Do Read the Comments

The fascinating and uplifting comments section at Another Jane Pratt Thing on my latest essay is getting me through this week

Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash

First, my final essay of 2025 is titled “I Am My Kid’s Mom And I Like When You Call Me That” and you can read it at Another Jane Pratt Thing.

It’s a response to a viral Thread I read about a mom resenting being called “Mom,” with no acknowledgment of her name, at the pediatrician’s office and elsewhere. I wrote it in a flurry Monday morning and it published late Monday afternoon, which was record time in my writing career.

I have many end-of-year posts I wrote to all of you in my head, or in my notes: Best (Worst?) Mistakes of 2025, What I’m Most Proud of in 2025, The Best Books I Read in 2025. It’s now a little after 2 a.m. on December 31 and what I’m about to share isn’t along any of those lines, because yesterday was one of the hardest days of my life. There’s no time or need for details now, but to say it was emotionally grueling is an understatement.

I got home and ate a huge and delicious farro and tofu harvest bowl my boyfriend had brought home on Monday and it felt like a true culinary gift. Sometimes I crave comfort food like grilled cheese and French fries when I’m going through something challenging, but just as often I crave healthy, nourishing food.

So I fell asleep soon after eating that and woke up and because I’m a jumble of emotions I’m “treating” myself to not going back to sleep immediately even though I know I should, and I will shortly.

But first I wanted to sing the praises of Jane Pratt, editor extraordinaire of Another Jane Pratt Thing. I’ve long admired and looked up to her, and have gotten to know her a little this year via interviewing her at the personal storytelling summit Open Secrets Live I organized and, even more so, in the comments of AJPT. The comments there are like an internet oasis of quirky, smart, interesting people. It’s a little exclusive because usually comments and reading full posts are only open to paid subscribers, though you can do a free 7-day trial and comment during that time and then cancel, or pay $8/month or $80/year, which sounds like a lot, but I see it as not just a magazine subscription, but a mini community.

Please note that nobody asked me to write this. I’m doing so because when I woke up a little before 2 and was sad, that’s where I went. Yes, it’s an ego boost to see 100 comments beneath my name there (albeit knowing probably 1/4 of those are me replying to people), but even more so, there are fascinating discussions going on.

I won’t try to summarize them because my essay is actually free to read so you can go read it and follow the comments yourself. I really just wanted to chime in and say that when you have menopause insomnia and are having a hard night, it’s lovely to follow along with an ongoing discussion that my essay helped foster, but that really was just the smallest spark, a leaping off point with spinoffs upon spinoffs.

Happy New Year, and I’m wishing all of you peace, happiness, and lots of great reading (and writing if that’s your jam too!).