Posts

An Open "PM" to Polly

Hey Polly, it’s me- Melissa. Can I call you Polly? Because I feel like I know you. Do I know you? We’ve been in the same social media circles for many months now.I see from your profile that you went to Cornell. I have a lot of friends that graduated from there. It’s an awesome school. What year did you graduate? I also see that you’re self-employed. I really respect entrepreneurs, particularly female entrepreneurs. What’s your business? Are you a photographer because your Facebook profile picture of Doubleday Field is fantastic.I see that you don’t have any Facebook friends, Polly. I understand that. Are you lonely? It can be really lonely around here. Listen Polly, this election got really nasty but at the end of the day are all neighbors right? Do you want to meet, do you want to talk about it? Haven’t seen you on social media since the election. I totally get where you’re coming from, Polly. It’s been hard for me, too. When you put yourself out there with really strong opinions pe…

He Said. She Said. They Said. Silence.

Don’t run I said.It gets nasty I said.Don’t worry he said.It will be fine he said. I always worry I said.He’s not the best person for the job they said.He’s always late they said.He never goes to meetings they said.This is ridiculous I said.Are you going to put up with this bullshit I said.It’s not a big deal he said.Ignore them he said.I can’t help but call them out I said.Tell Your wife to shut up they said.Keep your wife under control they said.It doesn’t bother me I said.I’ll laugh it off I said.He’s not doing a good job they said.He’s not there for us they said. He supports Osama Bin Laden they said.This isn’t funny I said.Aren’t you pissed I said.Yes, it’s crazy he said.It’ll be ok he said.Don’t trust your “friends” he said.He’s the life lock dentist they said.This is insane I said.This hurts I said.I want this to be over he said.This is politics they said.Grow thicker skin they said.I don't understand why I said.I can’t be silent I said.I can’t stop you he said.I love him I…

The Outsiders

I have lived in small, rural northeastern towns my entire life, except for a few short stints in Boston and California and my six-month study abroad in Costa Rica. As a teenager and young adult, I wanted out of small town life. I had big dreams of joining the Peace Corps or a living in Australia, or basically as far away from home as possible. But somehow those dreams didn’t come true and instead I ended up in another small, northeastern, rural town just a few short hours away from my own hometown.I wish I could say that my geographic dreams changed but that would be a lie. To this day, I still wish I could travel the world and experience cultures very different from my own. However, over time I have grown to appreciate, and find contentment, living in a place not that much different from my home. As an adult, my home is an incredibly special place to me and always will be. When I go there, to visit my parents, I realize that, as a kid, I never appreciated how lucky I was to grow up w…

A Daughter's Life

My kids are amazing. They're finally becoming humans. I can't believe that I created these people and, under my parenting, they're thriving, interesting kids. I know in a few years I'm going to be frustrated about this but right now I'm pretty pumped that they have their own ideas and a mind of their own. Charlotte in particular, who has the gift of gab, a way of putting things, and a really uncanny ability to articulate things unlike most seven years old, entertains me daily. My kids are both definitely what I would call "characters". Since I am weird, I am particularly proud that they are, too.A lot of my parenting time is spent considering ways that we, as a family, can better support Caroline with her life goals. While it is hard, I am at peace with having a child with a disability because it has made me a better person, a stronger person and a more empathetic human being. But I'm an adult and I'm able to reflect on my life experience in a dif…

The Memo

When I was growing up, getting married and having kids were never on my to do list. I had lots of professional aspirations, and dreams of traveling the world, but not once did I think, "Oh, I hope I'll get married and be a mom." Then, it might seem like the perfect Hallmark movie plot: I met the man of my dreams. He was tall, dark (haired) and handsome and was also very charming. And being from the Midwest, he was certainly interested in getting married. As a matter of fact he'd already had marriage conversations with some of his girlfriends before he ever even entered college.At first, we were an odd couple because there I was walking around with my personal copy of the Yellow Wallpaper and my membership card to The National Organization for Women and there he was, a hybrid historian/businessman in training, who was definitely still playing the field, whose his first commitment-related question to me was whether or not, if he bought an apartment building, I would be…

I Love Otsego but I Love Andy More

Growing up, my big brother was your typical older brother. He loved to torture me and his favorite hobby was making me mad or making me cry. He took my own stuff and made me buy it back from him at a yard sale. He put dog crap in my socks and sneakers. He threw spit balls at me, pinched me and never let me win at any games. Despite his daily doses of teasing and displeasing me, I did notice that he wasn't particularly interested in other people making me mad or making me cry. I'm not saying he was ready to fight on my behalf, or ride up on a white horse to protect me, but he was pretty firm in his position as the number one bane of my existence. Despite the fact that he no longer tortures me quite like he used to, our relationship has left a lasting impression on me, long into adulthood. As a self proclaimed arm chair therapist, I take note that I have been trying to work through that relationship for years-with Andy. Poor Andy had no idea that, when we started dating, I'…

The Older Woman

The other night, while changing out of her work clothes, a woman looked in the mirror. Her hair was flattened against the side of her face. Her eye liner, slid from under her lids, resembled a raccoon. Her makeup had long faded, revealing deep creases around the edges of her eyes. The skin on her neck, like the eye liner, looked as though it had slid down her body, little rolls and folds where there used to be tight flesh. The veins on her skin popped up from her hands and feet, uncovering the wear and tear of time. Her naked body exposed years of use, of growing children, of nourishing children, of lifting children, of carrying children. Her breasts, her belly, her thighs and hips all rounder than they once were, all no longer able to fight gravity, their weight heavy on her frame. Her body had stretched and grown and given and been forgotten and neglected and loaned as a tool, as a vehicle, as a mechanism, as a means to an end and that end was giving light to others while she fell …