It's Not Just Me
They say the internet does more harm than good.
The sun is shining, the hills are green, and our rainfall has reached 39.5 inches so far this season.
Dear reader, thank you for writing back to my last letter. Though I never expect it, I always hope that my writing will strike a chord deep enough to provoke a comment from someone.
Not only did many of you share pieces of your heart with me, you also refrained from trying to fix mine, and it actually made me feel better. Isn’t it amazing that the way to alleviate pain is often not through solutions, but by simply recognizing it? Sometimes it feels like only a few people are willing to go into the dark with me, but now I know at least a few hundred people are, and some of them are men.
As I alluded to, I wasn’t sure how the letter would land with my male readers. I don’t have many, and I was almost certain I wouldn’t hear back from them this time around, but I was wrong. One reader left behind a comment that I thought about for days:
“As a man I will never fully be able to understand the experience of periods, but as a healthcare provider, I have conversations about periods almost daily with patients. Reading stories like this help me take much better care of my patients and help me just begin to understand what they're going through. And as a partner of women, who does his best to be aware of such things, it helps me create a space where I can listen to better understand so that we don't have to push this topic under the rug(if my partner is interesting in talking about this). Going to be sharing this one a lot.” -
I anticipated that my readers who bleed would share the letter with each other. What I hadn’t considered was the possibility of a man sharing the letter with his partner. It was a mindfuck, mostly because I’ve never asked my partner to read any of my letters, nor has he asked to see them.
I’ll admit that sometimes the reason I keep my letters from T. is the fear of being rejected by him. In theory I know that if my writing repels him — or anyone — to the point of leaving me, then I’m probably better off alone. But sometimes that’s a truth I’d rather try to control than face head-on.
Most of the time, the reason I don’t share my letters with T. is because I need my own room. I have a tendency to prioritize my partner’s opinions over my own. I care what my partner thinks, and I know that sometimes I’ll choose to shrink without even realizing it. I’ve kept Unsupervised to myself because I know my letters deserve all of me — not the version of me who is aware of being perceived by a boyfriend. I’m still learning to reconcile the two.
Despite how transparent I was about the impact my hormones have on my relationship, it didn’t occur to me that this particular letter might be an exception to my standard privacy protocol. But when many of you thanked me for writing a digestible testimony that you shared with your partners, I reconsidered my position.
“The way I cried and then sent quotes from my boyfriend,” wrote a reader named
. “I read this out loud to my husband after realizing this is the most relatable thing I’ve read about periods and said “it’s not just me.” Thank you.” wrote another reader, .I often focus on simply telling my story, regardless of who will read it. But sometimes getting a story in front of the right person is just as important as the story itself. What good is it for everybody to see my blueprint, except for the man I share my bed with? What am I trying to prove? Who am I pretending to be?
I decided to send the letter to T. Your comments emboldened me to reveal more of myself to a reader I wanted but didn’t yet have. I realized that even if he was put off by what I had written, you gave me something that could never be taken away: the confirmation that it’s not just me who feels born from the underworld from time to time.
Before I shared the letter, I spent a day imagining the possible scenarios of T. reading it. I interrogated the motives behind my unexpected craving to be seen, I phoned a friend, and then I gauged T.’s interest and got his consent.
“I emailed you the link,” I texted. “Maybe u can read it today? Prob a 15 min endeavor total.”
“yes maam, I will most certainly read,” he replied.
Dear reader, I like to write about my life in the company of strangers. I feel comfortable being slightly removed, with a few degrees of anonymity. But strangely, I’ve come to find that being seen by you makes me feel safer in taking up more space with the people who see me in the flesh every day. They say the internet does more harm than good. Lately, I’m not so sure.
Love,
Anna
I always look forward to reading your letter
-a man who lives in Jerusalem
this was so interesting to me to hear another perspective on the topic of sharing writing with our partners. as someone who has always had their partner read so much of my work before anyone else does, this really has me examining my intentions around that in a way i haven’t before. i really resonated with the idea of space, to writing without the element of how it will be perceived by those within arms reach. i also feel how tender it is to share something vulnerable too. so as always, a heartfelt thank you for this 💜