Music Keeps the Memories Alive

We used to hang out on the steps in front of the FNAC or the church across the street, clad in different shades of black, black lace and combat boots, waiting for something to happen. Time never seemed to be a rushed back then, boredom a given, but just sitting and waiting was a normal pastime. Waiting for a new album or a new show to be announced, a new person to walk by and capture our attention, a new adventure to pop up. We would nonchalantly complain about how nothing ever happened in our city, about plans to form a world-famous band, and about the best way to get drunk, but always from our church step pulpit, a stop on the way to other stops. No one had cell phones, so the church or FNAC steps were the meeting points. One by one we would gather there after school, rummage through the CDs at the store wondering if we should really spend our little money on the one album with the one song we knew we liked, or save it up for the next big thing? Or should we just club together and buy some hash and smoke it in the park?

Adolescence is a mess, but it contained a real sense of belonging for me too. A bunch of outcasts together on the same plane, taking steps together before the next turning. Music brought us together initially, and then we moved on towards a bigger sense of friendship and love. Some relationships turned sour, some bonded stronger than others, some people left, disappeared, others joined us, a little hesitantly at first, and then became part of us. Us: together, against the boredom, the normalcy, the day in day out trappings of life. Now we are all spread out all over the world, families and new homes, new loves, old flames, friends forever, and friends no more. Sometimes during a conversation over the phone or email or messenger or in person a name will pop up and we will wonder what happened to him or her. Remember that one friend who came out and we just said “oh cool, good for you!”? That must have been so hard for him in such a tough crowd of metallers, and I’m sure he was shunned by some, but it never surprised me or my close friends. I wonder what became of him? Or the girl who said she was a psychic witch with her emerald green eyes that hid so much fear? Did she end up having the child and living a normal life away from the big city and all of the evils that it contained? Or the one with all the violent and extreme “ideals”, did he simmer down or lose himself in hatred? We may have all been in the same mosh pit together or stagedived from the same death metal stage, but that doesn’t mean we all were the same, or even agreed with each other. With life comes certain realizations and we all move in different directions, towards different ideals and dreams.

Many of us are still connected though, through mile long ties and strings that refuse to break despite time and distance and life. We reminisce about days gone by, chat about the present and the future over food and drinks and through the invisible wires of the internet. Months, sometimes years, go by without a proper conversation, but time doesn’t change much, just adds a few more wrinkles and takes away a few more brain cells. These people all had a role in helping me become who I am today, sitting in the same classroom, smoking the same cigarettes, drinking the same beers, and listening to the same music. If you think metal and rock are just brutal noise then think again, it brings people together as tightly as any other music. We needed the brutality and the beauty behind it to convey our fears and misunderstandings and angst. Some got trapped, some were released. For some it was just a phase, and for some of us the music was life and we still get excited about certain bands, and love new ones. We are now the adults in the crowd, the ones we used to look at and say “that’s us in a million years time”.

Do you remember L’Entrepôt, le Rail Théâtre, le Lion, l’Exca, le Champollion? Do you remember le Jardin des Plantes and le Star Rock Café? Piling into a room together, smoking cigarettes and listening to Emperor and Burzum, Kurt Cobain on the walls, Alice in Chains in the cassette player? Do you remember rolling down hills at the Bastille, The Cure playing in your ears from your walkman, drinking wine at Berlioz, and headbanging to Metallica at L’Usine? Randomly hanging out with Oasis at the Drac Ouest, and playing football with Impaled Nazarene in the backyard of the Rail Theatre. Hanging out of car windows, drunk, while coming down from the mountains at 3am, not a care in the world, no fears, just happiness, that elated feeling of being on top of the world with your best friends. So many memories, so many concert tickets and stories and photos stuck into old journals, trapped away in little drawers in my memory.

There are bands I don’t listen to anymore, bands that served a purpose during adolescence, like Cannibal Corpse or Deicide, and others that I will never, ever stop listening to, like The Cure or Slayer. And you know what? This music has brought me together with people in all places that I have visited and lived in… A common interest found here and there, and it was even the basis of my first conversation with my partner, the love of my life. Music creates the strongest bonds and memories and I will always be grateful for the ones that it has created for me… Kurt, Layne, Lemmy, Bowie (and so many others), you may not be here anymore, but you did way more than just make music. And that goes to all of you who are still here, still creating, still inspiring. You may be dark and you may be morbid, but you still make our lives just that little bit better.

Nostalgia tends to fuel me and my writing, I know, but I often wonder for how long these memories will be so vivid, and I worry that one day they will fade away into some kind of oblivion. Music and writing them down keeps them alive.

I've always taken many, many photos, and scanned some of the negatives in a while back. There are many, many more to do, but if you were there, you might be HERE.

A Shot of 2006

As I am working on my next book I have been coming across written and half-written essays, moments suspended in time, and scribbled notes in journals, often opening boxes of memories and feelings. This one will most likely find itself in the book in some shape or form... It reminds me of many people and nights. 

There are certain sounds that transport me right back there, like Julian Casablanca’s' voice for example, I can smell the dry ice, taste the ice cold vodka that never had a chance to melt. I can feel the sweat on my neck, rooting around my bag looking for elastic to tie my hair up with. Dance dance dance amidst everyone, friends, acquaintances, random people, together and alone, drunk and high.

Friday night Darkroom. Friday night Annex. Saturday day hangover. Saturday evening Darkroom. Saturday evening Motorcity. Saturday evening Misshapes. Saturday evening Annex. Sunday morning somewhere. Home? Maybe. Elsewhere? Possibly.

Those days were so innocent; there was a lot of laughter and fun and some responsibility, lots of words unspoken and some fear bolstered by Stoli. We all fit in, fit in together, little groups of people, friends, moving in the same circles, some crossover, nods hello, hugs, sharing, bitchy looks, drunken tears, hook ups, nights that went on and on in bar basements.

Monday, drinks. Tuesday off? Wednesday Darkroom after Sidewalk. Thursday Motorcity. Back to Friday again. Sleep was one of those things you could do when you were dead. Skinny jeans and heels and biker boots and black tops. Pad Thai delivered from the place across the street on Sixth Avenue, cheese enchiladas from the Hat, sandwiches and cigarettes and beer and Gatorade and coffee and chips delivered from the deli on Bleecker to my teeny tiny studio where my bed fills my room.

