, and Brett Goldstein love to lull us into an emotional comatose before walloping us with some new crisis. The finale did not disappoint.

We’re also loving Your Friends & Neighbors . The dialog is really quick, and the plot has been fun (even though I called the last twist at the beginning of the episode), but the real winner is seeing John Hamm and Amanda Peet act together. They bring out such a good chemistry you can’t help but root for them, even though I don’t think they’ll end up together.

WRITING:

I’m getting into a good rhythm for draft TWO of my Work in Progress (which is still untitled). This week I bought a pack of 3x5 cards and am going through the process of summarizing EVERY SCENE on its own card so I could start doing some major surgery. I want to add another POV (this was how I originally saw the story years ago), so right now I’m laying the plot out to see where scenes can be moved around and who needs to tell what. I recently read somewhere (*cough saw on Instagram *cough) that the first draft of a novel is you telling yourself the story, and the second draft is making sense of the story. Let the surgery commence!

I also joined a writing group hosted by last week! They meet multiple times throughout the week, but I join in on Friday mornings my time. It’s ungodly early here (5am), but it’s been a good catalyst for me to get up ungodly early and start my day with writing. The people are lovely and I’m excited about hammering in the habit of being an early riser. Those early morning hours are going to be my main source of quiet writing time this summer once the kids are out of school.

Alright! That’s it! Thanks so much for reading. I’ll be back next week with another Article (you can check out my first one here) and then in two weeks with my next Personal Column drop. Have a great weekend, everyone:)

XO,

Bekah

“Then you’ll get out of the military and we’ll have babies?” I asked, my head in the clouds.

“Then we’ll get out and have so many babies.” He replied, smiling.

But life doesn’t always happen the way you think it will when you are 22 years old and newly married. At the end of that first contract, I was finally pregnant, my husband loved his job, and my career in fashion was going great, and well, we decided to stay in Washington and try one more contract. Just one more, and then just one more, until 15 years later and three kids, and countless deployments and here we are.

We were always going to get out of the military before we had kids or at least before they were very old. Our oldest is almost ten and the twins are somehow already six years old. And now? They are military kids. I never really think of them as “Military Kids” or even our family as “Military Family”, but we are. Since April is the month of the military child, I wanted to share some things we do in our family to help our kids thrive in this crazy lifestyle.

1. Be Intentional:

   Time is not always on our side as a military family we’ve learned to be intentional with the time that we do have. Friday nights are normally family movie night. Sunday afternoon we normally play a board game together or take an outing together. I keep this routine going when my husband is deployed too. The consistency, however hard it may be to continue alone, helps all of us feel a little normal. When my husband is home for bedtime, we work together to get kids to bed so we can have some time to talk, especially if a deployment is looming. I normally take the lead on kid things, just because I’m the constant parent in their lives, but when he is home you better believe he jumps in with both feet to help brush hair and read stories.

2. Be Honest:

   We are pretty open, as open as we deem appropriate to our kids, about my husband’s job. We have a massive map of the world in the hallway and when Daddy is gone for months at a time, we point to far off places on the map where he is waking up that morning. We tell them daddy is very good at his job and there are lots of people who need his help. They know he wants to be home, but they also know that sometimes other people need him too. We’re honest with them about how we feel, “Yes, I miss daddy too, yes this is not fun, but we can do hard things, and God will sustain us through this time.” Which leads us into the next point…

3. Validate Their Feelings:

   Growing up my dad was more or less home every night at 5pm, ready to eat dinner with his family. My kids are not living the same childhood I did. Their dad comes in and out of their lives in no particular order or routine. Sometimes he’s home for birthdays and holidays and sometimes he isn’t. Their relationship with him is strong but it’s different than their relationship with me. Whenever my husband deploys, or when he first returns everyone’s, emotions are up in the air. We try and openly talk about this with our kids. “Are you sad because dad left? Me too.” I don’t hide the fact that I miss my husband from my kids. I keep it together because I am the grown up in the situation, but sometimes if I’m having a hard day, I’ll tell them. “Hey kids, sorry I lost my temper, I think I just really miss your dad today. Do you miss daddy too? Yeah? Maybe we all do? Maybe we can hug it out a little bit?” This helps us all get on the same team, something we really try and foster in our family. It’s not “Us vs Daddy’s Job”. It’s all of us together serving our country. I try my hardest to recognize their part in that service. Sometimes it helps to talk about daddy when he is away, but honestly sometimes it’s just too painful for them, and when I pick up on that I don’t push the subject. Instead, we’ll do a trip to the zoo, movie in a fort, or meeting up with friends, something fun and a little out of the ordinary to keep their mind off of his absence.

