There’s a scruffy, multi-stage bar just outside of Chicago where I go to hear quality music. With low ticket prices and easier parking (usually) than in the city, the cool venue offers wide ranges of rock, blues, folk, and more almost every night of the week. But one day per month, five or six storytellers get on stage to share personal tales inspired by the night’s theme song. Inspired by the stories, a local rock diva follows each storyteller with an “impromptu” song. Each show varies from bawdy laughter to tearful tenderness, from soulful wisdom to silly wisecracks, always with a healthy dose of rock ‘n’ roll.

I found out about this monthly event accidently, through an online social group focused on women reinventing themselves. While our supportive gatherings were totally unrelated to music, storytelling, and writing, one of the attendees suggested we go.

I had no idea I would stumble into a new way to stretch old muscles—my shelved acting degree—and my burgeoning writing.

The first time I attended, my eyes, ears, and heart lit up with appreciation and intrigue. I knew I’d be on that stage and soon.

Two months later—and multiple times since—I shook with stage fright getting on that stage. I admit, without any shame, to needing a special little pill to calm my jitters. Still, the thrill of performing again has struck such a resonant chord in me that I’m both frightened and desirous of doing it again, and again, and again. Something cathartic has happened in the effort, reminding me of who I’d once planned to be, the person I lost to expectation, responsibilities, and fear. I’ve even felt outright joy in the process, even if I’m happily relieved when I step off the stage. Whew!

I’ve decided to post the stories I write for this show under Storytelling. I might even figure out how to video my performances for posting. No promises though. As much as I’m working on reinventing myself, and my weight, and getting rid of the shame related to my weight, I’m still not totally comfortable with how I look. But I’m working on it. With each story I write, each time I perform live, I’m a step closer to accepting who I am…even if I still stumble along the way.