Jessica Mesman Griffith

Allow me to explain my selfies

Look, I just need you to know I was here in Indianapolis with my kids and my cats, and that it snowed in April and I didn’t lie down and die. I was also in Orlando with my friend and her brother, where we privately grieved our dead relationships and ate shrimp. I was at a writer’s conference, and my captions let you know that I’ve done alright for myself, in some ways. Sure, I need these reminders. I am this mother whose children bring her dandelions in a milk bottle. I am this living woman, right here, who writes and travels and looks pretty with the right angles and filters. But we both know this whole account is a lighthouse, a candle in the window, every picture a beacon on a hill, letting you know where to find me.