4. Lean into your community:

   Some of our closest friends are other military families, and they understand that what life is like when one parent is gone for month. Whenever my kids have friends over who’s parent is in the military, I’m quick to highlight the fact. “Her daddy is an army guy too!”, or “His daddy is on a big work trip just like your daddy”. Watching their faces light up as they realize their friends understand the complexity of this lifestyle is priceless. It highlights that they are not alone, because even though this is hard, they won’t ever be alone in this. Attending a local church, joining the Family Readiness Group (FRG), or dropping in on workout groups like Sweat Like A Mother (SLAM) are also great ways to meet with other military spouses and foster a strong community.

5. Use Resources:

   I feel like I could write an entire article just on this subject, but for now I’ll keep it short, as there are so many resources to utilize out there. As our kids have gotten older, we have used different tools during deployments and the daily up and downs of being a military family. Here are a couple we love:

   1. Hug a Hero Doll: Each of our kids have a “daddy doll” that they sleep with while my husband is deployed, and even when he’s home. They have been a lifesaver during long deployments

   2. Books:

      1. Over There: I’ve read this board book so many times to my kids over the years, it’s literally falling apart. Highly recommend for little kids.

      2. It Takes a Family to Serve: We just got this one, but I can already tell it’s going to be read a lot this year.

   3. Care Packages: We love sending care packages during deployment. It works as a countdown of sorts (“only two care packages left to send before daddy gets home!”), and it also helps them express their feelings directly to their dad. We include letters, treats, pictures the kids have drawn at home or at school, and we often make them themed for whatever holiday is coming up next. USPS even offers a free “Military Care-Kit” to get you started.

   4. Online: These are for you to look through. Some really good ideas for helping your kids (and yourself!), while navigating military life.

      1. Military One Source: A massive site filled with resources about military life.

      2. Centerstone: Free counseling for active-duty military and their families.

      3. Operation We Are Here: Some great resources for kids and teens of military parents.

Just as April is the month of the military child, the flower of the military child is a dandelion. Not only do these flowers have amazing resilience, but also the ability to grow in diverse environments, and tenacity to thrive through adversity. Our kids didn’t choose this life, but they are doing an insanely good job living it. I hope some of these resources were helpful to you, reader. I’ll be back in two weeks with another article, next time will be a little different, and I can’t wait to share.

Take Care,

Bekah Rowe

Let me reintroduce myself. My name is Bekah…not….uh… not Helen, actually, yeah. It’s Bekah, or Rebekah if you want to go formal or Bek if you know me well, and this is my unmasking of sorts here on Substack. But first, a bit of history.

I started playing around with the idea of possibly maybe being a writer when I was 9-years-old, wayyyy back in the late 90s. I still remember clutching my notebook and walking through the rows of books at our local library, enthralled by the fact that each book came from a single idea from one person. I was hooked. I would major in journalism and minor in photography and work for National Geographic and of course write books on the side. Easy peasy right?

Fast forward to my senior year of high school, and I had decided to pursue fashion design and development in college instead. I was still an avid writer, I had a blog and everything, but I just couldn’t pull the trigger and study it in college. I remember thinking that writing felt too “special”, too “sacred” to share with others as a career. At least that’s what I told people. What I really thought? I was scared shitless I wouldn’t be successful as a writer. So, onto fashion land!

I had a great time. Turns out you can tell stories through clothing, and I did just that for the better part of 10 beautiful years. I continued writing though and used it as inspiration for collections of clothing that I designed both for other companies, and eventually my own. I actually started writing about my life in essay form, both to help cope with my husband’s multiple deployments, life as a new mom, and as inspiration for my collections. Somewhere in the back of my brain I had the idea that one day I might publish our story, and that maybe, just maybe it would help other people in my situation.

