My love language—the way I show love—is gift giving. (the way I best receive love is words of affirmation… in case you wanna tell me how awesome I am.) I LOVE finding the exact right gift for someone. Showing up to Secret Santa parties, I usually forget that I also GET a present. At KHOL’s Secret Santa party last week, there was a mishap where I actually got two gifts from coworkers. And the gifts I got were way better than the one I gave. (I’m off my game lately.)
The first came with a notecard with this quote:
“Great stories happen to those who can tell them.”
– Ira Glass
Already, my heart was so touched—storytelling! Ira Glass! My favorite things.
Then I opened this picture frame with all these photos from my KHOL days of yore! 😭♥️
On the back? A photo of the current in-office KHOL team and a QR code that goes to a Spotify playlist of one of my KHOL shows from 2011!!
Who remembers the Morning Scramble?? So so special. Thank you to an amazing coworker/reporter/friend/human, Dante, who completely blew it out of the water with the incredible/thoughtful/beautiful/lovely gift.
The second gift I got from a Secret Santa was a total mistake, but a beautiful one. My colleague Sophie gave me this thoughtful book of essays with a note about how excited she is to read my upcoming books of essays and my latest essay in The New York Times.
Yes, on Friday, I’ll have my second Modern Love essay published in The New York Times online. On Sunday, it will be in the print paper. With a .5% chance of getting one piece published in Modern Love, I’m a bit beside myself that this will be my second. (“You could get into Harvard 20 times before you could get into the ‘Modern Love’ column.”)
In 2021, when I got off the phone with the editor, Daniel Jones, I called Evan. I told Evan…
Me: They’re gonna publish it. I’m going to be in The New York Times.
Evan: Congratulations, Ray!
And I BURST into tears.
This time was different. This essay is about shame. This essay is about the worst thing I’ve done. It’s also about my sister and her struggles with addiction. This conversation with Daniel Jones went differently…
Daniel: You should probably check in with your sister and let her know what you talk about in this essay.
Me: Right. Yes. I will do that. And I should probably give my mom a heads up.
Daniel: You haven’t told your mom about this?
Me: Dan, I haven’t told ANYONE about this. Well, I’ve told Evan. And a therapist or two.
I had the conversation with my sister—who celebrated one year clean yesterday. I know for a fact that conversation would’ve been different if she wasn’t clean… if she was struggling more. If she was more recently in recovery, even.
And then I had to call my mom and tell her about my deepest secret. I guess I didn’t have to tell her, but I didn’t want her to be surprised when my darkest shame hit newsstands. The first essay was about me becoming a mother and how much I looked to and love my own mother. This one is about me being a very flawed human who also talks about my mother’s other daughter’s addiction. I didn’t think she would be as excited about this published piece… for some reason…
I told my mom through tears. I was ready to tell the world, but unready to tell my mom. Telling my mom about this story took me right back to the shame and I just couldn’t stop crying. My mom said, “Oh, honey…” She told me that she was so sorry I went through this by myself. She told me she could see how this could happen and that “she kinda knew.” Parents always know.
This time is so different. I haven’t yet burst into tears of joy like the first time. This time I can’t tell if I’m scared or not. If I’m happy or not. But I’ve been crying a ton, unclear why. Even my best friend was like, “Have you maybe missed a day or two of your Zoloft?” after I just kept crying.
But I think I’ve figured it out. They are happy tears. Complicated, big, alligator, happy tears. There are things in life that I have wanted so deeply, but cannot ask for. Things that I’m too afraid to ask for. I have wanted my sister to be clean for (obviously at least) a whole year for two decades now. I have wanted it so deeply it hurts. Some days, weeks, years, it’s ALL I’ve wanted. When I prayed to God, it was our main topic of discussion. And I know the road is long and complicated for an addict, but my sister has made it a year. I am so damn proud of her. My sister is a year clean and that is just the most amazing gift that I could never have asked for. She had to give that to herself and I just get to reap the benefits of having my sister back.
If I hadn’t gotten this story published, I maybe would’ve never told my mother. And I didn’t realize how badly I wanted my mom to tell me it was okay. I think it’s hard to believe that love is unconditional, sometimes even more so from parents. I didn’t realize until my conversation with my mom was over, that I wanted so badly for her to tell me it was okay. That she understood. This was a gift I’ve always wanted, but wouldn’t have ever asked for.
I’ve been crying lately, because I’m getting everything I’ve wanted that I was too afraid to ask for. Everything that I’ve been too scared to look directly at. Everything that I wanted from other people, but couldn’t or wouldn’t ask for. And while everything feel so scary and raw still—the side effects of vulnerability—I am so grateful for these gifts.
May you get everything you asked for and all the things you’re too afraid to want this holiday season.
Quick Hits:
Jam of the Week: The Christmas Jug Band – Santa Lost A Ho.
(my family and I have been cracking up about this song around the house. pro tip: KUTX is playing the best holiday music mix these days.)
Speaking Of Christmas Music.
(a friend recently reminded me that this CD [yes, CD!] exists. I was OBSESSED with this CD when I was a kid. taking it for a spin today.)This Podcast Ep About Friendship Is Beautiful.
(and yes, the Modern Love podcast is my next level to unlock… how do I get one of my favorite celebrities to read one of my essays?!??)(Momma, Marcelline, and I saw The Nutcracker this year in Austin and it was beautiful. I love it. not sorry.)
My BFF Is Trying To Get Me To Go To Italy This Summer For Her 40th.
(and it’s kinda working. she gifted me this and this for Christmas.)She Also Got Me This Perfect Pin.
(from this perfect Georgetown shop.)
(for late Christmas gifts to honor Diane.)
This Made Me Laugh.
(“there’ll be scary ghost stories…” 🤷🏻♀️)
I Love A Vintage Christmas Moment.
(♥️.)
This.
(I’m learning that self-love is something that you don’t learn once. it’s a forever journey. I hope you are loving yourself and forgiving yourself and laughing at yourself and remembering how amazing you are. do it, okay? if you promise to love yourself, I’ll promise to try loving myself. deal?)
Happiest Holidays, Messayist readers!!! I’m so damn grateful for you and this community. It means so much to me that you’re here. Thank you for believing in me and my writing. Guess what?
xxo,
rachel.
Rachel, I think you’re an incredible writer and I’m grateful to have you in print/substack/modern love/ etc. I always look forward to your work. Our paths crossed maybe during our Teton days and that makes it all the more entertaining. Cheers to you and yours! May our paths cross again! Best, Emily