Today’s writing was all painful truths. One essay is something that, if shared, might cause upset in a very close-knit artistic community. It’s certainly not in a state ready to be shared, and I certainly would never share it just to make waves. But it’s painful in the base case, and wondering how it would be received makes it more so. Of course, that’s never a consideration when I write. I’ve learned to let those thoughts run loose only once I hit “save” for the day and sit quietly.

I wrote of my experience with sexism and anti-Semitism during my limited time in improv. The memories, some comfortably in storage for the last six years or so, crawled out of their cozy compartments and poked at me to get my attention. Perhaps they were emboldened by recent political events. Or perhaps they came forth because I’m feeling open to writing…