Thankful for you, Dear reader

There’s something you don’t know about me.

“Not possible,” I hear you say. “You’ve shared so much during all of our years together.”

That’s certainly true. There has been a significant amount of sharing, perhaps even oversharing, in this space over the last dozen years.

Yet, with everything I’ve spilled on these pages, I bet you don’t know that this column started as a big fat failure. Well, the column didn’t fail. I did.

The idea was pretty simple. The amazing editor of this section gave me the assignment of writing a column about overcoming obstacles.

I don’t remember the exact story I sent in. I do remember that she hated it. It wasn’t so much the story itself, rather the way that I wrote it. My style was pretty straightforward.

The editor sent it back with the note. “This is an article. I have plenty of those. I need a column, something with your take, your opinion, how a certain story touched you, even if it is about you.”

My gag reflex went into overdrive. Write about myself ? Give my opinion? Make myself the story? As hard as it might be for some to believe, this is not how traditional journalists are raised.

We can have the “fake news” conversation another day.

Today, I will tell you this was not a style I was comfortable writing in.

Ultimately, I came to realize this column is not about me. It’s about you, Dear Reader. About us, about this life stuff we share. The details of the actual experiences might differ, but the feelings and challenges are often the same.

I share this to say I can’t let this season of gratitude go by without letting you know how thankful I am for you.

For the way you patiently let me morph from reporter to columnist, the way you’ve shared my journey from single person to wife to mother. You were there when I lost my own mother.

I am so thankful for our weekly conversations. That is how I see this space — a conversation. It begins in my head, where I very much hear your voice. Your thoughts often spill over to the email that you take time to send me.

All these years later, I’m grateful for the rhythm we’ve figured out together.

I also share to say it’s possible this holiday season is feeling like a failure. You ruined the mashed potatoes. You’re not with the one you love. You haven’t met the one you love. That’s alright.

It doesn’t have to be the end of the story.

You get another chance to get this right.

You’ve taught me the grace of giving and getting another chance.

I believe in that.

Of course, you already knew that about me.

Happy Thanksgiving, Dear Reader.

I’m so very thankful for you.

Ultimately, I came to realize this column is not about me. It’s about you, Dear Reader. About us, about this life stuff we share.