Power Trip
Confessions of an Author Who Isn’t Ashamed to Do #SponCon
‘Stop making me feel bad about my ads’
Four years ago, my husband Aaron died of brain cancer. That’s not the topic of this piece, but it was the impetus for everything that came afterward. When Aaron died, at age 35, I entered my own mid-life crisis. I quit my job, I published my first book, started freelance writing, and created a podcast with American Public Media. I cobbled together a career where I talk about very hard things. It’s a niche. And one that I’m learning to be proud of. A strange — often lovely, occasionally maddening — byproduct of my life at this moment is the online “presence” I now have as a result of the book and the podcast and everything that has come after. Instagram, particularly, has been a space where I’ve found comfort and support and encouragement while I navigate this new version of my life (Twitter is just where I argue with idiots).
My life has changed a lot since I joined Instagram in 2011, when my photos were all inane, overly-filtered brunches with Aaron. Now, Instagram is a place where people ask me about everything from how to support a grieving friend to what brand of lipstick I prefer, a place where I share my work in writing and podcasting, and connect with the people who listen to and read my writing. And then…
