Notes, poop jokes, and permission to be me

On quitting, restarting, and remembering I don’t have to be perfect to take the mic

Welcome back to Behind the Mic — raw reflections from a writing coach, author, and event producer who believes everyone has something worth sharing.

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Photo by annie pm on Unsplash

After blanking out during my comedy debut at the top of April, I figured I’d torched my chances of being invited to do stand-up again. (Did you see the debut and flub in last month’s long-letter? Did ya? Did ya? Eh? Eh?)

Messing up was actually my favorite part, and I didn’t get up there to launch a career or anything — but a tiny part of me secretly hoped to be discovered. Like, Amy Schumer calls, I open for her at Red Rocks kind of discovered.

So after forgetting my lines, grabbing my notes, dropping said notes, and then not even being able to find my place on those notes…I figured I was a goner.

But a few weeks later…

Local comedian and generous human Philip Ogren invited me to be part of a show at a bookstore in Niwot. (Not exactly a sold-out amphitheater with my girl Amy, buuuut probably more my speed.)

Even though I was so tired at the time my BONES hurt, I said yes. I figured, Surely by May 29, I’ll feel like myself again.

But with each passing day, life felt heavier and heavier. At one point, I told David I was ready to hit pause on everything. Even Moms on the Mic. He encouraged me to keep MOTM going, but gently suggested taking comedy off my plate. Because honestly? It was stressing me out. Not because I didn’t want to do it, but because I thought I had to be perfect. I had so much fun writing my new jokes (all about my stool sample and parasite, of course!) but the pressure to memorize a fresh set felt impossible.

When I told Philip I couldn’t do it anymore, he was incredibly kind. He reminded me how low-stakes the show really was — just 25ish people in a 300-square-foot bookshop. He said I could do two minutes or ten, decide at the last minute, and even use notes if I wanted to.

USE NOTES?? IN A SHOW???

His response felt like such a gift. It let me exhale. It reminded me I didn’t have to be polished to show up.

While I wasn’t a firm “yes” yet, I decided to keep the door open for a while. I also decided to finally start taking testosterone. I was nervous to put hormones in my body — especially after going to the dark side on my brief stint with a fertility doc in 2018. But after nearly passing out whilst picking weeds and cooking dinner and being so fatigued I thought I was dying, something had to give.

And GIVE it did.

Maybe it was a placebo effect, but within minutes of squeezing that first tiny, waxy, vanilla-flavored square between my cheek and gum, LIFE seeped into me. After just a few days, my energy started returning. Hope crept back in. Things started to feel possible again.

So I wrote Philip: “I’m back in.”

At first, I planned to play it safe and just do my old set again. But this past Sunday, I watched a guest pastor deliver an unpolished, vulnerable, and beautiful sermon.

For the first time in my life, I saw a man — who hadn’t preached for a decade — stand in front of a congregation and admit that he didn’t know what he was going to say. As he spoke about painful moments and seasons in his life, he teared up — not once, but thrice — and sniffled through his words while chewing GUM.

He was breaking all the rules and definitely all over the place, but he held my attention the entire time and gripped my heart because he was REAL.

Towards the end, as he talked about how suffering matters, that Jesus is waiting to meet us there, and how you can’t experience change, goodness, or refinement without PAIN, he said:

Please allow yourself to be human.
And to feel. And to not have it all together.

This all reminded me that perfection is not the point.

Connection is.
Presence is.
Joy is.

So, tomorrow night (May 29), I’ll be breaking the rules, as well.

I’ll be doing an all-new, barely-memorized set with notes in hand and probably crying at the beginning as I thank Philip for letting me be me. There will be poop jokes. There will be parasite jokes. There WON’T be polish. But there will be connection, laughter, and so much gratitude.

If you want to witness this beautiful trainwreck, get your cute butt to middle-of-nowhere Niwot tomorrow, yeah? Did I tell you it’s FREE?

Just gotta RSVP.

Wheeeeee!

Otherwise, you know I’ll tell you more than you’ve ever wanted to know about it (and my bowels) in my next digital novel, er, newsletter.

Long, awkward hugs,

P.S. There are only EIGHTEEN SEATS LEFT for Moms on the Mic on October 23.

Between a wild presale and reserved seats for sponsors, things are locking in faster than expected! For all the deets on attending, speaking, and/or partnering, click this beauty:

P.P.S. The DBP Society is welcoming new members!

Short for Done is Better than Perfect, this super chill writing community is for women who want to write more but not stress about it being polished…yet. This group is meant to give you confidence, clarity, and community.

We have weekly prompts via email, a private FB group, and a casual Zoom hang once a month. No pressure to keep up with EVERYTHING. You can pop in and out as it works for you. Some folks are working on books or newsletters, others are just getting back into writing or starting for the very first time.

Every prompt basically nudges you to set a timer for 10 minutes and see what comes out. You can follow the guided prompt or follow your heart in another direction. You’ll be surprised at what you can do in 10 minutes…and how sometimes it’s just the act of starting that is the hardest. Then, once you’re in and moving, you’ll probably want to write a little more!

You’re welcome to join us ANY time, but if you’d rather not be the only “new kid,” this is the perfect time to try it…for FREE! For a MONTH! No credit card required upfront.

You can get way more details here, but if you’re even remotely interested, reply to this email and I’ll get you rockin’ and writin’, baby!