Our editor in chic shares a letter to her daughter about sharing -- the good and bad -- with others.
A little over a year ago, I published one of the most personal things — actually THE most personal thing — I’ve ever shared in my entire life. I wrote this article called “Love Lessons” about our battle with infertility and your daddy’s RA.
I originally wrote it as a personal journal entry, never to see the light of day by anyone other than myself. But my mom happened to call me when I was finishing it (moms just know these things). So, she asked to read it when I was done.
After reading it, she called me sobbing and said I needed — no, HAD — to share with others.
With shaky hands, filled with self-doubt, I did. Almost immediately, I wanted to take it down. I felt so naked, so defective, so alone. But I’m glad I didn’t take it down.
By the end of the day, I was inundated with messages from friends and strangers who were fighting the same battle. All the sudden I wasn’t alone. I was surrounded with love and empathy from people secretly struggling, too.
I’m proud to say that a year later, I still get messages from people thanking me for sharing. I’ve even made new friends and am helping them navigate their way through fertility treatments. One of them just posted about it being National Infertility Awareness Week, which is why I decided to write about this topic today.
So I encourage you, as tough as it may be, remember to share. Because shared joy is a double joy and shared sorrow is half a sorrow. And that, my dear, is a winning equation.