Yowei ShawHost
The email was from a woman named Kaitlyn Meyer, a poet, memoirist, and essayist who'd lived with the company of her inner narrator all her life, until one day it disappeared, along with her ability to write.

I imagine for a long time when people asked you to introduce yourself in these kinds of interviews, would you say-
But yeah, over the last few years, I do feel this drop into the pit of my stomach when I say it because it doesn't feel completely true

If I saw her in a lineup, I'd be like, "She's an artist." Caitlin told me she spent decades teaching herself how to write, learning to listen to the voice in her head.

She left her husband, she got rid of her apartment, went part-time at her translation job, just enough for food, rent, plane tickets, and she started wandering.

The intention was to go places she didn't know anyone, where she didn't speak the language, so she'd be forced to be alone and focus on her writing.
I'd stay for the length of a tourist visa wherever I went, and that was about the right amount of time because I'd start to get sucked into a social scene, and then it was time to go.
And it was wonderful because when I was partnered, every time I was partnered with a man, they were jealous of the time that I spent writing.

I started reading Caitlin's writing for this story, and it is really fucking good.

She writes about escaping traditional womanhood in ways that don't feel preachy but make me feel like another way is possible.

The email was from a woman named Kaitlyn Meyer, a poet, memoirist, and essayist who'd lived with the company of her inner narrator all her life, until one day it disappeared, along with her ability to write.

I imagine for a long time when people asked you to introduce yourself in these kinds of interviews, would you say-
But yeah, over the last few years, I do feel this drop into the pit of my stomach when I say it because it doesn't feel completely true

If I saw her in a lineup, I'd be like, "She's an artist." Caitlin told me she spent decades teaching herself how to write, learning to listen to the voice in her head.

She left her husband, she got rid of her apartment, went part-time at her translation job, just enough for food, rent, plane tickets, and she started wandering.

The intention was to go places she didn't know anyone, where she didn't speak the language, so she'd be forced to be alone and focus on her writing.
I'd stay for the length of a tourist visa wherever I went, and that was about the right amount of time because I'd start to get sucked into a social scene, and then it was time to go.
And it was wonderful because when I was partnered, every time I was partnered with a man, they were jealous of the time that I spent writing.

I started reading Caitlin's writing for this story, and it is really fucking good.

She writes about escaping traditional womanhood in ways that don't feel preachy but make me feel like another way is possible.
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