I spent a lot of time with my fellow moms from school this week. My husband had Covid which means I had to do both drop-off and pick-up, and as someone who usually only does the sweet “hello-nod-hi” wave in my leggings and giant sweatshirt in the morning at drop-off, I found that pick-up is a whole other ballgame. Pick-up is a hang. The kids hang and the parents talk. My older son is in fourth grade, so I know and love that parent group well, but I am just learning how to have a separate group of parent friends for my middle son who just started Pre-K.
While sitting with two Pre-K moms this week our conversation quickly turned from kids and Pre-K adjustments to work and stress. My new friend, Emily, said that she had the roughest meeting earlier that day. The kind of meeting where your work, your value, and your contributions all suddenly come into question. She said she handled it by knowing her value and that she did not care what others thought. She knew the value she brought to the company in her role and was not going to waste her time and energy on placating them. She had just turned 40.
I applauded her, obviously, and thought about my own trajectory. I turned 40 in February and while I have felt that freedom in certain areas of my life, I have still struggled in others. I recently had something I worked very hard on taken away at work and I had to really reframe my thinking around it--instead of letting my feelings be too hurt by it, I needed to let it go and move forward. My job is just my job. The value they see in my work is not the value I see in myself. I needed to care less. I needed to fully embrace a “Fuck It 40s” mentality.
So here I am embracing that. Fuck it. I have been writing one way or another my whole life. I also read and cook to complete abandon. Why not write about all of it? These are things I like. Maybe you will like them too.
Read:
Beware the Woman by Megan Abbott
Look, I am not always a fan of the “gaslit-woman-in-danger” drama, because it is a very thin and often precarious line, but I started Beware the Woman by Megan Abbott and was immediately all in. We start with a newly married and newly pregnant Jacy driving from New York to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula with her husband Jed to meet her father-in-law. Their arrival is joyful, comfortable, Jacy’s father-in-law an elegant and well-mannered Midwesterner who welcomes the couple with open arms. We learn that Jed’s mother died in childbirth and the details, as you can imagine, are hazy as hell.
Things begin to go south when Jacy has a health scare and is ultimately diagnosed with placental previa—a condition where the placenta covers the cervix causing periods of heavy bleeding and often resulting in a c-section delivery. As Jacy tries to cope with her diagnosis, the men surrounding her begin to treat her with what initially seems like genuine care, but swiftly turns into control surrounding her condition, her body, her medical history, and her ultimately her freedom to make her own medical choices. Her seemingly progressive Brooklyn boy husband teeters back into his Midwest teenager roots and provides no support for Jacy and, even after initial trepidation and possible warnings regarding his father, falls back into his clutches and manipulations. Jacy spirals as she tries to advocate for herself, her body, and her baby while also questioning her mental health as those around her continue to gaslight and control her. Throughout this Jacy comes to rely on the mysterious house manager, Mrs. Brandt, for support and insight into the family history and what exactly happened to Jed’s mother building up to the book’s ultimate climax.
The creeping dread in this book is what I most admire. Megan Abbott is known for writing crime fiction from a realistic female perspective that incorporates seemingly taboo women’s issues like sex, their periods, and female desire. Beware the Woman is no exception. The slow buildup, the downfall of Jed and the creeping, creeping sense of dread as the days and nights go on in this secluded place had me absolutely enthralled. The loss of Jacy’s body autonomy also felt especially relevant in today’s political landscape and the plethora of feelings that have gone into what it means to take abortion and basic healthcare away from women. It also spoke to my own experiences in carrying and having children. I had two easy pregnancies and one complicated one. In the complicated one I was initially diagnosed with placental previa—same as Jacy—but as my pregnancy progressed, it became chronic placental abruption which basically means my placenta started detaching long before it should have and also resulted in periods of heavy bleeding. The blood in this book—soaking through the dead mother’s robe, the cut on Jacy’s hip, the fear of going to the bathroom because you’re always, always, always checking for blood was so visceral for me. I couldn’t get over it. Jacy’s obsession with blood and hiding blood and checking for blood was like looking in a mirror during my last pregnancy. Megan Abbott captured the heightened anxiety of a complicated pregnancy and coupled it with confounding dread with absolute precision.
Watch:
Wilderness
I meant to start with a very smart show, but then I began watching this, and it took over my brain. From the opening song, this is a Taylor Swift fever dream of a show with love, betrayal, travel, lies, work, hiking, convertibles, cute outfits, the thrill of New York City, sex, saunas and so much more. This is not a show that will win any awards, but I was sucked in from the moment I hit Play.
Make:
One Pan Herb Butter Chicken and Zucchini Rice Pilaf
Everyone loves Half Baked Harvest. She has a way of making a seemingly very simple recipe so flavorful. I know what you’re thinking—it’s just chicken and rice—but my entire family had thirds. THIRDS! The sage, the butter, the thyme, the rosemary, the ooh la la. Trust me.