After COVID, things changed pretty drastically for small batch clothing. I pivoted and decided to close my brand and return to part-time contract work in order to stay at home with our newborn twins. I wrote, at night or nap time or when I needed an outlet. Then after my husband returned from a really hard deployment, and I lost a huge contracting gig that I was excited about, I decided to phase out designing and try my hand at writing full time. Well, as full time as you can with two toddlers at home. So, I started a website in the winter of 2023, with a little blog, and decided to call myself Helen, because frankly the idea of everyone knowing my deep thoughts was kind of terrifying. I was in high school again, afraid of messing up and even more afraid of what everyone would think of me when I did.

Slowly, I began writing more and attended a writing group on and off and focused on raising my sweet kids and enjoying family time when my husband wasn’t off working in random countries. I only had one contracting client, and sewed mostly for myself, my kids and a few close friends. I had resigned the fact that I would finally finish the memoir I had been writing for the last 5 years, and maybe one day send a query. I slowly continued my memoir, and eventually finished it, beta reader tested and everything. All that was left was to query the thing. That’s when I froze.

It was late fall 2024, and I was starting to think maybe I had chosen the wrong path. Maybe I couldn’t do this after all. Maybe I should go back to design. The MS sat in my computer collecting dust, while I researched how to write a query letter without sending a single one. Then I met thriller author Jessica Payne of who was kind enough to allow me to ask her 1000 questions about life being a writer. She was beyond lovely and gave her answers and even calmly questioned all of MY iron clad reasons that I could not have a career as a writer.

Me: But I didn’t go to school for creative writing!

Her: Neither did I!

Me: But my husband is gone a lot! And I’m a mom!

Her: I’m a mom too, and my husband is also gone a lot for work!

Me: But I don’t know anything about publishing!

Her: Yeah, but you can learn! And you’re not afraid of hard work!

I’m paraphrasing here but it was her genuine belief in my ability, despite never having read a SINGLE word I had written, that rocked me to my core. I left that first chat so excited and ready to work my butt off as a writer. And I did just that.

In 2025 I sent my first query for my memoir. I began writing my first fiction novel, an idea I had while rage cleaning in 2020 when the five of us were quarantined in our 900 square foot apartment. I joined a writing group comprised of women of all ages pursuing their goals of authorship. I started publishing Substack articles more frequently, I read books on craft (Story Genius by Lisa Cron, and Save the Cat Writes a Novel, by Jessica Brody to name a few). I started taking my dream more seriously. And the twins started Kindergarten which allowed me hours instead of minutes to work on my craft. I shook off what I thought I was supposed to be like in order to be a “real writer” and instead leaned into who I was as…Bekah: wife, military spouse, mama, avid tea drinking, runner, lover of books, and fashion, DIY queen with a secret love of tiling, and someone who lives life with an open heart in hopes that by sharing something I went through might one day help someone else. The back half of the year was filled with writing my first novel and navigating a pretty gnarly reintegration from my husband’s deployment, and not spending a ton of time on Substack or social media in general. Those six months allowed for some deep growth. The ugly root growth that no one can really see, but that is essential for the plant (me!) to thrive.

It’s 2026 now, Spring has finally come to our small town in western Washington, and I guess well… I’m not afraid of being Bekah anymore. I believe she will have a long and successful career as a writer, because I believe in her, and I’m not afraid of a little hard work.

Helen brought me along as far as I needed to go. Now it’s my turn.

So, Hi!

My name is Bekah. It’s so very nice to meet you! I’d love to have you along here on Substack as I lean into sharing more. I want this outlet to be part journal and part essay, focusing on topics relating to parenting, creativity and life in as a military spouse. As I continue to pursue this dream of mine, and share my stories of love, redemption, perseverance and grit I hope that it might strike a chord with some of you out there in this beautiful world of ours. I’ll be back in two Saturdays with my next article. Until then, Happy Saturday and thanks for reading.

XO,

-Bekah Rowe

Not a sentence, maybe just a word that is loosely connected to another word that is currently on its way out of your tired head. Your eyes flutter open, and your mind begins opening up at the semi formed sentence humming with anticipation, turning from one color to another. The promise of a new idea. But you are too tired and roll over and pass out.

The next morning between making school lunches and answering questions posed by the three small humans you are raising you don’t give a second thought to the mysterious colorful word that almost kept you up the night before. You don’t even remember the hue. You try and focus on your work and soon you’re in the pick-up line smiling at happy faces eager to come home. You make afternoon tea and snuggle and chat and break up fights and play bored games and help with homework.

