bekah brunstetter
Bekah Brunstetter I care deeply. About a lot of things. Like really, really deep. Ow
playwright in brooklyn, NY

What I need to Hear

July 8th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

Yesterday, a Sunday morning:

  • I wake up, feeling a need to go to church and be quiet and reflective and pray
  • I Go to church
  • Okay, yes, I get there a few minutes late, but I take my program humbly, receptively, sneak in through the back door
  • I WALK RIGHT IN MID-DEDICATION OF BABIES
  • (For the non-church going readers: this is when new parents bring their babies on stage and dedicate themselves, as parents, to raising their Baby in the church, and the pastor blesses the baby, and the baby pretends to answers questions and all of the childless mothers of Gilead in the sanctuary turn to brownie batter and melt out of their seats and die)
  • I consider TURNING THE OTHER WAY AND RUNNING OUT OF THE CHURCH, and being quite noisy about it on purpose, maybe slamming through some doors, so that everyone knows my pain, and then sits there, putting two and two together
  • I decide, instead, to quietly, respectfully take a seat towards the back and cry quietly, respectfully while the babies are dedicated
  • I Listen to the Pastor as he tells the congregation that this couple in particular prayed and prayed for their daughter Rose; that she was a gift, not an assumption
  • I realize how badly I needed to hear this
  • I sit there, quietly, hearing everything else I needed to hear

Posted in a lot, faith, ha, hmmmmm, the future, the making of babies, the whole world, the worst, whining, women | No Comments »

I talk, he listens, I don’t

June 30th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

I think I don’t even listen to myself when I talk. I’m just sort of whirring around the house, doing 900 things, thinking some things, saying some of them out loud, and Morrison takes the most ridiculous and most important things and writes them down in the notes section of his phone, WHICH IS WHY I got this amazing flowing robe shirt thing for my birthday:

because at some point in the last year while stomping through the house declaring and straightening things, I said I NEED A FLOWING ROBE SHIRT  probably followed by DID WE CALL THE PERSON ABOUT THE THING and DID YOU READ ABOUT THE OTHER THING and HAVE WE DECIDED WHEN WE WERE DOING THAT? Please note his note-taking diligence is ALSO why we forever know that one point I actually said to him, ‘Let’s not mince hairs.’

Posted in a lot, i am lucky, MAWWAGE., what I'm wearing, women, words, working, worrying | No Comments »

Quick Check-in with World

June 28th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

When I’m developing a play or musical, I tend to stick my head up its butt and ignore the tense and divisive and sometimes horrible things happening in the world, which is both blessing and curse. There’s a part of me that wants to not get bogged down by these things so I can work — and then there’s another part of that knows that these things matter, that they can’t be ignored, that they must inform whatever I’m working on. I must disconnect from the world in order to work, but not so much that I don’t understand it anymore. I’ll just keep hovering here between those two extreme feelings, but in the meantime, a quick check in with World:

  • Harris and Warren debated real Good, I’m stoked on them, NOT JUST BECAUSE THEY TOOK A PRE-GAME SELFIE.
  • All people, ESPECIALLY CHILDREN, deserve dignity, empathy, and care, REGARDLESS OF THE ACTIONS OF THEIR PARENTS.
  • I KNOW THE SYSTEM ISN’T DESIGNED TO HANDLE SO MANY CHILDREN BUT SERIOUSLY. PRIORITIZE IT. FIGURE IT OUT.
  • KAMIE AND LIZ CAN YOU FIGURE IT OUT PLZ

 

Posted in a lot, politics, the writing of drama plays, women, worrying | No Comments »

Father’s Day, or WOMEN FOREVER

June 16th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

| artist cred Farjana Sultana. |

Unrelated to Father’s Day (HAPPY FATHER’S DAY DAD! LOVE YOU! etc etc etc) I just saw a really stunning woman, I’d say in her early 70s, really alive and kind, the kind of person who’s voice you can always hear from across the room, and she was straight up unapologetically rocking her double mastectomy. She seemed so happy to be alive, and it was like breasts were friends she used to have in grad school, that she got rid of years ago because they were toxic, and sometimes she thinks about them but really, who needs them, because there’s so much now, in her life, and it made me wonder — if men had to cut their penises  off in order to live, would, I mean really, WOULD THEY? ASKING FOR SOCIETY

Posted in a lot, generally, women, YAY | No Comments »

LORD HELP ME

June 10th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

IN AN ATTEMPT TO SOOTHE MY BRAINWHIR, I’VE BECOME A PERSON WHO WRITES PRAYERS AND AFFIRMATIONS (WHICH I’M COMING TO REALIZE ARE THE SAME THING) ON NOTECARDS AND PLACES THEM WHERE I CAN MOST FREQUENTLY SEE THEM

IS THIS A SIGN OF THE END (OR PERHAPS THE BEGINNING)

Posted in a lot, i am lucky, i am scared, i have peace, oh nooo, the future, the making of babies, trying too hard, whining, women, worrying, YAY | No Comments »

JE FRENCH NOW

May 22nd, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

I chopped my hair off and now I feel French. What does that even mean? Does it mean just, better than our regular selves? I’ll find out. Every meeting I go to now, I will pitch only French ideas. I will pitch shows about Baguettes and Fleurs and soft cheeses and ResisTANCE. When asked if I’ve been to France, I will say OUI. ONE TIME THIRTEEN YEARS AGO. When asked if I speak French, I will say NON. When asked if I have any non-french related ideas, I will say NON, and then a deep meaningful (French?) pause, and then….Souffle? 

