there is nothing wrong with you

notes from the pie lady

Hello friend. Would you do me a favor? When you read the word friend, anywhere I write, would you please swap it out in your head with YOUR name? Like, go back and read that first part again. Hello <your name>. Thank you. It means a lot to me because when I finally decide to sit down and write here, I often go through the subscriber list and look at your names, both before I start writing and right before I hit publish. You and your you-ness matters to my writing.

When The Pie Loop started in late 2016 I knew each and every person on the list. They were the early adopters, the ones who trusted my version of crazy and were willing to go on a weird and wonderful adventure with me. Some knew me from former work places, some were family (mostly non-biological, but a few bio-family came out of the woodwork too). All were strangely intrigued by my absolute belief in the power of pie to transform the world. Even typing that now I can hardly believe anyone signed up. They did. You did. And together we created a whole lot of joy.

For a few weeks I’ve been foraging some of my favorite seasonal fruits: tart cherries and juneberries. I’ve jammed the home fridge full and pitted a mess (or is it a murder?) of cherries (looks like murder). Today, I am making the dough. I love this part. It’s embedded into my physical memory like riding a bike or tying a shoelace. Being a student in school I rarely have this feeling lately so when it comes I am almost reduced to tears. I miss this. I miss you.

Last week I spent time with a friend who lost her business early in the pandemic. She spoke about the untethered feelings that would come months, even years later. They came in crashing waves. She talked about watching me with empathy and deep knowing. What a storm we’ve weathered. What a thing to create something so beautiful, so close to our hearts, and then let it go. We are both now feeling our way forward through the compost.

Finding work after Pie & Mighty has been hard. Finding a way to tell the story without sounding like a total failure has been super hard, most likely because I have felt like a failure. I did find some really awesome, should have been perfect jobs (Gia, Cedar & Stone). But no matter how amazing the job was, a few weeks or months in, I would become a real life goldilocks. I fit in exactly nowhere. I would start expecting (unconsciously) a place to heal what was broken (my heart) and see me. Definitely, not what the employer signed up for.

After bouncing around, I finally gave up and decided to try school. Now, I am more than half way through becoming a massage therapist.

(this is what I hear in my head)

Friend, <your name>, it is HARD. I am in a class right now called trauma informed health care. Yes, massage therapists are health care providers, and yes, the world is FULL of people who have experienced trauma, so of course it is a required class. The statistics are that 70% of the world has experienced trauma. Those who might go on to develop PTSD are far fewer, only about 6% is the most current estimate. I could go into why I think that number is low, but that isn’t why I sat down to write today. Why did I sit down to write? Apparently to distract myself from making pie dough. Shit.

Anyway, trauma informed health care has got me all up in my head. Fight, flight, freeze - I am a freezer. In class yesterday there was a slide that showed different kinds of boundaries: rigid, porous, and healthy. Guess which one is me?

I have lived so much of my life surviving, staying busy, working with my hands and steering clear or my thoughts or feelings about myself. School is offering me the opportunity to sit with my thoughts and daring me to ask questions about myself.

What is wrong with you has been my internal question since I can ever remember. Why can’t I be more like this person, or that entrepreneur? A dear friend has a tattoo that reads “comparison is the thief of joy.” I think of it and offer it as advice all. the. damn. time. What is wrong with me that I can’t heed my own words?

Sweetie, friend, <your name>, there is nothing wrong with you. When your brain fires up the next launch code, getting ready to explode whatever is on its way to you, hunker, and do take cover. But it isn’t coming to you because there is something wrong with you. It isn’t coming because this is just how things are for you. It is coming to help you see (perhaps again) that there can be another question. We can love our sweet little selves and lean into grace. Amazing, truly.

Sweetheart: what happened to you?

For years I have stepped in and out of wanting to be a writer. I am not saying that I am going to be a writer, or that I can see a story emerging here. But I do think I need an audience, I do so much want to tell stories and hear yours. So in that spirit, here I am, again.