Get Comfortable With Being Seen

Hey, there, stranger. It’s been a minute. Good to see you.

Blogging has always been, for me, something that starts and stops. And it stopped this time for a good long while. But I’m ready to start again, and we’ll see how long it goes this time. Thanks for sticking with me.

This time, my inspiration came from Sharla Yates in a recent episode of The Writer’s Bridge, an excellent monthly webinar that informs and guides writers through the many facets of the industry. Sharla said (at the 58-minute mark), “In my experience, the writers who find success tend to be the ones who show up consistently and aren’t afraid to share their work, not necessarily the most talented…You can also take chances when they come, raise your hand, share your pitch, and get comfortable with being seen.”

I don’t like being seen. I like to hide in my basement office, toiling over words, never quite finishing a project. It’s safe there. Not scary.

Not satisfying, either, though. It goes against why I write in the first place: to share with others, to bring others comfort, to say, hey, I know you’re feeling this way, and you’re not alone; I’ve felt that way, too.

It’s not easy to be vulnerable, especially these days. But I want to be braver. I can do hard things. I know I can.

So at least for now, I’m here. You can see me. And I’ll work on being more comfortable with that.

I was gifted a new Oracle deck this Christmas where all the cards are birds. I’ve always been drawn to birds: I had one as a pet growing up, I keep chickens now, I have a bird tattoo on my back. So this seemed right up my alley. The first bird I pulled from the deck was the wren, which gave this message: “If you’ve gotten off track, adjust your course and get back on the path you’ve spent your precious life clearing.” Which was more than appropriate, as I had spent the month of December planning how I would improve myself and my life in 2026, and then as soon as the year started, I got a massive head cold that knocked me out for two weeks. Since then, I’ve pulled the goose (overcoming obstacles), the blue-footed booby (make a game of your challenges), and the woodpecker (find smart workarounds), who all seem to be telling me that I can’t let minor inconveniences keep me from achieving my goals. And so you find me in your email inbox this morning.

This year, one of my many goals is to reconnect with past passions, activities I did earlier in life that have since fallen by the wayside. That includes dance, playing flute, and even twirling baton. But the most pressing is re-learning French, since we have a trip to Paris coming up in less than three months.

I took French for three semesters in college, which was a rather foolish thing to do, since I had two years of high school Spanish already under my belt. But I was obsessed with Dawson’s Creek and felt akin to the heroine Joey Potter, who wanted so desperately to go to France (even though she gave up one opportunity to stay home for a boy). But (spoiler alert) she did make it to France eventually, and I thought perhaps I would, too.

Cut to 20 some years later, and that prophecy is finally being fulfilled. My French was never proficient, and I’m finding what little I did know is quite rusty. One phrase that has lived inexplicability in my memory this whole time: Mon oncle est un petit chien. College kids find the weirdest stuff funny, I guess.

So apparently Taika Waitiki just throws away his drafts and starts from scratch, trusting that he’ll remember what’s important. I see the merit in the that method, but would never trust myself to perform it. When I write anything that I deem “good,” I credit some outside source: some muse whispering in my ear, my fingers moving over my keyboard on their own accord. I always fear that, once I write something “good,” I’ll never write anything good again. I suppose one way to break myself of that thought is to give Taika’s method a try.

In October, I switched jobs from a position that was very public facing to a quieter, more independent position. I mostly do repetitive work with my hands now, which allows me to listen to audiobooks all day. In my first three months, I listened to 25 books, which is all new territory for me, since I’m usually a very slow reader.

When it comes to rating books on Goodreads, though, I usually don’t. As a writer myself, I wouldn’t want anyone to give my books less than 5 stars, so I don’t want to give any author less than 5 stars. They deserve 5 stars just for writing a book, because if you don’t know, writing a book is quite difficult indeed! Besides, does the world really need MORE judgment?

One I finished recently, The Antidote, was considered one of the Best Fiction of 2025 in Book Page, so I gave it a listen. No need to give my opinion of it, when Malavika Praseed summed it up quite well.

No matter one’s opinion of the plotting and inclusion of historical messaging, it cannot be denied that this book is wholly unique and represents one of the modern greats continuing to challenge herself.

-Malavika Praseed, Chicago Review of Books

How nice that Malavika praised Russel for continuing to challenge herself. A task that, for sure, deserves recognition.

My kiddo loves cherry tomatoes, and we get the super-large container of them from CostCo, but sometimes they get forgotten, and I had a container and a half of soft, wrinkly red orbs. So I made this tomato soup with some muenster grilled cheeses and it was chef’s kiss.

I’m re-watching Shrinking since the new season comes out at the end of the month. Something I’ve always loved about the show is how it so expertly intertwines sorrow with joy, the two emotions constantly co-existing. Is there anything more human (and entertaining) than that? I don’t think so.

Hope to see you next time. Make sure you don’t miss it - subscribe!

Want to share with all your friends? Hit the button below.

Share