A new chapter on Substack: Unpack Real Mother Fuckers
A new chapter on Substack: Unpack Real Mother Fuckers
Our pod has had badass guests, let's get to know them more! + meet my co-host Vanessa Anderson
On (American) Mother’s Day, my friend and I launched a podcast.
It’s called Real Mother Fuckers.
As you can tell by the name, we aren’t here to sugar coat stories. Our mission is simple: let real moms share their real stories.
In the first several episodes, my co-host Vanessa Anderson and I explored topics that were tough for us to say out loud. We said the hard things because we know there’s a mom out there that could relate. Like exposing the realities of sex after birth and the state of our malleable bodies post-babies (one of us experienced a 3rd degree tear, ouch x10000). Or what it’s like to find ourselves in the throes of trying to diminish patterns and traumas passed down from our parents. Or revealing the identity crisis we feel after becoming mothers.
Then we started interviewing others, to unpack the many faces of parenting because our teeny tiny perspective is just that. The two of us speaking were a drop in a bucket — what else is happening in the ocean we call motherhood?
In 6 months, we interviewed on Real Mother Fuckers
A mom whose daughter received a heart transplant at age 4 and, shortly after, watched her husband nearly die with a heart attack and stroke
A mom who was excited to talk about her son’s birth story, who was stillborn at 38 weeks
A mother who advocated for her son’s autism diagnosis, and later realized she’s also autistic
A sober lawyer on how she created her baby with her female partner
A woman who was fostered and adopted as a baby
A firefighter and mom of 3
An author who comedically wrote about her postpartum depression
A maternal mental health advocate, who experienced postpartum- depression, anxiety, PTSD and OCD that nearly turned to postpartum psychosis
A teen mom
A sex, intimacy and relationship expert
And more…
An offshoot to my “Unpacking” newsletter, this section is dedicated to getting to know my podcast guests more deeply. As hosts, we get to speak to our guests for 1 hour, which seems too short to understand their complexity, their intelligence, and the whole beings that they are.
I realized I carry these women with me, still steeped in their stories even though we’ve already published their episodes and moved onto interviewing others.
It dawned on me that I need to share more about who they are with you. I guess I’m not done with knowing their stories. Have you seen our guest list?! You can’t deny we’ve explored fascinating stories and backgrounds. We have interviews with dads coming, too.
“Unpack Real Mother Fuckers” will feature my podcast guests in various forms: as guest posts, Q&As, tips, and commentary from me.
What better way to start this section than to feature my co-host?
Vanessa wanted to start a podcast for years and she asked me if I’d like to do this with her. My first feeling was “absolutely not. nope.” The idea of speaking in public makes me want to puke.
Maybe the stars were aligned or good juju was in the air. She caught me at a good time because I said yes, with hesitance but excited for the possibilities. Unlike much of the decisions I’ve made as an adult, I went with my heart this time — not my gut. Remember I said public speaking makes me want to vomit?!
Thanks to Vanessa, I’ve done a lot of things out of my comfort zone.
Vanessa has given me the gift of holding space for multiple points of view. She nudged me to take my butt to yoga class instead of only doing it virtually at home. Because of her questionably high amount of stamina, I push myself more when things get uncomfortable, within reason. (Burnout is real, folks.)
In honor of trying things that make me uncomfortable, I’ve decided to write in a new-to-me genre. Poetry.
Here’s a poem about my friend, a fellow mom, a teacher, the ultimate DIYer, my co-host and business partner, Vanessa Anderson.
running upward
like a salmon swimming upstream, she takes the high road.
a woman of brute force, who opts for the heavier load, often on a route unknown
to flex her strength of inner beauty, she takes risks. nothing she can’t fix.
raw skills and savvy, you cannot peg her for any one stereotype.
she carves her own path, lifting rocks and shoveling earth in nature so ripe
to carry the load,
in love mode
a life she stitched and sewed.
the hill she climbs is steep though within reach, she pushes herself and others
enough to know your limits but not to make you feel smothered.
a creator. a teacher. a maker. never a faker. have you seen her face when she has a notion?
she tells you how it is in her head, in her heart. but she’ll bend with open ears and emotions
to hear you out.
to give you space when you’re lost in a crowd.
even though she’s loud,
the mother listens. let’s her children glisten.
she built a home from scratch. she’s funny as hell, that snatch.
hammered through each cedar board. solid as brick home, no wolf can blow.
tough as nails, values on a tight grip. morals soft as lavender tips. don’t you know
there’s no one way to be a badass bitch. with her friend, she’s out to find more
who share the title of mother, creator, protector
to intently listen to their stories, many of them sound like running upward
but releasing their truth is exposing a thorn on a rose, the delicateness of a flower.
here’s to all the women we’ve spoken to; together we move onward and forward.