I don't miss those days but they are days that should be written about. Days where I would stand next to one of my favorite musicians in a dark bar and just smile and walk away, afraid to say anything and appear anything other than aloof and fabulous, trying not to hyperventilate while lighting a cigarette in a corner to calm my nerves. Sitting on the wall of shame outside Darkroom watching the world, Ludlow St, go by night after night, breathing in the air around me, wondering how I had ended up in the most perfect place at the most perfect time and thanking my lucky stars for aligning when they did.

It was a time when we didn't face our demons we just ran with them. A time when we just wanted to dance and to sweat and to sleep around, a time where we all pretended we weren't looking for anything more, where we tiptoed around feelings and love and hatred and fear, where the music brought us together and where sex and drugs and alcohol ripped us apart inside. It was all fun and games, laughter and shots, innocence and pretense. Walls were built high, high and knocked down brick by brick. I let some people in and others let me in, friendships were built through the haze of all of the fake smiles and bright eyes. We bumped into each other so often in the same places, we ended up having real conversations leading to brunches and dinners and heartfelt talks. We talked about life and love and fears. We listened to music, always the music, we tried new restaurants and venues, pretending we were bored of the "old" ones, but heading right back "home" after an hour, finding comfort in routine, even if we pretended we didn't.

How many days and nights did we waste running after things we would never catch? How many nights spent swimming in booze and sweat, how many days alternating between wishing we had just stayed in and wishing that we didn't need to live a life during the day.

The best days, the worst days. Dancing on a table or a bar, no cares in the world, shots, another round of shots, I need more than this, no I don't this is perfect, this is now.

Ten years ago, a decade from the innocence, old enough to know better, young enough to know that we would make it through ok, at some point. I close my eyes and I see a sparkling darkness, a road well trodden, at least 6 pairs of boots worn down on that street, stomping up and down. 2006 was happiness and elation, there were no bad days then, it was a long chain of days strung together where everything felt right and friendly and interesting and fun. Sometimes I pulled myself back to the fringes, not interested in stepping into the abyss that appeared sometimes. No need to dip my toes, I liked dancing around the borders, butterfly wings light and fragile holding me away from the pull.

There was a lot of love around at that time. A lot of scared young adults who needed each other but didn't want to say so. NYC is a big dark city if you don't find your place and I found mine. It will always be there on Ludlow Street, a stomping shadow moving from bar to venue to restaurant to bar again. A city of moving pieces where everything changes, but where your spot never goes away, a beacon in my memories, a highlight of every story.

High Needs Child Series: Trust Your Instincts, Trust Your Child

This week's beautiful words come from a good friend of mine, Ryvenna. Ryvenna was due a few months before me with her daughter in 2014, and through-out our pregnancies and way into motherhood her texts and messages would help me feel a little less alone during sleepless nights and endless days. She is one of the most patient, generous and authentic people that I know and it really makes me happy to publish her story. 

When I wake up in the morning, it’s often because my nipples are aching. With my two and a half year old still nursing and often switching from side to side every few minutes in the hour before she wakes, I rarely wake because I’ve slept enough. Eventually, her eyes will open but she’ll keep nursing as I pet her fair hair, curls slightly damp from a sweaty night’s sleep. My bladder will finally announce that it’s time to get up, and I tell her I need to use the bathroom, waiting for the first words she tells me most mornings, a predictable, “Up, up!” Resisting is futile, because frankly, I can’t be bothered to deal with a meltdown ten minutes after I’ve opened my eyes, and before I’m really fully awake myself. So my 99th percentile toddler gets scooped up in my arms, and we head off to the bathroom together. I pee holding her, and most mornings she grudgingly, laughingly accepts that I will not let her nurse while I pee. 

On the weekends, my husband will manage to occasionally bribe her with some fruit snacks and a cartoon to let me sleep for an additional half an hour. I know that half an hour later, I’ll wake to her frustrated cries as he tries to convince her to let me keep sleeping, so I rarely manage to get back to bed. I’ve been tired since I was in my second trimester. At coming up on three years old, my daughter has never “slept through the night”. She’s usually asleep by nine pm, and will wake between midnight at two to nurse, again sometime before she’s in the “waking” phase, and then will drift between breasts for her last hour, usually waking fully before seven. 

I don’t love the term “high needs”. I think of myself as a gentle parent who adapts to my daughter’s needs. A sensitive mama. But when I see mothers who are able to carry quiet infants around in a carseat, letting them calmly look around while they enjoy a long lunch in a restaurant, I don’t identify with their experience. My daughter nursed around the clock, needed to be worn in a Moby wrap, and would not sleep on her own. I remember obsessively reading “Back to Sleep” literature about babies needing to sleep on their own, solid surfaces on their backs. My daughter slept on my chest or my husband’s for the first four months. I remember about two hours in three chunk where I managed to get her resting in the Arm’s Reach cosleeper I’d purchased for her while I was pregnant. I texted my sister, I danced in my living room, and then realized that it wasn’t going to work. I could get two hours of sleep with her on top of me, or half an hour (after two solid hours of failed attempts) with her in the cosleeper. So we moved our mattress to the floor with our side up against the wall, removed my pillows and sheet and blanket, and I made do with socks and sweatpants in bed for the first year. After that, I reintroduced a blanket around my waist and a light pillow. When she turned two I let a fluffier pillow back into my life, and let myself wrap a blanket around her waist as well. She sleeps most of the night with her head on my arm, and I leave the room, I still keep the baby monitor on because I know she’ll wake shortly without me there.

My daughter is distracted by my grandmother, my sister, or my husband from time to time, but her unwavering focus directs like a laser beam onto me for the vast majority of the time. When she senses that I’m trying to let Dada run the show for a minute, she immediately rejects him, pushing him off the couch and telling him that he can’t play with us. You can practically hear the sound of my husband’s heart breaking every time. He took lower-paying jobs for the first two years of her life so that he could work from home to be near her. His lunch breaks were spent on snuggling her down for naps as she kicked and screamed, fighting sleep. If I’m not around, they’re the best of friends.
In the last month, I’ve been able to plop her in front of the TV in the morning for long enough to take a shower. Not long enough to also throw some makeup on my face, but it’s enough for now. Two months ago, each shower was a tear-filled event with her begging me to pick her up, to nurse her, to watch a show with her, to play with her, to do anything other than leave her side for the fifteen minutes it takes to lather my hair and shave my legs in steamy water. I resorted more than once to reapplying deodorant, running dry shampoo through my hair, and spraying on a layer of body oil so that I could dry shave. I could probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve been able to poop in privacy in her lifetime. 