It’s halfway through cooking dinner that no one will eat, that you even remember the word that dropped haphazardly into your head the night before. Or was it a sentence? But the more you try and focus on what you though the quicker it vanishes until… nothing. The fledgling idea, a multicolor butterfly, flew away in search of another home and you must be patient for the next one.

After dinner is cleaned up, prayers are said and hugs are given you climb into your own bed, exhausted and ready to sleep. Beside you lays your net, ready for the chase.

Because as it turns out, you are a butterfly catcher.

-HR

Building Mood Boards for Writers (from a Former Fashion Designer)

Before I was a writer, I was a fashion designer. And in fashion, mood boards were my secret weapon.

I can still picture myself in my studio, a thirty-something surrounded by magazine clippings, scissors, glue sticks, and fabric swatches. After hours of cutting and pinning, the wall above my desk would come alive with images, colors, and textures. A new collection always began here, the air buzzing with creative possibility.

In fashion, mood boards do more than add decoration to studio walls. They translate abstract inspiration into something tangible, something a designer and their team can point to and say: This is the goal.

From Manuscripts to Mood Boards

Years later, I found myself slumped at my laptop, staring at my manuscript that desperately needed a major overhaul. An early reader had just told me, “Your book has such a warm, summery vibe.”

It does? I thought, shocked. They had felt something in my writing I hadn’t consciously created. That was the moment I realized I needed a way to harness that invisible “vibe” and use it to guide the rewrite.

A few days later, I saw an aspiring author on social media sitting in front of a massive mood board. MOOD BOARDS. It hit me instantly. Why had I been leaving my design background out of my writing process?

When I pulled out some of my old boards, I realized many of them carried the same feeling as my book: the push and pull of hard and soft, the warmth of oranges against the coolness of blues. It was as if I had been designing what I would someday write about.

So, I put on my writing playlist (I have been listening to the same album while writing my first book. More on music and writing another time), cut, pinned, and stepped back. Tears filled my eyes, and I stood in that full-circle moment.

Why Writers Need Mood Boards

Mood boards are not just “pretty collages.” They are storytelling blueprints.

How visuals help you:

• Set tone and atmosphere

• Define character aesthetics

• Keep world-building consistent

As I rewrote my manuscript, I constantly glanced at my board to check: Does this scene fit the tone? Does this tone shape the way my characters come across? My words began to follow the lead of my images. The mood board was not just art on the wall. It was my guiding light.

The Fashion Designer’s Process (Adapted for Writers)

Think of building a book like designing a collection. Here is how the process translates:

Theme & Vision

• In fashion: I once built a collection inspired by Joshua Tree National Park. Desert tones, sage and tan, bright blue, and a terracotta finale gown inspired by the fierce sunset.

• In writing: My memoir carries a gritty love story wrapped in a warm, intimate vibe. A summer read. Even though it mostly takes place in rainy Washington, the language adds heat. During the last rewrite I was even more aware of layering this feeling throughout the pages.

Color Palette

• Pull hex codes or swatches that capture your book’s mood. I used Pantone as a designer and still reference it for my writing projects.

Textures & Materials

• In fashion: fabric swatches and samples of trims.

• In writing: images of stone walls, neon-lit streets, fog over water. Any sensory detail that grounds your world. For my memoir I have tall pines representing Washington, bright California poppies for when we lived there, and rocky desertscapes of Afghanistan referencing the many times my husband deployed there.

Character Silhouettes

• In fashion: garment shapes and “looks” planned for photoshoots.

• In writing: posture, style, signature accessories.

Key Objects & Symbols

• In fashion: motifs, stitching details, logo placement.

• In writing: a watch, a letter. Small anchors that reappear to tie your story together. (In my first manuscript, tea and coffee are constantly being sipped. This small detail creates a subtle thread for the reader.)

Tools & Platforms

• Digital: Pinterest, Canva, Google search. (Confession: I live on Pinterest.)

• Physical: corkboard, printouts, fabric swatches, paint samples.

• Hybrid: collect digitally, then print the best 20–30 images for a physical board.

