✨ July & August✨

🎀 Mollie’s Monthly Memories🎀

Well…it’s been a minute. Two months, actually. I made the choice not to write a separate newsletter for July and August. Truthfully, I tried to start writing in July, but I didn’t really know how to. You see, when I normally would begin writing the newsletter, a lot of stuff started going down.  

🧠 A Hypochondriac’s Worst Nightmare 😷  

As a world-renowned hypochondriac, I have convinced myself I have every illness and disease in the book. From tuberculosis to a parasite, to menopause. So when I noticed a single dark hair on my cheek, I was prepared to call 999. Usually, during these hypochondriacal fits, the answer is usually nothing and/or I’m dehydrated, but fast forward a few days and a blood test later, I was sitting in the doctor’s chair getting checked for all types of lumps and bumps and hearing how my hormones were all over the place, one hormone specifically was elevated. Sometimes, he tells me, that could be caused by a brain tumor, a non-cancerous one (didn’t know they made those), but a brain tumor nonetheless. Huh?????? HUH??????? A brain tumor is the worst combination of words an OCD-riddled, Jewish hypochondriac could hear. So an MRI was booked.  

At this point in the story, I would like to quickly skip to the end for my readers to say that the doctors did not find any brain tumor, so we can just get that out of the way now. Let’s continue.  

I was a mess. In past newsletters, I wrote how I’ve been really trying to do this minor reinvention of myself, but all of that good transformation just seemed to stop. My body was, and still is, revolting; fatigue, hunger, and weirdly dark hair weren’t really making me feel like the new, sexy, glorious edition of myself that I wanted to be. I stopped The Artist’s Way, too anxious and exhausted to get up in the mornings on time. Not only was my body revolting, but my mind was too. Symptomatic mood swings on top of the absolute distress I was enduring after a doctor said the word “tumor” to my freshly shaven face. I was so anxious, which made me not hungry so I didn’t eat, but because I didn’t eat, I got nauseous, because I got nauseous, I didn’t want to eat, which led to more nausea and more anxiety. I was trapped in a cycle. My stress-induced eye twitch was back in full force, and I was ready to pack it up and move back to America. Maura can attest to my spiralling behavior at this time because I called her sobbing, convinced I was on my deathbed, using a night gown as a tissue.  

And the same time as all of this, I was getting ready for the play and looking for a new flat, (which I will be delving more into later), but just want to emphasise how abusrdly hectic this period of time was.  

MRI day came. Now everyone says “Thank you, Rory” for coming with me to the MRI because, truly, I was unravelling. God, that hospital was depressing. I had to get a “contrast” injection, which helps them see my brain better. No one gave me a warning that I was being INJECTED with some type of goo, so I started losing my grip and the tears started flowing. They let Rory come into the room and, bless her, for 35 minutes she just sat there, no phone, no music, no book, just pure vibes. I got strapped into the machine, and they had to tell me to be still because I was crying and ruining the pictures. 🙂 

I was going back and forth a lot, though. I obviously did not want a brain tumor, but at least that would’ve been an answer with an obvious treatment plan. If it’s not a tumor, then what? More doctors and more unknowns. I was in a lose-lose situation.

The results came in a week or two later: No Tumor!!! Huzzah!  

Being far away from my family, a foreign continent with a different healthcare system, was one of the hardest parts of this whole thing. In the past, I had only given soft thought to what happens when my visa expires in 16 months, but all of this made me think that maybe I’m not cut out for life abroad.  

I want to deeply thank the friends abroad and nearby who have been incredibly supportive during all of this.  

So this summer has been a more difficult one than I would have wanted. I don’t know what to expect in the future. All I have right now are scheduled doctor appointments, and no answers, just a very uncooperative body. 

🚗 I Got Hit By a Car 🚘️ 

The things men will do to talk to me these days!!!  Just ask me out!!! 

As if my internal world was not in enough turmoil, the external world decided to, literally, hit me while I was down.  

The day after my MRI, I had my first dress rehearsal for the play. As I was crossing the street, I was almost to the curb and a car that was making a U-turn swung through and …. hit me. I am not even 100% sure what happened. There was a loud noise, and I felt like I had been pushed, and all of a sudden, my shoe was 10ft ahead of me, and somehow I was still standing. People started swarming me, obviously, to see if I was okay. I was speechless. In complete shock. The 2007-hipster-looking man who hit me pulled over. I was lifting my legs up and down to make sure that, yes, I can in fact feel my legs. Hipster came up to me to say, “Are you okay love? (We are in England) “I think so…” I respond “, I am literally shaking… this has never happened before”, he says. HE’S SHAKING???? He HIT ME! I say again that “I  am okay”, and he says, “Can I have a cuddle?” ….. I am still so out of it that I just….. give him a hug. No biggie, just hugging the guy who hit me with his car.