I’ve gotten a lot of judgement over this. If you don’t set boundaries now, she’ll walk all over you for the rest of your life. You’re spoiling her by indulging her like this. She has to know who’s in charge. But I know my daughter. I know that pushing her toward something when she’s not ready doesn’t work. She has an innate sense of what she needs, and she knows how to ask for it. And I know how to give it to her 95 times out of a 100. I do try to explain is that adapting to a high-needs child is not the same as giving in to every demand. It’s about knowing when to pick your battles. Her emotional needs are very real, and they are not wants. They are needs. She is still nursed, we cosleep, I carry her often. Because without these physical connections, her emotional needs are not being met. 

Her emotional landscape paints her perspective of the world. Many of her conversations revolve around the way she feels, and they are often the first things she wants to discuss in a recollection of her day. “I cried this morning because I was sad when you wanted me to put my shoes on the other feet” is not an unusual thing to hear from her. Neither is “I think about you all day when you’re gone, Mama”. She is able to understand emotional nuance that I find startling in a two year old. She offers to care for those around her when they say they’re sick or in pain. She initiates telling people that she loves them and enjoys their company.
Indulging a need for physical connection does not lead to a spoiled child. At two and a half, my daughter is articulate and polite, caring, and concerned. That said, she’s still a toddler. Occasionally, I’ll still get her coming up to me, grabbing at my shirt, and an obnoxious, “Nurse!” Most of the time, pointing out that isn’t the most polite way to ask will elicit another, nicer ask. When it doesn’t, I ask her where her beautiful manners went, and we explore the inside of her mouth, giggling, until I miraculously discover them, reposition them so that she can once again access them, and she happily uses the manners we both know she possesses. She helps set the table, has running jokes with the adults around her, tells me she loves “family dinner”, and feeds the cats.

What I will tell you, if you’re reading this while holding your high-needs baby, is good luck. Not sarcastically, but lovingly. Good luck, because I needed it. High needs babies do not suddenly become easygoing toddlers. I have shown up to events two hours late, and bailed at the last minute, and avoided making plans entirely with parents who have a different parenting experience than I do. Those folks who can just throw their kid in the car and show up to pretty much anything on time? We don’t have a ton in common. That said, on nights when I need to stay late at work for a Board meeting, she goes down okay with my husband. We’re finally starting to get in date nights, since we recently moved closer to my sister who is the Toddler Whisperer and can also get her down. When we need her to adapt, she often surprises us with how easily she can do so. 
I doubted myself a lot. It’s hard to ignore people telling you to let them cry it out, make them walk, force them to potty-train, or wean them before either one of you is ready. But I learned quickly that I could trust my child. She’s not making it up when she says she needs me, and she wasn’t “manipulating” me when she couldn’t sleep without being held as an infant. When I tried something that didn’t work for her, I learned that adapting to something that did (with a good amount of trial and error) was always the best solution. I didn’t have a lot of friends to reach out to commiserate with on tough days when I was trying to enforce a useless sleep schedule and it (literally) took me three hours to get my then one year old to sleep at night. But we got there. It got easier in stages as she became more verbal. It got easier once we realized that giving her space to deal with her emotions while remaining calm helped. We work, together, on taking deep breaths when she’s  upset, and on asking her if she wants to talk, or needs a hug. 

I don’t think I need to tell you that I love my daughter. That she’s the center of my universe. That she and I are pals in a way that I didn’t realize you could be with a toddler. But just in case you needed to know, I wouldn’t change a thing about her. There will come a time when I will not nurse her to sleep, when she will not want me to carry her, when I don’t wake up with the scent of her warm, toddler body filling my nose. And if she always wants to cuddle up to read a book or watch a movie together? I’m down with that. 

And kiddo, if someday you read this on whatever version of the Internet exists when you’re old enough to care about parenting advice… I love you “to the moon and to the back”. You weren’t an easy little one to parent, but you were totally awesome.

Thought Forms - Upcoming New Release!

It’s no secret that I adore Thought Forms and just love everything they do. I’ve seen them evolve over the years and while they have never left the signature Thought Forms sound behind, each release is an adventure, a new path and direction as well as a sea of new sounds and stories. Each and every Thought Forms track contains layers of sound that you can peel back one after another, and even after multiple listens you can always find something new to uncover.

On November 2nd, their third full length album, Songs About Drowning will be released on Invada, and I can’t wait! Joined by Jim Barr on bass and with stunning artwork by Chris Reeder, this album is going to just simply be amazing. In the meantime you can hear the first single from the album, Forget My Name, right here.

Thought Forms will be going on an extensive European tour with 65daysofstatic this autumn, and will be supporting Bob Mould on a few UK dates over the next week. They have a PledgeMusic campaign going on right now to help with tour financing and you can pre-order the album in different formats, as well as loads of other fun things. I would honestly much rather pay the band directly anyway, so I think this is an awesome set-up!  Check out their PledgeMusic page here.

If you have never taken the time to listen to Thought Forms I suggest you do right now as you are really in for a treat!

Thought Forms Official Website

Thought Forms Facebook Page

Recent interview with Charlie Romijn

Photo by Philipp Morozov

Immigration Series: Henna from the Heart

Here is Henna's story straight from the heart. Daughter of Indian immigrants, growing up Punjabi and American, navigating through the mix cultures and finding herself right there, right in the middle of it. Actually this isn't really Henna's story, as she talks about her father, but really it is. You will understand what I mean after you have read it... (And if you don't like curse words then I suggest you move along, as Henna loves to curse and there is no way I am editing her writing because it shoots straight from the fucking heart).

Before I dive into the topic of immigration, my story, and my father, I want to remind everyone that in the end of our lives we do not take this body with us, so to fear someone based on their appearance, their religion, or sexual orientation is just plain fucking stupid. People I want to remind you that when we die all this shit stays behind. Your hair, your eyes, your art, and the trees that surround you. They are all fucking staying here when you die. Oh God I sound dark again. Quite frankly, I’m just trying to make a point. I shit rainbows I swear. I also take pictures of pretty flowers all the time. Anyways, my point is that we are not immortal, so do you want to spend this life fearing and hating what you don't know or do you want to dive into it and grow from it?

There is a lot of fear and hate that surrounds the topic of immigration. Hate’s mother is fear. Fears births hate. It’s really that simple.

The Mexicans are taking my jobs.