Step-by-Step: Making Your Mood Board

1. Gather images. Don’t overthink. Chaos is part of the fun, and the beginning of anything creative always starts in chaos. If an image sparks something, even faintly, save it. Look in magazines, library books, even your own photos. Jot down key words or your working title to add.

2. Narrow down. Sort through and keep only the most evocative 20–30. Ask: Does this help build my story?

3. Arrange by vibe. Pin everything up in messy abundance, or organize by character, setting, or chapter.

4. Add extras. Color swatches, font samples, textures.

5. Keep it visible. My mood board is on the wall directly in front of my desk. When I get stuck in a scene, a quick glance reminds me of the pulse of my story.

Staying Flexible

In fashion, collections evolve. Some turn out exactly like the original board. Others veer wildly and require endless revisions. Writing is the same.

Your mood board should be alive. Update it as you rewrite, shift tone, or discover new layers in your story. Like any art, don’t force it. Let it breathe.

Pro tip: take photos of your board before each major change. It is inspiring to look back and see your creative evolution.

Bringing It Back to the Page

My pivot from designer to writer has been happening slowly for years. Now that I’m fully here in this new career, I’m realizing just how much crossover there is between the two art forms. Mood boards are only one example of how we as creatives can bring what is in our soul into the world for others to step into. Yes, they are pretty. But they are also powerful tools.

They remind you not only of your book’s direction, but of its heartbeat.

And sometimes, when the writing (or design) gets messy, they remind you why you started in the first place. While I’m still finding my footing in this new world of writing, it is comforting to know that all of the experiences I’ve had, including my years spent in fashion, have brought me to this point.

Have you ever built a mood board for your writing project? I’d love to chat more about it in the comments. <3

—HR

The anxiety of welcoming home your military spouse after a long deployment can manifest in all sorts of ways. For me, it meant spending way too much time picking out the right outfit before finally slipping into my favorite sundress ten minutes before walking out the door.

It’s easy to get swept up in the excitement of homecoming. The fireworks. The butterflies. Watching your kids run into Dad’s arms. That first embrace. That kiss. Damn. You made it. You son of a bitch. The deployment is finally over.

You go home, eat your favorite takeout, and finally put the kids to bed as they whisper excitedly, “That was the best day ever,” and “Will you be here tomorrow too, Dad?”

Then you flop on the couch with your spouse, make out like teenagers, talk for an hour, and realize your spouse has been awake for nearly 24 hours. You fall asleep wrapped around each other, grateful you both survived.

Homecoming is over. But the reintegration phase has just begun.

According to Health.MIL, reintegration looks different for every family, but it’s important to remember it takes time and that is completely normal. After 15 years of being married while my husband serves, here are a few things that have helped us:

Respect the Process. This can look different if you have kids or not. If so, try easing your spouse into parenting again. They need to respect the reality of rejoining the family unit. Bedtimes, routines, and expectations have probably shifted over the course of the deployment. Just like he changed while he was gone, you and the kids probably did too. Ask him to take a step back and follow your lead on parenting for the first few days, maybe even weeks. This was the first homecoming where my spouse actually did this from the second he walked through the door, and it made the transition so much smoother. As we’ve eased back into life together, he’s gradually taken over a little more authority.

Go on a Fun Date. Sexy dates are great, yes. But sometimes, after six months apart, what you really need is to just hang out with each other. My husband and I recently went bowling. We are both horrible at it. But we haven’t laughed that hard in ages. I didn’t worry about wearing a sexy outfit, and he didn’t feel pressure to rock my world. We just enjoyed being friends again. If you have kids, go on a family outing or a few. Even just a walk to your local park as a family or a bike ride the first couple of days will help ease any tension that you, your spouse, and your kids might be feeling.

Leave Space for Silence. It can be a little awkward being thrown back together after months apart. Sometimes it will take more time than others to feel normal again, and that’s totally normal. You don’t have to unpack everything that happened over the last six months on night one. Take your time. One night we watched all the reels I had sent him during the deployment. Another night we looked through photos from his trip. One night I gave him updates on extended family. Another night we watched mindless TV and ate ice cream. And when we were both ready, we had hot sex. Let the connection come naturally and try not to force anything.