He left, and some nice British people brought me to a table where I started SOBBING. Big, big tears. A few more inches and it would have been bye-bye Mollie’s perfectly arched foot. They gave me a cup of tea and some cake because, of course, they did. They also gave me ice for my leg because somehow, even though a full ass car collided with me, I only got a bit bruised on my calf. Thank god the theatre was right around the corner, so I called Eugenie, who came and got me, and I got myself together, and we went to rehearsal. 

🎤 Life of a Showgirl🤩 

This summer had big, big downs but also some ups! 
Of course, I know I’m hilarious and you all know I’m hilarious, but I want strangers in pub basements to know too. So I am back, making a fool of myself for the sake of art, attention and praise. At the beginning of July, for the first time in over 2 years, I did stand-up comedy. Eeeeep!!!!!! And then just a week ago, I did it again! Oh my gosh, was I scared! It was very stressful getting back into it after being on hiatus for so long. I was very clearly nervous so I think feeling comfortable again may take a second.  

Thank you Katie, Susana, Cate, Eugenie, Yaz, Betty and Rory for coming to watch me make a foold of myself

My show!! The short play series premiered at the beginning of August, and boy, what a fun time it was! I was doing 15-hour days for a minute there. Going right from work to the show, I was eating dinner at 11:30 pm every night. It was fun to be back in the theatre and doing vocal warm-ups and stage makeup. And I think I did a pretty good job! My play was quirky and nonsensical, but I made people laugh, which is a win in my book. Speaking of books, I spent about 80% of the show itself just sitting in the back reading my book club book, which I didn’t even finish by

book club. Plus, I met some new characters, and by characters I mean the people I did the play with, not fictional ones. And I met Eugenie, so it was worth it, no matter what 😙 

💝 Dad is Back⭐️ 

Drew Kerr, father of yours truly, returned to London. Unfortunately, I was in the midst of my 15-hour show days when he arrived, so we didn’t do as many fun activities as we normally do. However, he did buy me a harmonica (win) and came see my show twice 🙂 🙂. The price of being father to a star. ❤️ ❤️ 

 He is also now LinkedIn connected with my boss.

🧳 New Girl Moves (back) to K-Town 👨‍👩‍👦 

Who’s that girl? It’s Mollie!!  

Yup, the rumors are true. I moved back to Kentish Town and signed a lease to live with two straight men. You read that right. I don’t know who you guys should be more worried for, me or them? Them.  

We have Darwie from Australia and Lucas from England. They work in jobs I don't understand (finance or tech or something?). They gave me free rein to decorate the flat however I see fit, which they may regret, but I am having an absolute blast of a time making the flat as non-masculine as possible. So far, the boys have asked me stimulating questions, including “What are Spanx?” and “Want to watch me skateboard?” and I have asked questions including “Can you stop walking so fast?” and “What is a blockchain?” 

🇺🇸 Celebrating Independence From the Country in Which I Currently Live 🇬🇧  

Happy 4th of July!!! Rory and Mike hosted a get-together and made a BBQ (Were you invited to my BBQ? Then why you all up in my grill? ). As the father figure that I am, I took over the grilling for a chunk of time. Yay hot dogs! Yay friends! Yay democracy!   Oh and Nik came. Hey Nik!

✏️ Big Girl Job Stuff💻️ 

Lots of fun things happened in the world of Body & Soul this summer. Do any of my American friends remember Marianne Williamson? She ran for president under the platform of like… love? Well, Ms. Marianne Spirtial Leader Williamson, gave a talk at Body & Soul. Kind of wild right? Fully just giving a speech on our top floor about trauma and love, things of that nature. Truthfully, I don’t remember to real point she was making, but I was listening to her talk and I thought to myself, “yeah, I could see myself joining a cult”. She was a good speaker!! Sorry! Don’t worry, I am not becoming an anti-vaxxer anytime soon.