There are too many black people.

The Indians are taking over IT.

The Asians are taking over our neighborhood.

I don’t like her hijab.

She sounds like a redneck.

I bet they have small dicks.

Why are they here?

These are all sentences with an undertone of fear or hate. You wanna know what my response is to these motherfuckers?

GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK. IF YOU WANT TO DO SOMETHING THEN FUCKING DO IT. STOP BLAMING OTHER PEOPLE FOR YOUR LACK OF SUCCESS. WORK FUCKING HARDER. STOP COMPLAINING. WHY ARE YOU ALLOWING HATE TO HAVE A PLACE IN YOUR LIFE? LOVE BABY LOVE!! THIS IS YOUR LIFE. FILL YOUR SPIRIT WITH ALL THAT IS AMAZING IN THIS WORLD.  STOP FOCUSING ON OTHERS. WHY DO YOUR CARE SO MUCH ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE? IS IT HARMING YOU? WHAT? YOU JUST DON’T LIKE? BABY YOU’RE WASTING PRECIOUS MOMENTS OF YOUR LIFE HATING THINGS FOR NO REASON. LIVE THIS LIFE AND FUCK IT LIKE YOU WOULD THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE. IF YOU DON’T HAVE ONE THEN PRETEND. I LOVE HUMANITY AND THEREFORE I LOVE YOU TOO. YEAH I DON’T KNOW YOU, BUT WE’RE HERE IN THIS WORLD TOGETHER, SO LETS JUST ENJOY AND LEARN TOGETHER.

BESOS, AMIGOS.

… OK maybe I wouldn't say the besos part, but everything else I would. Yeah I’m being blunt. Maybe I just wrote a really long rant, but my intentions are for the love of humanity.

Oh fuck, right my story!! Sorry readers. I’m a little scatter brained. I also confuse my left and rights all the time. Last night I took a cab from Manhattan to Brooklyn and I kept messing up my left and rights. As you can imagine my driver wanted to murder me. Is there a term for people who fuck up their left and rights all the time? Oh fuck. I did it again.

Ok Immigration. My story. Let’s get into that. I’m an American Citizen. I don't have a crazy immigration story. Actually you know what? Let’s talk about me in another blog post. This shit is getting long. I've got mad emotions and opinions and stories people.

I want to talk about my father right now. Let me tell you about him. My daddy is an immigration lawyer and is one of the most inspiring, charismatic, and giving people I know. My father came to this country after marrying my mother. So mom put a marriage advertisement in the Indian newspaper and after all the men who responded my father was the one who stole her heart. I’m going to be honest with you. My mother was vain as fuck. She thought he was the best looking guy after all the guys she met. I mean she did mention that he also came off as good person too, but I know my mommy. She thought he was hot. Great for baby making.

Dad went to law school. Passed the bar exam on his first try and then opened up his own practice within 5 years of just being in America. Dad did it. He made it in America. Then he got famous. Dad had commercials for his law firm playing constantly on ZeeTV (An Indian television channel). Man, when dad would come on TV I would light up. I was 7, but I was proud to be his daughter. The commercials aren't there today, but he still has an advertisement in the Indian newspaper. He has for over 20 years now. If I mention my father’s name to any cab driver of Indian descent they know immediately who he is. My father has given people the opportunity to freedom and a better life. He is a man who came from poverty and has never forgotten his roots. This man never makes a trip to India without giving back to his people. He sends money for his relatives to give to people on the streets of India. If one poverty stricken child wants ice cream then he’ll buy everyone ice cream. If another girl says I don't want ice cream I want flour, so I can make roti, then he’s going to buy over 30 bags of flour for the beggars on the street. By the way this is a true fucking story.

I could talk about my father for hours and tell you all the amazing things this immigrant has done, but it’s time for me to conclude. Freedom is everyone’s right. Everyone should have an opportunity for love, family, and even all the fuck-ups that come with life because not everything bad is bad and not everything good is good. In the end we learn from the good and bad. Who are we to deny anyone of these good and bad experiences?

The definition of humanitarian is:

1. Having concern for or helping to improve the welfare and happiness of people

2. Pertaining to the saving of human lives or to the alleviation of suffering

3. A person actively engaged in promoting human welfare and social reforms

If we all had the heart of a humanitarian then immigration wouldn't be so scary.

A chat with the inspiring Jenny from Mamazou

It dawned on me again this morning how many inspiring people I have in my life and how lucky I am to have crossed paths with all of these people. Jenny Raymond is one of these inspiring women that I have had the pleasure to "bump into" online. Motherhood is not easy, and can often be a little isolating; sometimes you can be surrounded by people and still feel like no one understands you. Instead of just grinning and bearing it, or complaining about it to her journal (me), she decided to actually DO something about it, and has since created a fantastic social hub online for both parents and parents to be, Mamazou. 

I became aware of Mamazou earlier this year when I finally started appreciating Instagram more than I had in the past. Jenny's posts always seemed so inspiring and friendly, and when she started her #mamazoufeatures series, featuring articles from different people on all kinds of subjects every week, I decided to join in. Since then, and via Mamazou, I have been introduced to a wonderful, and continuously growing, group of women and men, who are all in the same boat as me. It was hard for me to leave my cocoon and safety net of NYC, and thanks to all of these people, and mainly Jenny, I feel connected, understood, and listened to again. There really is nothing like having a supportive community you can count on to hold you up, make you laugh, and tell you off if needed.

Jenny is one of the kindest and friendliest people I know, and she agreed to answer some questions about herself and Mamazou for From the Inside.  

From the Inside: How did Mamazou come about? What pushed you to create this awesome spot for parents?

Jenny Raymond: When I was pregnant, I became so overwhelmed with the information Google had to offer and it sparked even more questions than I was originally searching.  I wanted to talk to people (that I didn’t know) about pregnancy and being a parent and found that the forums I signed up to were judgmental.  I then decided it would be pretty cool if I could create something of my own where people could talk openly, freely and safely.

How do you see Mamazou evolving over the next six months to a year?

I see it going from strength to strength.  There are so many paths that it could go down and so many wonderful companies that I’m starting to collaborate with.  Things are becoming very exciting.  I can’t reveal too much at the moment but watch this space.  We’re constantly working on things to try and improve Mamazou and give our users the best experience possible.

For me personally the Mamazou community has been a blessing and I am always amazed at how kind and caring you are. How do you personally navigate the constant “mummy wars” that people seem to be instigating on every imaginable parenting subject?