Relearn Your Routines. My routine shifted a lot during this deployment. I started waking up between 5:30 and 6:00 most mornings to get in an hour or so of work before the kids got up. I also started going to bed early and prioritizing sleep over shows. But once my husband got home, it turned into a free fall of staying up until 2 a.m. talking, bingeing a new series, letting the kids stay up way past their bedtime, getting a sitter to go out with friends, and sleeping in until 9 a.m. when we could. We needed this cocoon of being together as a family, but after a while, we were both ready for real life again. Eventually, I had to say, “I love you, but I’m waking up at 5:30 tomorrow.” He totally understood. Turns out he had been craving his workout routine he had built while gone. Lazy days are great. Everyone needs one now and then. But what makes them feel luxurious is having structure the rest of the week.

Be Vulnerable and Communicate. It’s okay to need your partner. During reintegration, it’s tempting to flex like you’ve got it all handled. Example: my husband is incredibly organized. As in, everything he brings home gets unpacked and put away on day one. By day two, he’s organizing the linen cabinet, the Tupperware drawer, and under the sink. I’m organized in a “functional chaos” kind of way. I know where everything is, but I definitely open certain cabinets cautiously in case something spills out, but like, in a hot way.

In the past, I took his organizing as a dig at me not doing well while he was gone and got defensive. “Hey buddy, we’ve survived six months here, and I’m doing a damn good job.” But over the years, I’ve realized we have different skills. And letting him feel useful (read: letting him help) has been good for both of us. An open, honest, and loving line of communication will help both of you build a “new normal” post deployment.

Reintegration isn’t a one-size-fits-all process. It’s awkward, sacred, messy, and beautiful. Give yourselves grace. The longer your spouse was away on deployment or TDY, the longer it will probably take to come back together as a team. But you’ll get there. Be open with one another, respect that you both have changed, and move forward knowing that while this military life can be extremely hard, it’s also one hell of an adventure.

—Helen

Need more? Check out these great resources on welcoming your service member home: Military OneSource, Cornerstone, Health.MIL

When I was a teenager, and wars ravaged in both Afghanistan and Iraq we went to a Memorial Day service in town. Hundreds of flags were set up in the park, each one representing a local service member who had died in the various wars. I walked through the fluttering colors and stood out by the river. It was 2006 and countless friends were all set to join up as soon as we all graduated high school. My brother couldn’t wait to follow in my dad’s footsteps and join the navy. A lot of people, just barely older than myself were dying far away in these wars that seemed to never end. The future seemed scary, and I tried not to imagine my friends’ names on the flags behind me.

This morning, I woke up to a call from my husband of 15 years who is currently deployed yet again.

“Hey baby.” I asked sleepily. “How was your day?”

“It was good.” he replied back, the time difference meaning that he was just about to go to bed.

We chatted about the kids, and my husband’s upcoming schedule to try and determine which days in the next coming weeks I could be expecting a call. A luxury not lost to me remembering the past deployments when we had no idea when he would call and prayed daily that he would come home to us again.

“Did you do anything for Memorial Day?” I ask, thinking of last year on this day when we ran a 5k in honor of his friends who passed away over the years.

“Not much.” he replied, “I grew out my sideburns and ate a pastrami sandwich.” he added, yawning and stretching out his tattooed frame, most of which he acquired on deployments over the years. Ink that he and his teammates would draw on each other after being up all night on missions. Each one becoming a story that had shaped him across his military career.

I smiled “Sounds like an awesome way to remember Dustin and Matt.” I said, knowing that you probably thought about them all day, your brothers who you said good-bye to over the years.

“They would be proud.” he said smiling a little.

We wrapped up the conversation and said good-bye until he would be able to call again. He told me to tell the kids he loved them, and I told him to be safe and take care of the sideburns.

Some years are like this, quietly remembering those before us, saying their names, trying our best to live big full lives will honor their sacrifice. Some years we don’t say a lot, instead doing shots for “all of our fallen homies”, and some years we go to all the events, where you mingle with other active duty and veterans alike, all of you with stories to share of your missing friends. And some years are quiet, and you eat pastrami sandwiches. Regardless of the difference in how we remember, we carry within us that gratefulness, the weight of knowing that none of this freedom is actually free.

Later, I’ll drive onto base and bring the kids to the small memorial set up by your team room. I will point their names, the soldiers who were once stationed alongside of you. Our kids will stand their quietly, as I tell them about your friends, about the freedoms they fought for, and how we can best remember them. And then we will do just that. We will pack up and drive to the beach for a few hours, and I’ll flip meat on the grill later, and they will lay, their little bodies stretched out on blankets in the grass, chatting about the treasured they found in the sand.

