I had an essay published!

When I graduated with my master’s degree a year ago, I worried that I would fall back into old patterns of not prioritizing my writing life.

But, something shifted—I decided that wasn’t going to be my story anymore.

I chose differently.

I decided that no one else would think of me as a writer if I didn’t believe it first.

As I assembled the essays that made up my final thesis, a collection of pieces called Love Songs, I honestly didn’t think anyone aside from my thesis advisor and the evaluation committee would read them.

Which made me sad, because I was deeply proud of them.

In my abstract, I wrote that the collection:

“…untangles what it means to love and be loved. This collection explores the complexity of love within loss, addiction, disassociation, and religion. In Love Songs, the reader sits with their humanity in the pews of a suburban New Jersey church and on the sand of a beach in San Clemente, among others, to discover what it means to feel vulnerable, raw, and ultimately, loved.”

I bled pieces of life into the essays that ultimately formed my final thesis. Together, the five pieces created what my thesis advisor called, “something resembling a harmony.” She told me they read like songs. They sounded like music.

it was one of the biggest compliments I’ve been given about my writing.

It was her words, and the comments of the evaluation committee, that made me believe that my words were worth sharing.

Part of my commitment to prioritizing my writing life includes trying to find a published home for the essays in my collection. Meaning, I submit those essays to literary magazines and journals, hoping that someone else out there feels my heart beating on the page.

When I got the email from the editors at Pinch that my essay “Self-less” was going to be printed in their Spring 2025 issue, I was overwhelmed with emotions.

Not only was it the most experimental essay in the collection; it was also one of the essays that I thought most people wouldn’t “get.” It was different. It was risky. It played with perspective and broke a lot of “rules.”

I still have the acceptance email saved in my Starred section on Gmail.

One of their senior editors remarked, “The separation of the voices is done so well here.”

I felt so seen. As someone who loves to play with style and form when writing creative nonfiction, I never really know how my non-traditional pieces will be received.

The fact that THIS essay had been accepted for publication affirmed that I’m allowed to be me as a writer.

My gift is being different. My gift is writing from my heart. My gift is following my fingers as they type instead of letting my head get in the way.

“Self-less” is a vulnerable essay that deals with the disassociation and anxiety that I experienced as a sales person during a particularly low season. While I’m grateful for that period of my life for so many reasons, there were a few months that were, honestly, a little dark.

People always ask why I write personal essays and memoir. Why would I want to publish my private life for everyone to read? Isn’t it awkward? Why don’t I just fictionalize it?

I’ve never found the right words to answer. There’s just some internal compass that keeps pointing me back to creative nonfiction.

a few minutes after I received the email of acceptance, the doubt and fear crept in.

What if so-and-so read it? What would so-and-so think? Maybe I shouldn’t announce it was accepted? Was it too honest?

It was the first time I genuinely considered, Maybe I shouldn’t do this?

But I write memoir because it’s the only way I know how to extend my hand to someone and say, “I see you because I am you.” I write it with the hope that my words land in the hands of someone who can sigh a breath of relief and say, “Holy shit, I thought I was the only one.” I write memoir so that for a few minutes, we can sit together in the understanding of our shared humanity, instead of alone.

Everyone has their highs. Everyone has their lows. And many people know what it’s like to be at rock bottom.

If someone read this essay and thought differently of me, they weren’t my kind of person, anyway.

And I can make peace with that.

you can purchase the Spring 2025 Issue (45.1) by clicking here for a friends & family discount plus free shipping. 

Thanks for being in my world. And thank you to everyone who has congratulated me, celebrated with me, and sent me kind words about this acceptance. It genuinely means more than I can ever say.

xx

Court