Thank you so much – that’s so kind of you to say!  I don’t have time for any nastiness.  If people are going to be bitchy to one another then they’re not welcome and their account will be suspended.  I have no tolerance for it.  There’s so much of that in the world, I’m all about celebrating every journey through life and supporting one another.  It’s all about #perfectlyimperfectparenting

You are based in the UK but seem to attract people from all over the world. How do you go about this?

I’m actually not so sure – they say your vibe attracts your tribe so I’ll go with that.  I wanted to tackle the US market first as they’re bigger than the UK.  Once I started with that… I thought the more that live in different countries, the better. 

Tell us more about your #mamazoufeatures

This is relatively new but as we’re a community all about supporting others, I wanted to create something specifically for bloggers (and recently companies) to get their voice out more.  To be able to share something that’s on their mind but broaden their target audience at the same time. 

Who and/or what do you count as inspirations?

My daughter, Hayley.  It’s so clichéd but she’s the reason I get out of bed every morning and in her almost 3 short years of life she has taught me SO much.  My actions will always influence her so I make sure that I’m the best version of myself, so that one day, maybe, she will be inspired by me.

My father is another huge inspiration to me.  He has always done his best to provide my siblings and I with the best upbringing possible and has worked so hard in order to do so.  He’s so incredibly inspirational.

Can you tell us what your favourite social media platform is and why?

I have to say Mamazou :D not that I’m biased or anything.  It’s a wonderful and supportive community full of so many down to earth parents.  Following that, Instagram!

You can check out the awesomeness that is Mamazou right here, and also on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter and Pinterest. And if you feel like chatting to some wonderful people, reading some great insights, learning about all types of new and exciting products and just joining in, you can sign up on the homepage of the website!

Photo by Eskimo*Rose Photography @eskimorose_photography

Interview with Lynn Doak, Holistic Fertility Coach

Today my focus will be on another wonderful friend, woman and all around inspiration to me, Lynn Doak. Lynn and I "met" via a message board many, many years ago, and luckily, even though at that point I was always traveling all over the place, ended up not too far from each other when I lived in London (she was in Belfast). We have many a tale from London and New York City, and basically grew through our 20's and 30's together. Lynn has always been a real go-getter in my eyes, never settling for anything until she is 100% content with it. She has worked amazingly hard to create her own business, I remember when she was working a full-time "day" job and then studying and working at night, and it makes me so happy to see that not only does she now own her own thriving business but that she is constantly pushing herself to branch out and help others on their journeys. I interviewed Lynn recently to learn more about her fertility coaching practice and to understand what she does. It's been wonderful to watch her business grow and I loved talking about her practice and her plans for the future with her. Please read ahead for more information and for the links to her website and business! Thank you Lynn for taking the time to not only answer my questions, but to also provide interesting and informative answers! 

From the Inside: Please describe your current business for us!

Lynn Doak: I own Devata Wellbeing Spa in Northern Ireland.  We provide a range of holistic and spa treatments to men and women, however our fertility and pregnancy treatments have become more and more popular over the past few years and I have branched out into working solely with women for fertility and pregnancy – while my two amazing staff look after the general treatments.

FTI: First of all, how did Devata come into existence?

LD: I first became interested in holistic therapies about 15 years ago when I faced a health challenge of my own – it wasn’t particularly bad – but I was diagnosed with psoriatic arthritis in my feet in my 20s and spent a few months finding it very difficult to walk.  I remember the doctor wanted to put me on Methotrexate (which is a very serious drug that is used for cancer patients but is also used to routinely treat psoriasis!!).  Fortunately I researched it and saw the list of side effects – everything from needing monthly chest scans, to infertility to death!  So I decided to pass on the drugs.  And someone suggested I try reflexology.  Well after a few sessions of that, combined with reading Louise L Hay’s - You can Heal Your Life and saying daily affirmations that my feet were healthy – I was able to walk again, and have neverhad any of the symptoms reoccur!  I immediately knew I wanted to train as a Reflexologist, and that spiraled me on the path which not only changed my health, but my total outlook on life – it changed my life! 

As I began to work with people of all ages, and all different types of conditions, it became clear to me that many minor health problems could be improved by natural therapies and dietary changes.  It became my goal to educate people that there were natural alternatives out there. 

FTI:  How did you move towards becoming a holistic fertility coach? Why have you separated these services from Devata?

LD: It happened organically, by a lot of women coming to me for reflexology because they’d heard it was good if trying to get pregnant.  I had a lot of pregnancy success stories in the early days, before I even knew anything about fertility – the reflexology alone worked for many of them!  But then as the word of mouth spread, I began to see more and more women with more fertility issues, and unfortunately the reflexology alone didn’t seem to work for them.  So I began researching everything I could on natural fertility, I took more courses including the Arvigo Techniques of Maya Abdominal Therapy, Reproductive Reflexology, Health Coaching and more recently I have added the mind-body approach which has been HUGELY successful.  I use a wonderful emotional energy healing technique which enables us to access the subconscious mind and find out the root cause of any imbalance and release any trapped emotions from the body. It’s really interesting because a lot of women who have had miscarriages, abortions, previous traumatic births or even issues with their own birth or mothers have a lot of emotions trapped in their reproductive organs.  I also use simple self-hypnosis and deep meditation to help reprogram the mind.

FTI: What type of services do you provide?

LD: In my 12 week fertility program, I use a combination of Arvigo Therapy, Reproductive Reflexology, health coaching, Emotion code, and hypnosis/visualisations. 

FTI: Do you have any compelling/interesting stories to tell?

LD: My goal has always been to empower women to trust in their body.  And often, all that’s needed is some small changes to their lifestyle, their mindset and/or a little bit of patience.

What frustrates me is how most doctors seem to give the opposite advice.  They want to rush them into medical treatment, they rarely talk to them about their health or lifestyle and more often than not, they leave them feeling hopeless. Thankfully a lot of the women I work with have been able to prove doctors wrong.  One of them even went back to the fertility doctor who told her she had too much structural damage to ever get pregnant naturally, when she got pregnant just to tell him he was wrong.  Needless to say he was red-faced and even tried to back track on what he had said.

