Monday Notes: The Greatest Gift of Publishing In Search of a Salve

An unexpected consequence of publishing In Search of a Salve is that I’ve reconnected with friends from my past. These connections have manifested in different ways and for varied reasons. For example, months after publication, my friend, Mika texted me letters, postcards, and photos I’d sent to her from the time I’d moved from Chicago to Covert.

In bubbled cursive I wrote:

So, like I told you to do, I’ll just say fuck them … Joëlle, Daddy (at times), Tom, Najja, Shani …

Y’all. The list of who was getting the proverbial middle finger was long. In this letter, I also had a contingency plan for what I would do, should I begin to be “depressed again.” Today, it is common practice for one to announce their depression, whether self-diagnosed or clinical. But in the early 90s? Depressed was not a household term. Using this word affirmed that my body and mind knew something was wrong. I just had no clear way to communicate it to the adults around me.

In my handwriting, I also illustrated the dawn of my descent into addiction. I stopped saying “eff everyone,” and began talking about “all of the boys.” Then undergrad began, and letter writing ended.

I’m grateful Mika showed me these artifacts. Each word validated the core content of my memoir.

In undergrad, I used to hang out with a guy we’ll call Dan. As I reminisce, I’m sure we were quite the pair walking around campus: Me, a five-foot-tall girl and Dan, a four-hundred-pound boy. We were close for a few semesters and held sporadic convos post-graduation. Ordering the book brought him back into my sphere. He texted this:

You have always been self-aware and unequivocally you! Look at what you’ve achieved. Look at what you’re going to achieve. You get your flowers now!!!

Then he added:

I beat up 2 people that spoke badly about you…everyone knew that if they had a problem with you, they had a problem with my big ass…

There was a time during college, where my reputation preceded me. But by the time Dan and I became friends, I’d slowly abandoned social scenes and secured a relationship with my now husband. However, people were still gossiping, and I was oblivious that I needed defense. Years later, I am grateful that he shared this with me. It felt good to know someone had my back at a time when I felt no one did.

A person I met in seventh grade read Salve, and we reconnected over themes of the memoir. The book touched her life in numerous ways. One day, we had a conversation about how much we related to watching Amanda Seales discuss autism and giftedness in an interview with Shannon Sharpe. Seales also disclosed how reading and using The 48 Laws of Power had helped her interact with people.

“I think I need to read that book,” I said. “Sometimes, I don’t think people get what I’m saying.”

“B*tch,” middle-school friend started. “You just wrote a book called, In Search of a Salve: Memoir of a Sex Addict, where you virtually said, ‘this is my experience, and f*ck you if you don’t understand it!’ You shouldn’t be walking into rooms trying to manipulate people or meet them where they are. You should be raising the vibration of every room you walk into!”

Her lecture continued, and I quieted myself. By the end of it, I agreed. In the past, I’d tried to fit in, so I could belong. Whether it was with family, in-laws, or friends, I didn’t want to be different. Today? Not at all. Talking to this woman has helped me to consciously change how I move in the world. I stopped mumbling the subtitle of the book, and instead, began saying it “with my chest” as a few new friends have encouraged me to do.

At the end of our convo, seventh-grade friend added, “Every time I talk to you, I’m going to pour into you.” So far, she’s kept her word, and I’m grateful.

There have been more reconnections, each with their own benefits. Many surface-level conversations have shifted to the soul-level. People are returning to therapy or finding independent ways to release the traumatic experiences they’ve buried. Due to Salve, people are seeking ways to live healthier lives.

Furthermore, I’m thankful for these conversations because friends have reminded me that they’ve always known who I was, even when I was trying to hide from it or figure it out. Thus far, reconnecting with friends has been one of the greatest gifts of releasing In Search of a Salve.

It’s Salve’s one-year anniversary. I’ll be sharing thoughts, impact, and commentary all month!

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