Making space
Hi Fam,
Okay, I’m making a slight deviation from our regularly scheduled programming to talk about the latest book I read.
(And to all my audiobook listeners like me — you are readers. Do not let anyone gatekeep literacy.)
You might not know this about me, but I’m actually a pretty private person. In-person, it usually takes me some time before I feel comfortable sharing anything personal with anyone. That said, once I sit behind my matte black Microsoft Surface (no, this isn't an ad but I just don't do Apple products, please do not unsubscribe), the words just flow. It's like iconic-90s-R&B-artist-in-the-studio energy. I am sending you a "4 Page Letter" Aaliyah-type vibes.
I recently listened to a book that genuinely took my breath away. At one point, I dropped my phone (incredibly dramatically) and immediately started typing this blog. Now, to be fully transparent, I am usually a murder mystery, suburban housewife-killer, fantasy-leaning reader. If you know me, you know I rarely deviate from my norm. I don’t change my hair much, my look stays pretty consistent… (and yet somehow, I still look the same? But that’s a post for another day.)
This time, though, I decided to do something different. How can we grow if we keep doing the same things day in and day out and expect a different result? As I scrolled through Audible, I stumbled upon a book called Atmosphere. I saw the words "emotional" and "thrilling" and I immediately thought, “Say less. I’m in.”
Without giving too much away, the book is written by one of my favorite authors, Taylor Jenkins Reid; you may know her as the author of "The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo". When I read a book, I want to forget where I am. I want to forget that I’m even reading. I want to be so immersed that I feel like I’ve wandered into a magical forest and simply…stayed there. If you know, you know.
The story takes place in the 1980s and follows a group of female astronauts as their lives unfold — their struggles, their grit, their journey toward the stars. To put it plainly, I was shook. I had to hold back real tears. I’m not sure a book has ever done that to me before.
Several passages made me reflect deeply on life as a parent and how I show up as one. You’ve probably heard the term gentle parenting, but I don’t think millennials are simply choosing to gentle parent. I think we’ve collectively decided to show up differently. We love our parents — they did the best they could, and they did a lot right. But our generation decided to carve our own lane. We don’t know exactly how this experiment will turn out, but we’re putting all our chips on the table.
For me, that means loving my son in whatever way he needs that love to be given. He can be whoever he wants to be in this world, and I will applaud him every step of the way. And that isn’t always easy, right? Because as we try to create these safe spaces for our children to grow in, they are their own person and moments of difference can bring up a lot of emotion.
When my son was two, he wasn’t talking as much as other kids. I carried so many questions every day. Did I do something wrong? How will people treat him? Those thoughts kept me up at night. It took time and a lot of grace to reach a place of peace. What I know now is this: no matter what, I will never love my son differently. I don’t treat people differently because they are different — and I don’t think we talk about that enough.
I believe millennials will continue to change this. We will advocate for our kids, for all kids, and for accessibility. We will keep pushing for a world that makes room for everyone.
And if you’re a parent out there with a child, a spouse, a friend — especially someone who is neurodivergent or navigating a world that doesn’t always make space — I just want you to know: I see you.