In particular women over 35 have it the hardest.  Doctors tell them their eggs are old, or they’re running out of eggs and they should go straight to IVF.  I have seen numerous cases of women 35+ and 40+ who have got pregnant naturally.  This is why it’s important to do the mind-body work – because we need to reprogram the mind from all this negative nonsense.   We have had years of articles and well meaning relatives telling us we better get a move on, because after you hit 35 it’s all downhill….blah blah…when actually if we can change the way we think about this, if we can learn how to nourish our bodies, and to visualize pregnancy success, it CAN happen.  Now I’m not saying this is easy, or that it happens overnight (although I have a had quite a few women get pregnant after one or two sessions) but there is an element of patience required. 

Women over 35 are encouraged to seek medical help after 6 months of trying to get pregnant and I can understand this is because if they need medically assisted treatment, its best not to delay it.  But in the cases of healthy women, who are ovulating regularly and there is no medical reason for not getting pregnant i.e. “unexplained infertility”, then its usually just a case of it’s taking longer than they hoped, or they have a few nutritional deficiencies to fix, or a few emotional issues to clear.

I’ve also worked with women with PCOS and Endometriosis who have gone on to get pregnant.  Again, this takes time.  With PCOS usually the problem is that the cycles are so irregular that it’s difficult to pinpoint ovulation, so it takes a lot of regular sex.  But I have seen women with 70-80 day cycles get pregnant with persistence!  With endometriosis, the abdominal massage really helps to break down any scar tissue and get the blood flowing again, but it can take up to 6 months of regular massage, and unfortunately a lot of women get frustrated and think its not working, and they don’t come for long enough.

FTI: Where do you see yourself going in the next 5 years?

LD: Well I am currently developing an online Holistic fertility program so I can help women from all over the world.  I am excited to go deeper into mind-body approach to fertility and I will be offering these techniques over Skype so I can work with anyone, anywhere. 

I also plan to teach more Hypnobirthing classes this year, and would like to develop an online program in that too.  Its certainly not that I don’t enjoy working in person with women – I will always continue to do that – but we are fortunate to live in an age where we can create our own schedules, and work from wherever.  In the early days of a business its difficult to do that, because you feel like you can’t turn down any business, and that you need to re-arrange your schedule to suit your clients.  Well, I’ve worked very hard over the last 10 years, so now its time for me to create my own schedule, and spend more time with my own family.

FTI: Who do you treat?

LD: I mostly work with women in their mid 30s to early 40s and I see most fertility conditions present – unexplained infertility, secondary infertility, male infertility, endometriosis, PCOS, fibroids etc.

Recently I’ve noticed a lot more younger women coming for fertility help too, in their late 20s and early 30s.  I really hope that’s not indicative of fertility declining in younger women too, but with all the toxic chemicals that are around in our homes, in our skincare, in our food, it wouldn’t surprise me if this became a bigger issue in the future.  That’s why it’s my mission to educate women of all ages about developing a more natural lifestyle, using natural products and eating real food.

FTI: Would you also be interested in adding doula work to your current business model? Pre and postpartum.

LD: Honestly, I wouldn’t have the time to dedicate to doula work.  My fertility clients are often booked 3 months in advance, and with doula work I assume you would have to be on call for 2-3 weeks and be able to drop everything at short notice to attend a birth.  I have a bit too much going on to be able to do that.  But its something I think you would be great at Jade! ;)

(FTI: It is something that I have been considering, along with being a lactation counselor, but I will revisit it in a year or so when I feel that we are all a bit more settled down!).

You can visit Lynn's website here, check out her Facebook page here and also check out Devata's offerings here!

Ramblings with Charlie Romijn

A few years ago I started interviewing women who inspired me to showcase on my blog, as well as a separate feature on women in rock, and I interviewed Charlie for both of those features. Life got in the way as it does and I didn’t publish anything. Earlier this year I decided to get back on track again, creating an ongoing series featuring people who inspire me, starting with Simay’s essay, Dara’s interview and just recently Henna’s piece. I have more coming over the next few weeks, but today is for Charlie Romijn from Thought Forms.

I’ve written about Thought Forms several times over the years, a band I have seen move, evolve and grow and who have always managed to rip my heart apart and sew it back together with their music. Thought Forms are Charlie Romijn, Deej Dhariwal and Guy Metcalfe, hail from England, and I consider all of them to be part of my close group of friends. Charlie and I go way, way back, and jokingly consider each other “sisters from another mister”, and have always felt that we can talk about anything together, even if we live thousands of miles apart in different countries. She is of the most inspiring people I know, and not just musically, her ability to have an idea and actually do something with it is amazing. She is constantly creating, whether she knows it or not. She gracefully answered a few questions for me that you can read below, and I encourage you to check out some of her work, whether it be music, art or poetry.

From the Inside: What type of music do you play?

Charlie: I’m in a band called Thought Forms, which has evolved over the years from mostly instrumental post-rock style improvisation based compositions through drone rock, grungy-doom-gaze to whatever it is we’re doing now… Songs about drowning.

The solo stuff I’ve done up until this point, under the name Silver Stairs Of Ketchikan (after the Richard Brautigan poem) has all been improvisational.

Can you describe your influences in a few words?

Some musical influences that spring to mind right at this moment in time are Pulp, Nick Cave, Get The Blessing, Melanie De Biasio, Sonic Youth, Portishead, PJ Harvey. Because of words, space, intensity, growth, transportation through sound and trust.

Who is your main woman in rock influence?

There are so many amazing women who have inspired and influenced me over the years but I guess I’d have to say Kim Gordon. Sonic Youth were such an important band to me, I loved the juxtaposition of the perfect pop songs and the experimental free noise - absolute freedom. Kim is such a multi-faceted talent; music, art, writing, fashion… and such a formidable energy onstage. The first time I saw them play, I was fifteen. She thrust the microphone into my face during Kool Thing and let me sing… That was it for me.

How did you start playing music? What made you pick up an instrument and start playing?

My dad got me my first guitar when I was eight years old.

He’d recently bought himself one from the TradeIt for £50 and we used to sit in his bedroom and record covers of blues songs together, me singing “Hoochie Coochie Man” and playing bad harmonica over his chords.

He gave me a 3/4 size nylon string of my own, presumably to keep my sticky fingers away from his instruments (a rule he still implements today) and I started to take lessons at school and teach myself Beatles songs at home from a simple chord book.

By twelve, I’d started listening to bands like Nirvana… Watching videos of them performing got me so excited, I wanted to do what they were doing and make people feel what I was feeling.

So, thanks to Dad once again, I ended up with my first electric guitar, started writing songs and formed a band at school.

Have there ever been moments that you have wanted to give up but kept going?

