The Night I Finally Felt Like an Author

I wrote this Sunday June 22nd:

Last night, something shifted in me.

I hosted my first Zoom book reading — just me, four women, and the words I wrote from the deepest places of my heart. I was nervous. I almost let fear talk me out of it. But I didn’t. I showed up anyway.

And I’m so glad I did.

Each of these women has played a part in my story — friends from different seasons of life who made time to be present with me. They listened. They reflected. They held space for the poems that have lived inside me for so long. Together, we created something sacred.

We connected.

They told me how the words moved them — especially a poem called "State Your Claim", and another about infant loss, reminding women that they are still worthy, still whole, still mothers — no matter how brief the life they carried. Their stories, their openness, their love — it meant everything to me.

And for the first time, I felt it.

I felt like an author.

Not because I was in front of a crowd. Not because there was fanfare or press or applause.

But because I stood in my truth.

Because I shared my voice — out loud.

Because I allowed myself to be seen.

To the women who showed up for me — thank you. Thank you for your presence, your kindness, your feedback, your vulnerability. Thank you for reminding me that small circles are powerful too. That healing can happen in the quiet. That this work matters.

I don’t want to brush this off and move on like I usually do. I want to hold this feeling. I want to sit with the pride, the peace, the gratitude. I did something that scared me — and it turned into something beautiful.

To anyone reading this: if you’ve been holding back on something because you’re waiting for it to feel “big enough” or perfect or more polished… I invite you to begin anyway.

Start with who you have.

Start with what you’ve written.

Start with the truth of your voice.

You never know the healing it may hold.

💚

Mahogany