P.S. Jill ...

In 2011, I wrote a blog post called "I Feel Like an Apathetic Piece of Poo" in which I complained that I didn't feel like I was doing enough with myself. At that point, I was primarily a stay-at-home mom, banging out a few freelance articles here and there when I could find work — and I felt so ... useless. So behind. (In hindsight, I can no longer even fathom managing all the things I was managing at the time, but try telling that to 2011 me). 

And then, a couple years later, Jill Smokler came a-knockin' at my virtual door, and changed the trajectory of my entire life. 

I was fully aware of Jill prior to that, of course; when I first encountered her in the blogosphere, her site — Scary Mommy — was still just a blog, like mine. (I say "like mine," but hers was far bigger and more popular, obviously.) She was one of the bloggers I aspired to be like. She was honest and funny, and made moms feel not so alone in the chaos of everyday life. 

In June of 2014, she reached out to ask if she could run this post — 10 Boy-Mom Musts — on Scary Mommy, which by then had become a whole entity. It had gone viral from my own blog, and a friend from the blogosphere, Charisse, had brought it to Jill's attention. When she emailed me, I could hardly believe it. Of course I let her run it; it was THE Scary Mommy asking! The post subsequently went viral from her site too, reaching over 1.5 million shares in the span of one week, drawing so much traffic that it actually brought down the site at one point. It was total madness. Jill and I emailed back and forth throughout that week, sharing our excitement about the sheer number of people seeing and sharing the post, and it was the start of a relationship that would bring so many fantastic things and amazing people my way. 

Later that year, she asked me to be one of the first official staff writers at Scary Mommy.  

To say she gave me a job would be an understatement; Jill Smokler gave me a career. But more than that, she gave me the sense of self-worth I so desperately needed at the time. The feeling that I was valued and that I could actually do things beyond wiping butts and squeegeeing crumbs off counters. PROFESSIONAL things. For the first time in my life, I felt like an adult, someone to be taken seriously. 

I finally met her in person at a blogging conference in 2015, and it was like we'd known each other all our lives. I knew how warm and wonderful she was just over email, so to experience that warmth in person was just the icing on the cake. The photo of the two of us above was taken at her house, where she'd so kindly invited a group of us over to have lunch and chill.

Photo courtesy of the dazzling Christine Burke, aka Keeper of the Fruit Loops. 

Because of Jill, and her belief in my potential, and her patience with my endless newbie questions, and her guidance and mentorship, I worked my way up from staff writer to Associate Editor to Deputy Editor of Scary Mommy. My years there taught me so much, and brought me close to so many talented and inspirational women. When I left, it was because the site had been acquired by a big media corporation, and had become something that had sort of departed from Jill's original vision. It was still Scary Mommy, but not the O.G. Scary Mommy that we all so deeply loved, and it just didn't feel the same.

Still, my years there opened doors I never in my wildest dreams thought would open. I moved on to other editorial roles (and would still be in one, if it weren't for a return-to-office mandate that cost me my job ... womp womp). I have developed and honed so many editorial skills, and learned so much from so many pros. 

All this is to say that Jill Smokler changed my life, and that is not an over-exaggeration. And yesterday, when I found out that she had died after a two-year battle with glioblastoma — a brain tumor — it hit me just how much. I wish I had told her, but of course those are things we always wish when someone dies. I knew she was sick. I should have reached out. But now it's too late. I hope she knows how many lives she touched, how many people she made feel a little less lonely and a little more understood.

I was going through her Instagram, and found this post, which made me smile despite everything, because Jill always found humor— even in the dark stuff.   

She was a true badass with a sharp wit and a heart the size of Texas. She made "professional" personal. It's heartbreaking that she only had 48 years, but the profound impact she made in those years is truly something special. 

Jill has three kids — Lily, Ben, and Evan — who are about my kids' ages. I can only imagine the grief they're feeling, how hard it would be to lose your mother on the precipice of adulthood when you could use her guidance the most. 

For anyone wanting to pay tribute, Jill's family has asked for donation in her memory to The Brain Tumor Network — but she also has a GoFundMe that's still active, and I'm sure donations there would go a long way.     
 

Jill, you were one of a kind. Thanks for helping a baby blogger to become a real live professional. I will never forget how much you did ... for me personally, and for every mom who needed to hear the words we weren't always allowed to say out loud.