Often. It’s normal I think… Especially when you’re working so closely with other people who you’re SO entwined with, it’s impossible not to feel that way sometimes.

Those internet memes about the ‘creative process’ are very true.

I don’t know. There are definitely moments when I doubt everything and wonder what the fuck I’m doing and panic about the fact that I have no actual skills, but then I remember all the amazing experiences I’ve had because I’ve done exactly what I had to and taken the opportunities that have come my way, and I wouldn’t change anything.

 How are you treated by men when they find out you are a musician? Any good or bad stories that others may relate to?

I’ve got plenty of negative tales from over the years, I wouldn’t even know where to start…

The good stories aren’t stories because that’s the way it should be.

How do you feel about music and politics/causes/rebellion as one entity?  Do you feel that both go hand in hand or do you prefer to keep them separate?

I think they definitely can and do go hand in hand… Thought I don’t believe that anything, political or personal, has to be overtly obvious to another person for it to be there.  For me, the music I make is deeply and directly connected to who I am and that encompasses everything. For some people, playing music in itself can be an act of rebellion.

Do you feel that you are/could become a spokesperson for women in the music industry?

I don’t feel like I’m qualified to (or would want to) speak for anyone else, I can only speak from my own experiences.

Do you relate to any specific music trend/movement more than others?

I don’t think so. Certainly I’ve found that as I’ve gotten older, all the music I’ve ever loved has stayed with me, so I guess the music I relate to will keep growing…

Where do you see yourself in 5 years time? Anything specific you would like to accomplish before then?

I want to come back to play in America. We want to go to Japan! We just really want to play as much as possible in as many places as possible…

To continue to create and grow together and individually, keep making music and art, meeting beautiful people, seeing new places, eating new food!

Just making the most of life.

Do you have a best and worst memory of being on tour?

I love touring. Getting to travel and see new places with my best friends, playing music every night… Even the things that are frustrating at the time (like being stuck in traffic for 14 hours straight, getting robbed, being lost in France in the middle of the night with nowhere to stay) seem kind of funny with rose-tinted hindsight. 

There was one Thought Forms tour that I think we’d all consider the worst and none of us would care to repeat - don’t get me wrong, we enjoyed playing, but the other bands on the tour made it very clear that they didn’t want us there and were really rude and unfriendly the whole time… They were unprofessional too, turned up late to every show, took forever to set up and soundcheck and to top it off their music wasn’t exactly our cup of tea. There were no redeeming features. But I think we’d just always been really lucky prior to that, mostly playing alongside lovely, talented artists who it’s a joy to listen to each night.

Too many best memories from tours… Watching a full moon rise over ten thousand people as we played in Montreal, swimming in Lake Geneva after Montreux Jazz Festival, performing in a Roman amphitheatre on the 10th anniversary of our first ever gig and less dramatically but just as brilliant, a hilarious car journey to Leicester, just the four of us having a laugh.

We’ve been so lucky to have the experiences we’ve shared.

Can you tell me more about your record label and what you look for in the music that you release?

Since 2009 I’ve been releasing music on my own ‘label’ called Lava Thief.

I started it just as a means of releasing some of our other projects - Solar Flares, Silver Stairs Of Ketchikan, Deej’s solo albums - but ended up expanding beyond the Thought Forms family and putting out some great stuff, the most recent of which is Lava Thief’s first vinyl release, the second album by a band from Bristol called ‘Repo Man’.

I don’t really ever look out for stuff to release, but when something like that comes along… I was so excited by it, they have something really special and I wanted to share it with the world!

You have many artistic projects on the go at any given time. What are you working on right now?

I’m currently working on a Thought Forms album which is in its final stages…

Aside from that, I’m working on more visual stuff and I have a couple of writing projects on the go.

Thought Forms' next album will be released later this year on Invada Records. You can check out their previous releases and tons of other information about the band on their website here as well as their Facebook page here. 

The photographer taking a picture of the artist taking a picture of the photographer

An empty Hammerstein Ballroom before the doors opened. It was a sold out show. I can't even imagine the emotions of playing in front of so many people!

NO FEAR: Reflections After a Year

I asked Henna to write a guest post on From the Inside a while ago, and she decided to write about losing her mother, one year along. Henna and I have known each other for quite a few years now, going from coworkers to very close friends, watching each other grow in different ways and take on different responsibilities. Henna's absolute love of life, people and freedom is so engaging and her warmth and passion for everything she takes on are formidable. Losing a parent is never easy, I can attest to that, and Henna and her family watched their mother fight that evil disease known as cancer for many, many years. This is Henna's letter to us all about love, loss and freedom, and I hope that we can all take a little of it and keep it close to our hearts. RIP Amarjit Kaur Chawala, I hope your new playground is larger and easier than the last one.

There are moments that I’ve missed and then there are moments that have ignited me. Moments where I was afraid and moments where I said fuck it. And many moments where I literally told everyone and anyone I love you. Why? Because honestly, when you lose a mother at 23 the value of life becomes very transparent. You learn that we are all not here forever.  And that we choose how we live and all our realities are the ones that we create and agree to be a part of.

Losing a mother alters the world around you immediately. Now your surroundings are a jungle. Now I must survive because mommy is not here to hold my hand. Yes, I have dad, but we know that it’s not the same. I can’t bitch about how big my boobs got last summer to daddy. I mean I could, but I’d prefer not to.

 In the days that I’ve missed holding Mom’s hand I have cried a lot. I’ve had many walks home from work where I couldn't stop crying. It’s easier to cry in the dark. No one can see you. Oh God, that was a dark statement. I swear I’m a really funny person. I just cry sometimes. I’m human and humans cry, you know? I think crying is critical to the human experience. Like honestly, how do I know I love you if I can’t cry about you? If I can’t cry about you then I probably fucking hate you. JK JK JK. SMILY EMOJI WITH TEETH. This is just a dark topic. I’ve got to somehow make this tragic shit funny.

Anyways, the funny thing about death is that it doesn't stop time even though it initially feels that way. Death is a pause for the person not here anymore. I say pause because I don’t think mom has gone. I just think the universe has taken her to another place to play. Mom always said that the purpose of life was to play and that this world is our playground.

