Parenting

self insemination kit

Updated: March 31, 2014
Originally Published: Dec. 2, 2013

The past six months have been incredibly tough for me. It’s not exactly typical to feel like crying (and sometimes actually do) when someone casually asks, “How are you?” Yet, that has become my reality for quite a while now.

After publishing my first book, I experienced a euphoric rush from the highs of being an author. Sure, there were some lows—like the time only one person attended my reading—but they were overshadowed by the excitement of hitting the New York Times list, embarking on a book tour, and selling foreign rights. I became hooked on that exhilarating feeling.

However, that thrill came to a screeching halt. One summer day, I called my agent to express my boredom. I lamented that no one seemed interested in interviews, speaking engagements, or readings anymore. I craved that rush I had grown accustomed to. “Write another book,” she suggested. So, I did.

When the hard part of writing was behind me, I eagerly anticipated the release of my second book. As a seasoned author this time, I thought I knew what to expect. It was going to be even bigger and better than the first one. I was ready for the universe to deliver those highs again!

Unfortunately, the anticipated highs never materialized. Instead, I was met with a string of disappointments. Right before the release, I learned about a dispute with my publisher, which led to Barnes and Noble pulling all my books from their shelves—no in-store promotions, no online visibility, and no chance for a book tour. I was advised to keep quiet about the situation and focus on Amazon sales, which I attempted to do.

The first week’s sales were disheartening, and things only worsened. It could have been the Barnes and Noble fiasco, the aftermath of the Boston Marathon bombings, or the flood of similar-themed books being released simultaneously. Perhaps it was simply too soon for my second book, or maybe I was destined to be a one-hit wonder.

Whatever the reason, while my first book had strong sales, my second was indicating that a third would be unlikely. I felt as if I’d been blindsided by a train. How did I go from riding a thrilling roller coaster to this?

The setbacks continued. A promising 20/20 segment that my community and I filmed was scrapped for being “too positive.” The media coverage I was promised never materialized, and books failed to arrive at various events, leaving me unable to sell to an eager audience. I tried to maintain a sense of humor about it all, but without any highs to counterbalance the lows, my second book became a source of frustration.

Time and again, I was told to avoid discussing negative experiences on my platform. “Nobody likes a loser,” I was warned. “Appear successful, and success will follow.” So, I kept quiet, hoping my book would experience a turnaround. Each week that passed without improvement chipped away at my self-worth.

This blog, always a space for honesty, became a place where I felt I had to mask my true feelings. I had built a community based on authenticity, yet I found myself unable to express my disappointments. As a result, I began to disappear, bringing in more contributors to fill the void I could not articulate.

While I take pride in how community-driven this site has become, there are countless topics I can no longer write about—my pregnancy feels like a distant memory, and my children have reached ages where I prefer to keep their experiences private. I value the diverse perspectives of other women, but I also miss having my voice heard. This feeling has led me to resent the very site that I created and love.

You might think this sounds trivial or even self-indulgent. Perhaps you’re rolling your eyes and labeling this as “first-world problems.” I recognize how fortunate I’ve been to publish two books, and things surely could be worse. But, regardless, the last six months have worn me down. It’s been a long stretch of putting on a brave face and adhering to advice that felt stifling.

Now, I’m ready to climb out of this rut. I want to reclaim the pride I once felt and shed the weight of disappointment. I want to write freely again, moving past the insecurity that’s held me back. So, here it is—the unvarnished truth from me. Halle-freakin-lujah.

Onward and upward, my friends. It’s time to move forward.

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Summary: After a roller coaster experience with my first book, the release of my second left me feeling defeated and overwhelmed by disappointments. Despite the struggles, I’m determined to reclaim my voice and share the honest truth of my journey while acknowledging the importance of community support.