Motherhood Prepared Me for Rejection
No Mom! You're such a Boomer. Don't be a Karen. You have negative aura. The sighs. The eye rolls. The tea-kettle escalation from being asked to pick up their shit to full-blown screaming. I’ve heard it all as a mom of four. Nothing prepared me for motherhood, but having teen children has definitely prepared me for rejection. For five months, I parked my ass in a chair and ground out the chapters of Grief, Grace, and Garlic Naan, a travel memoir with a CIA hook I was sure would land a literary agent in weeks. Instead, I learned what every debut memoirist without a celebrity platform eventually learns: the market is not exactly a feeding frenzy. An agent is more likely to drink from the Ganges than devour buttery, delicious garlic naan. Still, the writing made one thing clear: I’ve never felt more alive on the page, and I’m no quitter. Motherhood already trained me for that. This week, between delivering consequences to my teen for sabotaging coaching relationships, and unpack...