DOL

-Helen

I don’t know what in “Harriet the Spy” attracted me more, the way Harriet brazenly explored New York City by herself, the sense of purpose her notebook gave her, or the relationship she had with her nanny/companion Ole Golly.

Harriet wrote, “Golly says if I want to be a writer, I better start now, which is why I am a spy.”

I was mesmerized. It was decided. I would be a writer.

I took Ole Golly’s advice and became a spy that summer, dragging my sister and my best friend around the neighborhood with me. We spied on the cute paperboy (my best friend was in love with him), we spied on our parents and only got caught once (“how long have you been hiding in there!?”), we spied on the new family moving into the neighborhood and ended up becoming best friends with her too. More than spying though, I had found a new hobby, or obsession, or purpose. I wrote every night. I wrote every morning. After a few months my crew got bored of writing, and I kept going, writing notes about the day, and musings and dreams about the future.

The mystery and lure of writing hooked me at that very young age. I was attracted to the work, to the way writers took everyday words and built them into something that could be bound and kept forever. Bricklayers of language. I remember being 10 years old, clutching my notebook I took with me everywhere and walking through our local library, staring up at the soaring shelves above me and thinking “each of these books started with a single idea from a single person.”

That concept was so attractive to me. Almost as attractive as Jonathan Taylor Thomas, whose poster graced my purple bedroom walls. This new habit helped me through those weird pre-teen years. It helped me through moving to another state, and my first crush, and starting middle school, and high school, and my first prom.

Yes. I made my choice. I would become a writer. My family is big into college. My parents said they expected all of us to attend at least one year, and after that we could decide if we wanted to keep going. When I was 9 years old, two of my older sisters were in college, so I thought a lot about what I would study one day. I decided on major in journalism and minor in photography and then I’d work for National Geographic and write books on the side. Easy peasy, right? I remember we had this set of VHS' by National Geographic (the OG Our Planet with David Attenborough), and my favorite one wasn’t on the endangered species, or the rainforest, but the one about the photographers themselves. They were like rockstars, traveling from country to country with their cameras slung across their backs, risking everything to get the perfect shot.

I wanted that.

On of my older sisters was studying at a college outside of Boston and we would write letters back and forth. “How’s your writing going?” she would ask in her looping handwriting. She worked for her school’s newspaper as a writer, and I was enthralled with the idea that my sister was living out my dream, leading the way. Years later I read her manuscripts and wondered in awe at the characters she was creating. Impossible.

When I was in my teens, the fast-growing internet was threatening to take over all print media as we knew it. My uncle who wrote for the Washington Post said something like “Now might not be the best time to major in journalism. Not unless you want a job at least.” I took his words to heart and maybe used them as my escape from pursuing something I held so closely to my heart. What if I failed? So, instead of writing I studied design and build a beautiful career that I loved for ten wonderful years. But at night, I laid brick, and block by block kept my first love fed, some nights better than others. Some years better than others.

It was covid that changed things for me. My studio was shut down, interns left, and suddenly our downtown loft which held myself and husband and three kids, became my design space as well. Preschools closed. Contracts were cut short. Demand dwindled and soon I was closing that chapter of my life and stepping into motherhood full time. What a time to be alive. What a privilege it was to pour into our tiny humans’ full time. Diapers were changed, hair was brushed, lessons were taught. But in the evenings, I was a bricklayer.

Not really thought. Because I didn’t have the degree, the experience, the A+ next to the words I typed out at night. I had made my choice all those years ago, hadn’t I? I chose not to pursue writing like a real writer would. I read and wrote and looked up to the people in my life who were the real writers, the ones who would tell me when I had finally secured the title they wore.

These people who unbeknownst to them became gatekeepers in my life. The fearless older sister who went to Oxford, the brilliant friend who with an MFA in creative writing, and others. They deserved it more than I did. They had earned it. Entrance into the world I craved.

But something happened. I grew up, and I grew inward and outward at the same time. I tried and failed and tried again. I read and wrote and crumpled up and deleted and started again. One brick at a time to build something out of words that would last if only for myself. And one morning I woke up, and while I made my morning cup of tea suddenly realized: I am the gatekeeper of my own dreams.

