Like a lot of people entering the era known as middle age, I began to search for ways to reclaim the bits of myself that had been lost to early parenthood. Mothering, though still very much a part of my life, looks different as my kids have aged. They no longer need me in the same ways they did when they were little. This has left me with time to remember that there is a person inside of me with a name and identity that existed before children. I decided that I wanted to explore different ways of spending this newfound free time. I wanted something creative and interesting, something that pushed me out of my comfort zone and challenged my brain in different ways.
I thought about crocheting or knitting, bought a couple of embroidery starter kits, tried my hand at mixed media journaling, and invested in the most professional sketchbooks and charcoals out there. Alas, everywhere I turn, corners of my house are now filled with projects not yet started and journals not yet opened. I was looking for something, but none of these were it.
I ran into a friend at a school event for our kids and she told me about these amazing classes she was taking at the Storytelling Institute. I had heard about the Institute a while back but never really had the time to take any classes but here it was again, popping back up on my radar. Days after, our conversation was still on my mind and I decided to look deeper into it.
A few months later, I took the plunge and signed up for a storytelling class. Every Thursday night I left my family to their own devices and I sat with men and women, different ages, different backgrounds, different worlds and listened to stories. I even told a few of my own. I fell in love. My stories were imperfect and clumsy but somehow they were exactly what I needed. I found the outlet I was looking for and didn’t look back.
I’m now about halfway done with the classes I need for my full storytelling certificate. Over the past year, I’ve received invitations to tell throughout the valley. Friends and classmates met at coffee houses, public gardens, museums and festivals to tell stories to the public. Each time I declined the invitation, saying I was busy and already booked. While that was mostly true, if I’m being completely honest, I was terrified. I wasn’t ready. It’s one thing to tell my stories in a classroom with other storytelling students. It’s another thing altogether to tell to strangers who have expectations of me that I haven’t even met myself. “Next time,” I told them. “Next time,” I told myself.
A month back, an invitation appeared in my email inbox, the chance to tell at a local arts festival just outside of Phoenix. Like all the times before, I told everyone that I couldn’t make it. We had a ton of family stuff going on and April is a crazy hectic month. In truth, my kids were busy with their own activities and didn’t need me at all. There really was no reason at all for me to stay home. Maybe I should go to the festival?
In a spurt of courage, I told my professor that I was free. She put my name on the list and it was done. No backing out now. I was going to tell my first story to the public. Just like a real storyteller. Gulp.
My first story was told in a little gallery on a little street in a little town. The audience was gracious and attentive, laughing at all the right spots and clapping when I finished. The hurdle was behind me and it was not nearly as daunting as I’d built it up to be. I drove home late that afternoon feeling so damn proud of myself, I couldn’t stand it. It was official. I was a storyteller.
I feel a little silly that it took me as long as it did to tell, but if there is anything I’ve learned about storytelling, it’s that stories are told when they’re ready to be told. I guess this one was just waiting for me to be ready. I’m glad I finally listened.
I plan on telling lots more stories, as many as people want to hear, and maybe even a few they don’t want. Because that’s what storytellers do.
(The picture at the top shows Kate on the right in the white shirt at the Miami Loco Arts Festival on April 13, 2025.)
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