Mom was a wise woman, but she was always plagued with restriction, worried thoughts, and fear of judgment. She wouldn't allow herself be free and watching her die at 55 with all these fears was heartbreaking. Mom was afraid. She was afraid of death. She was afraid of the unfamiliar. I’ve had many nights where I thought her fear killed her. When people are afraid there are a limited amount of windows where light can shine through and remind them that it’s not that serious and that everything will be ok. I knew there weren't that many windows around Mom and holding her hand felt like the best way to reassure her and bring her some light.

In the last year, I’ve spent many moments dissecting fear and what this word means because in the beginning I was afraid. Afraid of possibly losing my father. Afraid of confessing my pain. Afraid of my future. Afraid of letting people see me. Afraid of being a good older sister. Afraid to even cry.

I had to let go of my anxieties. I discovered that the heart of anxiety is fear. That the only way to turn it off was to say the words ‘I am not afraid’. This sentence turns on all the lightbulbs and suddenly, I know that I am in the right place in the right time in my life. My trust grows and my faith in the universe expands every time I say these words. I can say I’ve become a much calmer person now and this is because I am not afraid.

Hi, my name is Henna like the tattoo and I'm confessing my freedom. In this last year I’ve probably taken too many risks, done a lot of stupid things, kissed a lot of dumb men, but I regret none of it. I don't regret my journey to my personal freedom. So yeah bitches, now I'm fearless and fucking my playground real good. I would recommend that anyone reading this do the same. Just play real hard everyone. It’s worth it. And for all those you see caged in the fear come at them with love because that will be the beginning of their freedom. 

You can find Henna on Instagram and on Facebook, and also probably running around the streets of NYC somewhere, chasing an adventure.

Henna today, looking much more like her mother than she realises.

Ramblings: My Clan

Ever since I became a mother I have come across articles and social media posts where women talk about finding their “tribe”. For a while, during those first few months of motherhood, feeling so insecure and alone, I wondered if I was supposed to find my own tribe; maybe one would miraculously appear in my life, surround me with warmth and hugs and reassuring phrases, telling me that I would be OK. Motherhood came easily to me, the love, the nurturing, the happiness, but adapting to all of the changes was a little harder. I would continue to read about women describing their tribe, see beautiful pictures on social media of women and their friends, all their children playing together happily and hope that one day I could do the same.

And then suddenly I realised… This “tribe” I was thinking of is no other than my best friends. I already have my tribe; there was no need to find a new one. Just because certain things shift when you have a child (or two in my case), doesn’t mean that everything changes. Sometimes you just need to crawl through the fog to realize this. Just because you become a mother doesn’t automatically mean you need to find a group of “mummy friends”. You will make some along the way, most certainly, but those who have been with you through thick and thin still “get” you, or they do in my case anyway!

I’ve lived in many places, travelled to many countries, settled and then uprooted myself time and time again, and in every place I have left a group of friends behind. Some friends are there for life, an intricate bond that cannot be broken by time or distance, others are friends for a time, and with distance you lose touch. Some friends appear out of the blue and stay there for life; some come and go, weaving in and out of your path. Hearts are broken and sometimes healed again, friends are forgiven and forgotten; friends forgive and move on. Friendship is a give and take and there are always those where the give and the take are easy and seamless, and then there are others where it demands work, sometimes too much. I’ve always been a little wary of female friendships, having been burnt in the past by people, but those that I have really let in have my heart forever.

There is the one who became a mother at the same time as me, our children rolling, crawling and walking together. The one who knew I wasn’t exaggerating when I said that I hadn’t slept in three months. We would nurse our children for hours on the couch for hours, chatting about life, motherhood, or just bathing in silence. She is one who I can talk to at any time of the day or the night, who would come visit us in our apartment in Queens and bring treats and who I now miss terribly since we moved across the country.

There is the one who I met in a bar all those years ago and who I call my best friend. We’ve been through so much together and through so much separately. We have traveled through time together, angered each other, unintentionally hurt each other, held each other and laughed through too many wonderful, silly and exciting moments. She is still the first person I tell anything to, the one person who I know will always have a proper opinion or advice on something that I am struggling with and who will always write the best cards, be they for me or my children. Cards that I save and cherish. And she also happens to be the most wonderful baby shower organizer.

There is the one who I worked with, so much younger than me, but at times so much older than her years. A real free spirit, never to be held down by anything, that beautiful smile always raining down on you, making you feel so important and worthy. She will come crashing into your life like a bolt of lightning and wraps you in her relentless energy, ready to jump into any adventure that you are planning. She’s the one I want to nurture and protect but at the same time need to let fly free as she has everything to discover and no boundaries will stop her. She was my Sunday afternoon partner, bringing food and stories, while let her rest her weary feet before her next adventure into the unknown. My little fiery wild child, so similar to myself at her age, but with all of the confidence that I lacked.

There are the two ladies who were my friends way before I was a mother, and mothers way before I even imagined having a child. At one point we were all thousands of miles apart, but that didn’t stop them giving me advice and comfort when I needed it. One of them has the knack of calling whenever I most need to chat, and always making me feel like I am not going insane, and that everything is completely normal.

There are my Irish and English beauties, and even though we haven’t lived on the same continent for well over a decade, we still communicate regularly, see each other when we can and support each other in our endeavours. We’ve known each other at our best and at our worst, we’ve partied together and been sober together, drank tea and eaten brunch, watched each other grow and shine and move forward and sometimes backwards. Sister from another mister and best friend, all three of us “met” online and became friends in person all those years ago.

Then there are the ladies that I have befriended through my writing and my thoughts, the kind and helpful ladies, the ones that encourage each other to persevere with their work and creativity, who always seem to appear when the going gets tough and you hit a wall. Kind of like an online cheerleading team, but one that cheers each other on, constantly. I never really feel alone anymore, even at 3am when everyone is sleeping and those silly thoughts of failure kick in.

And last, but not least, my sister, the one whose head I tried to pull off when she was a baby, whose obsession with Elvis lasted until well into adulthood and with whom I can have the most epic arguments and still talk to as if nothing happened five minutes later. I don’t always believe that you have to be friends with your family no matter what, but I do believe in my sister as much as she believes in me. I hope that my girls will be able to love each other as much as we do.

My tribe, my “family”, those people who never let you go, even when you push them away, and in return, who you will never let go either. I think back to those days when I thought I was supposed to do it alone, sitting there nursing endlessly through the night, wishing I had someone to talk to, and then feeling silly in the morning. I always had someone to talk to; my tribe was always there for me, just as I am always there for them. I had to learn that it was OK to reach out and say “I need you”. No one is really superwoman, but we are all superwomen together.