I had been the gatekeeper all along.

All at once I stood there, in front of this gate that I had dreamed about for so long, all alone. It towered above me, ominous, and with bated breath I grasped the handle, opened the door and found… myself.

-Helen

May, be kind to me?

Give my body energy. Help my right hip to stop cracking. WebMD says it’s from over use, and I need to stop running so much. May? Help me to find another outlet for my anxiety. Let this stomach bug finally finish passing its way through our home.

“How does it jump so fast from tummy to tummy?” my daughter asks.

Oh, May. Bring us flowers and less fighting. Grant me the will to get up early so I can have a few moments of peace before I am called “Mom!” for the next 15 hours. May, please grant me the spark to work on the next section of my book. Creativity is leaking from my brain and it’s been hard to scoop it up and throw it on the page. Help my daughters to stop have nightmares so they can sleep through the night in their own beds. Even though waking up to two snuggly five-year-old girls asking me questions like “Do wolves live in our neighborhood?” doesn’t bother me. I’m just tired.

Oh, May. Please help my son to know how much we love him. Even though I tell him all the time, still I can’t help but worry what all of this separation from his Dad is doing to his nine-year-old brain.

Oh, May. Give me the energy to continue onward. Let me not shrink to please others. Help me to fix the lawn mower. Even though the long grass is pretty, I think the neighbors are annoyed.

May, thank you for finally being here. Please, be kind to me.

-Helen

But it is about smiling. Let me explain.

I’ve been training for a half marathon for the past 12 weeks. Well, actually 11 weeks. My race is one week from today. This is my first half since 2018, which seems like an eternity ago. Seven years ago, my husband and I were living in our hip and very trendy downtown loft apartment. Little Man was only two, I was deep in my last career in design, and my husband was deployed (ok I guess that part is still the same).

Regardless, here I am seven years, two kids, a house, a rather large dog, and a few grey hairs later. It’s harder to run now. Not only is it harder to carve out time to train, but I can tell my body is older and takes longer to recover. Side story on that topic: Yesterday I was playing laser tag with my son, and I took a corner too fast in our dining room and fell so hard that I somehow bruised my left hand, right hip, left knee right shin and left foot. Needless to say, my seven-mile run today was shorted to a fiver and I took an ice bath when I got home.

Ok, back to running and smiling. I’ve been using the Nike Running App for my training and one really cool feature (I promise this isn’t a sponsored post) is that you can chose guided run option. Now, I love to work, and I love the heart of a good coach, so this option had been gold for me. I’ve learned a ton about pacing, form and how to enjoy running even more. And smile. Yes, smile. When we’re deep in a long run it’s pretty common for one of the coaches to remind the listener to smile. Yes, smile, while running down the sidewalk until people walking by look at you like you’re crazy, which I might be a little bit. But you know what? It totally works and you feel weird at first and then you start to relax a little bit and you kind of laugh at yourself because you’re running down the street with a massive grin on your face and you actually laugh at the hilarity of it all.

This has been working so well while running that I decided to try it the other day at home during my day job of wrangling my kids. We were getting ready for school, and no one was listening, and one of the five-year-olds was telling me a story, while she put on her shoes on the wrong feet, and the nine-year-old was sliding down the banister and the other five year old was trying to tell the nine-year-old a joke and I couldn’t find my keys. And I was so stressed, and worried about being late, and then I just remembered to smile, and then I was laughing, and then my kid laughed and the other two joined in and pretty soon it was just funny. I said something like “Oh geez kids!” and they responded with “Oh geez mom!” and I found my keys (they were in my pocket), and we squeezed out the door and somehow made it to school on time.

And it was just a smile.

Here’s the thing: is life hard? Yes. Yes ma’am, it is. But it’s also funny, and beautiful and spontaneous, and excruciatingly bright and full and even in the midst of everything we can still smile. Even when we don’t feel like it, maybe especially when we don’t feel like it. We smile and take a deep breath and marvel at the fact that we’ve been given this gift of life. What a precious gift the sun, and the sky, and a bruised knee from playing laser tag, and a text from your husband that soon the deployment will be over, and we will all be together again.

What a marvelous gift is this thing called life.

-Helen