Posted in a lot, awesome, what I'm wearing, women, words | No Comments »

Crying while Talking

May 16th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

I AM FINE, I am moving, as they say, THROUGH the pain, never under or under, but — I’ve been doing a fair amount of Crying lately, a lot of it while Talking, and I HAVE SOME NOTES FOR MYSELF. When I try and talk while crying, my voice gets really high like a cartoon bell, like it’s being sucked back into my throat while I try and push the words out. The sadder the words make me, the higher my voice gets, and the further it disappears up my throat and out my ears, a raspy gummy bear begging not to be eaten. I want to cry while talking like they do on the TV.  Strong, composed, steady, a solid and controlled voice, with tears coming rhythmically one, two, three. I want to speak in full sentences while crying, I want to say profound things while crying, I want to win the SAG award for Crying While Talking, I want to keep talking through all of these tears.

Posted in a lot, the future, the making of babies, the worst, whining, women, words, YAY | No Comments »

Path to Healing

May 9th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

I can’t meditate for more than 3 minutes without getting distracted, and the few times I’ve done acupuncture I’ve just laid there watching the clock and wondering things like ‘Am I healing? Is it happening? What’re we doing right now?’  and last night after my D&C I had an entire bag of Haribo gummies and ice cream for dinner.  I am no Earth Mother or Mother of the Earth, I am not Zen or Chill, but RIGHT NOW I WILL USE THE WORDS ‘PATH TO HEALING,’ and boldly declare that going wide with our fertility struggles has comforted me beyond my greatest expectations. Last night, Haribo gummy cherries hanging out of my mouth, I read hundreds of messages received from friends and strangers, bold and honest messages about fertility struggles and successes. AND IT HAS GIVEN ME LIFE. Thank you to all who share and continue to share. Here was mine:

Last weekend, we had our second miscarriage. I know I’m supposed to tuck this away, share with just close family and friends, compartmentalize and get back to work, which I’ve done before. But this time, I’m sharing here to challenge any and all notions that getting pregnant is CHARMING AND ADORABLE AND JOYFUL AND WHIMSICAL, and only these. For us, and for so many other women and couples, it has been a nightmare. It’s long and stressful and expensive and painful and terrifying. I’ve met parts of myself I never knew, gross bits of rage and frustration and jealousy and sadness. My hope and faith have withered. But I’ve also been so moved by the women who have opened up to me about the absurdity and sometimes hilarity of their own losses and journeys. And I want to do anything I can to help remove any of guilt and shame that comes with this horrible yet INCREDIBLY REGULAR thing / 20 PERCENT OF PREGNANCIES END IN MISCARRIAGE / GRIEVING PEOPLE ARE ALL AROUND YOU / HI, I AM ONE OF THEM. I also share this here because I’m longing for any personal stories, things like I had five miscarriages and now my toddler keeps grabbing my phone out of my hand! And / or my uterus is made of construction paper and now it’s full of twins! Or even, I am going through this fucking bullshit too, would you like to get together and throw bottles of wine against a wall? Feel free to DM me. I’m grateful for anything anyone feels like sharing, but mostly grateful for Morrison, who is the most completely amazing partner that has ever lived.

Posted in a dream is a wish your heart makes, a lot, babies, sucking, the future, the making of babies, the whole world, the worst, wanting, what my friends are doing, women, words, worrying | No Comments »

WOMEN ON WOMEN

May 3rd, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

 

Watched this incredibly inspiring Netflix doc last night, on women across the country running super grassroots campaigns in the 2018 Democratic Primary; was beyond moved by the simultaneous vulnerability and strength of each of the women; THIS BALANCE IS WHAT MAKES WOMEN SO AMAZING, WE NEED MORE WOMEN IN POLITICS BUT OH WAIT IS THAT ALEXANDRIA OCASIO CORTEZ’S BOYFRIEND?! 

OMG WHO IS HER BF HOW DID THEY MEET WHAT IS THAT DRESS WHO IS POLITICS

Posted in a lot, DRESSES!!!!!!!!!!!!, generally, ha, hmmmmm, politics, women, YAY | No Comments »

WOE IS NOT YOU

April 29th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

I tend to have way too much empathy for people who perhaps don’t deserve it. In the secret parts of my head, I oftentimes empathize with bigots and murderers and terrorists and people who pee on toilet seats.  But so help me God, I can find NONE EMPATHY for women who are having a hard time conceiving their EIGHT MILLIONTH CHILD, as I so desperately just want ONE. I want to empathize, so bad, as it’s under the same umbrella of sadness that I’ve felt, but even attempting to do so gets me so angry. And so when reading the abyss that is Pregnancy Internet, and I come across a ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me my other nine children are perfectly healthy and I got pregnant with each of them just by drinking a Beer looking at my husband That Way and NOW I CAN’T SEEM TO HAVE MY NINTH CHILD, WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME’ I feel the opposite of empathy, which is Stab (AND YES, PLEASE NOTE THAT I RESERVE THE RIGHT TO ASK FOR YOUR PITY IF AND WHEN I, AT SOME POINT IN THE FUTURE, HAVE TROUBLE CONCEIVING A CHILD WHEN I ALREADY HAVE ONE, AT WHICH POINT YOU CAN RE-DIRECT ME TO THIS POST.)

Posted in a lot, babies, I am furious, i am scared, i have peace, whining, women | No Comments »

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