I had a very important meeting with one of our trustees. He is a hotshot CEO, economist, dude who has a lot of money, and it was just him and me. The meeting was at his office. They put me in a conference room to wait for him. He was 20 minutes late. At one point, the lights in the room shut off, but I was too scared to get up or touch anything, so I sat in the darkness waiting for him. The meeting went... fine? He wanted to do a bit of trauma dump sesh so I learned a lot about his personal trials and tribulations. He said he wants to make sure I can talk to the “Mayfair Crowd” and I said Sweetie, I’ve dated the 1% so I sure as hell can talk to them. I didn’t really say that, but he caught my drift. 😉 

Development Week! Each August Body & Soul shuts down, and staff spend a week... developing. It was a lot of group therapy, creative exercises and discussions on policy, practice and how we need money and how it’s my job to get it!! :o  

💫 Honorable Mentions 💫 

🎀 Mollie’s Mind 🎀

If A Secret Is Told In A Forest And No One is Around To Hear It, Is It Even A Secret?  

Growing up, if my brother or I had a secret to reveal, we would ask to go on a walk. Sometimes, if it was a big secret, we’d even suggest getting ice cream. When Devon came out to our father, they went to the ice cream shop Big Gay Ice Cream in NYC. You have to give it to him, he stayed on theme.  

Secrets are a curious thing. It’s like what can be big or small, something you can keep or something you can give away, something that could be good or bad. It’s a fucking riddle. I have been thinking about this a lot lately, and by thinking about this, I mean discussing this with my therapist.  More importantly, we discuss the difference between something private and something secret.

But what’s the difference? They overlap, sure, but are they the same? A secret is something you would possibly lie about to not reveal because you are trying to make an inherent effort to avoid people knowing. I think secrecy is deliberate concealment, and privacy is more about personal boundaries. I floss my teeth in private but not in secret. I don’t mind you knowing I take care of my teeth, I just don’t want you to watch me do it.  

I think I often have a very skewed image of secrets. They’re almost currency-esc. Sometimes secrets are a way to get closer to someone, like if I show them I am vulnerable and reveal this intimate thing about myself, then maybe we’ll bond more. Why do you think sorority trauma bonding, hazing rituals work so well?

Or sometimes I hold onto “secrets” so I can be some mysterious bitch. If any man dares to risk romanticizing me, I can think to myself, “if only you knew.” 

Or secrets are a form of power, like, I know this thing that others don’t, therefore I have an advantage.  

Or it could be for someone else’s benefit, like a surprise party, or to spare someone’s feelings, like a white lie.  

I was thinking about this before everything happened with my health, but when all of it did happen, these thoughts became even more relevant. I told a very small few about my stressful summer and dysfunctioning body, not because I was trying to keep some big secret, or to get closer to certain people or be mysterious or do some weird power play but because (1) I didn’t know how, or (2) I was worried it would be some type of pity party (3) it’s embarrassing, (4) I myself didn’t have any real answers, so how was I supposed to explain it to other people. But it was never a, capital S, Secret to me. I would put it more in the “privacy” camp, not the “secrecy” one.

I think that’s why the idea of trauma bonding is really interesting in this context. When you reveal something vulnerable about yourself, it sometimes represents this genuine connection you have with someone, like wow, you feel close enough with this person that you’re comfortable uncovering this about yourself. Yet, I always find it difficult striking that balance between “private” and “secret” or trauma bond and regular bond or when to say what and what to say when. Meaning, am I sharing something private to be more authentic, or am I sharing a secret to create some manufactured intimacy? Like the Trustee I spoke about earlier. He wanted us to start a secret spilling sesh, not because he genuinely cares about my personal life, but because he wanted to simulate some type of bond between us, even though it was our first time meeting. But I’m a victim of it too. I don’t always know if I share because I want to be closer to someone, or I am close to someone already. I then walk the line of feeling like I am either oversharing or withholding. Does this person need to know everything about me to know me?

There are a lot of unanswered questions here, like what even makes a secret worth ice cream? What flavor do you get? Writing about secrets now, at my big age, feels almost childish. Like, what are we going to do next? Pinky promises? 

So I’ll let you all in on a little secret. 

I’m not a private person, but I have plenty of secrets. I share many private thoughts, feelings and experiences here, with you all, but not all my secrets. That’ll cost you a vanilla cone with sprinkles.  

🎀 Mollie’s Music 🎀

I love these little Scottish lads

Thanks for reading.

I miss you all so much,

XXXX

-M